“You didn’t?” Up her spirits came. “Did you have anything to do with the recruiter from NYU calling me about the job?”
He scrutinized her for an extended moment. “Are you capable of being reasonable if I answer that honestly?”
Down her spirits went. Knee him in the junk or nod? It took her a second to decide what to do. She nodded because she wasn’t done with his junk just yet and she didn’t want bruising to get in the way of his performance. “I’ll try to control myself,” she drawled.
“The recruiter was contacted by my people. She was instructed to get in touch with you and strongly recommend you apply for the position.” He lifted her head back up with a finger under her chin. “You are not the first person I have helped in such a small way. And if it makes a difference, which it should, all I did was put you in the right place at the right time.”
“And let me believe I’d gotten there on my own.”
“Sheldon’s final decision on who he hired was his,” he finished as if she hadn’t spoken. He stroked her jawline with his thumb before turning to pick the hoodie up from where he’d tossed it on the bed. “Of course, he would choose you. Anyone would have.”
She ignored that. “But he knew you had a personal interest in me as a candidate for the position.”
“Yes.”
“So you got me my first job in the art world.” Shit. She wanted to find a dark corner and rock back and forth for a while. It was awful being studied while humiliation and disappointment ravaged her. Didn’t help that she was standing there in a bra and leggings.
Lucian’s sigh drifted across her cheek. “No, Yasmeen. You did that. After weeding out those who were not what the gallery needed, your boss was left with three applicants. When I asked him what the deciding factor was after he chose you, he told me your genuine passion was apparent the moment you entered his showroom and expressed your appreciation with silence.” He shook his head as one side of his mouth came up. “I am beginning to think he must have been talking about a different person because quiet you are not.”
Just like an old wooden yo-yo, she hit the end of the string and went spinning back up. She returned his half-smile, thrilled she was seeing it