Lucien: Dragofin Mated: Book 2 (Dragonfin Clan Mated)
Page 10
Quinn blamed Matt. She added him to her quickly growing list of ass-out folks. He and Hildy were going to pay for making her day so miserable. She didn’t have direct evidence, but knew it was those two who had conspired to produce her current predicament. Somehow those schemers had managed to seat her next to Lucien at the same end of the table. It was mysterious how all the seats were taken but the one next to him when she’d come to sit down.
One thing was on point though—the food. The Chinese takeout was plentiful and good. Instead of worrying about how she might look eating in front of Craig or any other guy, Quinn had pigged out on Szechwan Chicken and spring rolls. If she could have, Quinn would have slurped soup and crunched loudly on crispy fried wontons. It seemed Matt and one of Lucien’s other brothers named Nolan had already attacked the soup and crispy wontons before she’d made it to the table. It was all good though. With a mouth full of food, she hadn’t needed to make small talk. It appeared not too much conversation went on when these folks ate anyway.
Done and waiting for others to finish, Quinn played with the left over Chinese Hot Mustard packets. She daydreamed of loading Lucien’s Chow Mein noodles with it when he wasn’t looking. That was evil. She knew it, but he rubbed her the wrong way. It was his superior air. Here he sat, away from everyone, quiet and boring as tapioca pudding. Quinn looked down the table to where Hildy and Jax entertained everyone with a story about their recent trip to a new supercenter. She didn’t quite know why it was so funny, but they were proud about buying up some pies and then having a pie fight when they got back. Yeah, she wanted to be down there where the cool kids sat. Maybe there was a way to ditch Lucien so she could join them in whatever they did after dinner? Anything that was away from Lucien sounded great.
Quinn’s business might be in the toilet, but she was no one’s fool. She learned fast and these folks were out to get her or make her crazy. They had to know that this Lucien guy was the oil to her water. Why they’d made them sit together in this time out section of the table was wrong. No, it was downright rude.
Lucien had been quiet, eating, while the rest of the crew sat farther down, having a blast. Quinn might as well have been sent to eat dinner with the principal of a detention center for delinquents. The group was rowdy and, if she had to be honest, funny. They cracked jokes on each other and managed to get Wren in on the fun. She, on the other hand, sat here with Lucien, The Grumpy or better yet, Mr. Grumble Butt.
All desire to pitch him had gone out the window when she’d met him. There was no way she’d willingly try to work with him. The man was broody and too reserved for her tastes. She liked fun and needed a challenge. Lucien stood with his empty plate in hand.
“If you’re finished, I can take your trash to the garbage too,” he offered.
Nope, Quinn wasn’t changing her mind about him. He was on good behavior for tonight. This guy wasn’t normally this nice—couldn’t be.
Deciding to allow him to serve her for once, she said, “Yeah, I’m done.” She pushed back from the table to allow him space to gather her plate and trash.
Quinn couldn’t help noticing how the muscles in his arms flexed and moved under his dark tan skin with the slightest movement. Lucien gathered up everything into a neat pile. When he took it to the trash, Quinn looked back down the table to where the others were finishing up too. She strained to see what the plans were now.
Lucien came back and stood where he’d been sitting. Looking down at her and then over to Wren, he said, “I know I promised to show you two around. If you’d like, we can do that now.”
Fast-assed Matt spoke up. “Luc, how about you show Quinn around? Jax, Hildy, Wren and I are going to play a card game. It seems Hildy believes she can win with Wren here. It’s going to be war of the sexes.”
That. Was. It.
Quinn wanted to spit and string Matt up by his balls. The nerve! Wren caught her attention again and gave her that “play nice” smile. Quinn tried to plaster on what she hoped was her best impression of having fun smile. Inside, it felt like she was in a looping nightmare of being punked.
Hoping to find the silver lining, Quinn asked, “What is everyone else doing now?”
One of the other men said, “Most of us are going to turn in early. Our… trip took a toll and all we want to do is get some sleep.” The other agreed with him.
Great, now she was the one who was ass-out. Quinn watched in horror as Matt led Wren over to a stairwell, she’d only now noticed. She called after her friend, “Hey Wren, where are you going?”
As free as a freaking bird, Wren said, “Oh, I’m going up to Jax and Hildy’s to play that card game. Once Lucien and you are finished with your tour, maybe you’d like to join us?”
Quinn wanted to kill Wren. How could she? This was so beyond fucked up. Maybe Wren had suffered a head injury while on the mat with Hildy earlier? This was so out of character for her that Quinn wanted to forcibly make her go home.
A large hand hot as fire touched her elbow, bringing her attention back to him. He looked at the spot where his hand touched her elbow, something akin to marvel danced through his eyes. Did she have a huge spider there?
“What’s wrong?” she asked snatching her elbow out of his hand to inspect it.
“Oh nothing, pardon me.” He looked over at Wren and the others as they retreated and then back to her. “Looks like we’ve been left out in the cold, so to speak. I’d still like to finish up the tour if you’re game. This building has a lot of history you’d enjoy.” He paused, turned over her palm with extreme care and asked, “Are your injuries well enough to do some stair climbing?”
She didn’t want to come off as weak in any way. On a normal day, Quinn would take the elevator if it was there. But today, she couldn’t help herself. She’d show Lucien Drake that she could hang with him.
“Yeah, I’m much better. Have to take my time, but I’m good.”
“Good. How about we start at the top and work our way down then?”
“That sounds like a plan. Lead the way,” Quinn said, standing to follow the last man she wanted to be alone with.
12
Quinn…
Five freaking stories!
Was Lucien out of his mind? This building was five stories high. She’d been the cuckoo who’d agreed to climb stairs with a sore knee on top of her already out-of-shape status. The most Quinn did on a daily basis was walk to and from easy stuff. Stuff that was in short distances. Her car to her apartment, the front door of her office to her parking space, and her exclusive use of Valet parking whenever available all qualified. She was a proud member of the people who used the valet option at the Mall without shame or remorse. The scoffers had to deal with it whenever she emerged from the stores to walk directly to her waiting car that had been brought to her at the main entrance.
With each stair she’d taken tonight, her body screamed at her to stop. This day kept getting worse. Maybe she’d fallen into Dante’s Inferno and hadn’t realized it until now? Finally, she made it to the top, only to be escorted out to the roof. She hadn’t thought to bring her jacket. Glistening with a fine sheen of sweat from her stair climbing the January night air was brutal. It whipped around them with biting nips, as Lucien showed her the city skyline in the near distance.
Quinn was out of her element. She didn’t like heights—at all. Before she realized what she’d done, Quinn had inched close to Lucien. Even in the cold of the roof, he threw off heat like a furnace. A stray desire to snuggle up to him to stay warm floated to the front of her thoughts where she promptly evicted it with a shake of her head.
“I get the feeling you don’t particularly care for heights,” he said, walking a little too close to the edge for her taste.
“No, not at all. You can add cold to that as well,” she added, noticing her teeth were starting to chatter.
Quinn could have sworn he looked a bit crestfallen at her admissions. But, who could tell in the dark of the night and his perpetual brooding?
“Oh… that’s impressive,” she said, not knowing how to fake interest in a non-functioning old chimney, on a roof, in the cold of winter.
“Over here,” he said, pointing to another spot on the other side of the roof, “is where the city installed one of the first poles to receive electricity. I only recently took it down due to dry rot.”
“Cool.”
He turned toward her. “I guess this isn’t the highlight of your evening. We could go to Jax’s suite of rooms and see what they’re up to if you like. Hildy led me to believe you were interested in learning more about the architecture of the building.”
The shower of guilt for being a jerk crashed down on her head. Here this man was attempting to be hospitable to show her the building, and she was pouting at being left out of the “fun” with the others. Maybe it was the night air or an overload of her actions from the day, but Quinn didn’t like how she felt or acted.
The entire day had been a soul-crushing event. First, she’d come here to visit Wren under sketchy false pretenses of taking a vacation. Then that failed run-in with Craig still had her smarting. And, to cap it off, her bratty attitude with this man, his family and friends was too over the top, even for her.
Quinn needed to at least make this right by him.
Walking up to Lucien, as he looked out into the night sky, Quinn spoke up. “Lucien, I need to say something.” He turned to look down at her. She tried to control the increased chattering of her teeth. A cold burst of air currently blew across her back, sending chills through her body. Still, she pressed on. “I apologize for my behavior today and tonight. I haven’t been the best guest, and for that I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but cordial to Wren and me. Thank you for showing me this roof and it’s specialness. I appreciate it.” That last part made little sense as it came out in bursts through the increased Clanging of her teeth.
“No apology needed. Come, let me get you back inside to warm up.” He held out a hand. Quinn accepted it, enjoying the heat that permeated her skin through it. She grasped his hand with both of hers, hoping to find enough warmth to stop her teeth. “It appears I’m the one who should be apologizing for having you out here with no coat.”
Lucien gave her a look as if he examined her. Then without warning, he gathered her into his arms, pressing her against his rock hard torso. “Walk with me back to the door, and I’ll get you back downstairs where there’s heat.”
Quinn did as he directed. She walked with him, as he kept her tightly pressed into his massive body. His body enveloped her like a heated blanket. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat and radiated around her. When they made it back into the stairwell of the building, Quinn wanted to dance a jig. That would mean breaking out of his arms and her source of heat—no thank you. Instead, she waited to see where he wanted to take her next. Lucien continued to hold her, allowing his radiant heat to warm her. Thank God. Her body continued to shudder from the cold that seemed to have gone down into her bones. Receiving body heat from him wasn’t as unpleasant as she would have expected it to be. When the involuntary tremors of her body subsided, Lucien gave her a little nudge to proceed back down the stairs.
“Back down we go. After you, Quinn,” he said pointing at the stairwell.
“Wait, I thought we were going to finish the tour? Why are you taking me back downstairs?” She didn’t know why she asked this. It was weird wanting to continue the most awkward tour known to humankind. Lucien placed his hands on his hips and looked down at her. She waited, he looked. “What’s the matter? Why are you only looking at me? You promised me a tour of the entire building. Or, was that rooftop experience meant to make me give up the notion?”
Enough fire for her to see in the dimly lit space ignited in his eyes. “Quinn, I am doing my best to be that gracious host you accused me of being. I thought you wanted to get back downstairs and heat up.”
“I can’t do that on any of these floors? You only have heat on the first floor? What kind of place is this?”
Yeah, that was clear emotion raging in his eyes now. A secret thrill zoomed through her at seeing how fast she could get him riled up. It was a sick, sadistic pleasure, but she liked it. Nothing made her happier than putting an overly confident man in his place with a few words. Ooh, his eyes had narrowed. She made a pitiful attempt not to grin.
Lucien eyed her intently. When he was ready and looked like he’d made up his mind about it, Lucien answered her. “As you wish. We’ll continue the tour. Over there is the door to the fifth floor. Follow me, and I’ll show you around.”
The door leading into a hallway, opened after Lucien did something to it. He hid whatever it was with his body. Quinn didn’t detect a key or security system, so she chalked it up to him being weird and mysterious.
“Come, I’ll show you this floor first.” He extended his hand to take hers again.
Wanting the heat it offered, Quinn took it and allowed him to usher her into the hall. Nothing stood out as they walked down the short hallway, except for the temperature. It was cold in here too. Was the heat broken up here? Not wanting to backtrack on her insistence on having the grand tour, Quinn kept her mouth shut about the heat or lack thereof.
Lucien stood in front of a singular boring door at the end of the shallow hallway. It was one of only three she spotted. He did that same weird thing to it as before. Quinn didn’t care to try to find out what it was. As long as he showed her around to pass the time away and was cordial like now, she’d be good. She wanted to let enough time pass to justify getting Wren to go home with her.
Not saying a word, he opened the door and stepped aside to allow her entrance into the dark room.
“Nope, not going to happen,” she said, eyeing him with disbelief. “There’s no way I’m going first into a cold, dark room in an unfamiliar place like this. I know, how about you turn on the lights and go first. That way, if something is in there, it can greet you first.”
Yep, she was getting to him. His eyes twinkled with a hint of frustration. This was too easy. Mr. Grumble Butt needed to lighten up a little. That was a good name for him. She smiled, enjoying the internal fun she had at his expense.
“Very well then. Step aside.”
Quinn dipped in a faint curtsey, determined to make a show of stepping aside. This would be fun after all. Yep, he was way too easy. When she stepped back, he stomped into the room—nice.
Subdued light flooded the interior as he went about turning on a few table lamps here and there. Quinn said nothing. Instead, she took in the room and him. He continued crossing the large space to illuminate it. When he reached a wall and turned on recessed lighting that gave the room a soft glow, Quinn wanted to gasp. Beautiful and welcoming, the furnishings and atmosphere conveyed power. She had no clue such comfort was on the other side of the threshold. Still standing in the entrance and peeking in, Quinn took in the spectacle. The furniture looked oversized and crafted with a quality that had to be custom work.
“Come in,” he said, turning the palm of his left hand upward and curling the fingers in a few successions to beckon her. Was he trying to be cool and impress her with that gesture? Hah, not likely. So far, his suave, cool points were in the negative range.
No, Mr. Grumble Butt, you do NOT have game.
She suppressed the laughter that itched to answer his failure at cool points. No matter. She’d learned something more telling about him. Looked liked she was dealing with a southpaw. Shallow memories of how to do business negotiations with left-handers niggled at her. They could be—interesting. Quinn couldn’t remember all the information about the supposed magical mental machinations of left-handers. Based on her time with him so far, what she remembered was fitting. Lucien was different. The jury was still out on whether she liked his differences or not.
Her
gut pounded louder than normal, and thoughts rang out—be on alert. Lucien Drake might have another side to him. Who was the cuckoo now? She’d taunted him into bringing her up here.
Left-handed, strong, and mysterious, that was Lucien. Quinn did a check in to see how she felt in the room alone with him. There was no anxious gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Her breathing was normal and… comfortable. The truth—it was her attraction to him that made her uneasy. Watching Lucien move in a place he was comfortable in, had her on high alert about her own reactions. Yes, she was alone with the possibility of two-stories separating them from anyone else in the building, but Quinn didn’t question her wisdom. He was safe.
His safety with her might be a different story. Her need to antagonize him should have been her tip off early on. If Quinn bothered to care about mixing it up with a guy, there was some attraction on her part. No use denying it, she was into Lucien Drake. Even though he’d been the epitome of grace and gentlemanliness, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a jerk. Falling for jerks had always been her downfall. Quinn sighed and walked into an area that looked to be a comfortable sitting area off to her right.
The room took up most of the floor space. She’d been in enough opulent homes to know expensive when she saw it. Large wasn’t the best way to describe the space. It was longer lengthwise than in width and divided into sections through the furnishings. The one she stood in now had chairs that looked like a mix of home-theater and recliners. By her count, there were twelve of them. Each arranged in a large semi-circle with a beautiful tapestry rug showcased in the center. Twelve chairs must mean there were more of these large men who lived here. She’d only counted eight, including Lucien, earlier. A chair on the opposite side of where she stood pulled at her like a magnet. When she landed to stand before it, an unfathomable cocktail of emotions washed over her.
As if she’d found something close to home, Quinn didn’t fight the urge to run her hand along the headrest part of the chair. The leather was soft as butter and might have been Corinthian by the looks of it. One thing was for certain. These men loved their leather. It showed everywhere. And, it fit. They were rugged and needed a material that would be able to accommodate their lifestyle—whatever that might be. Note to self—get him to tell her what he did for a living.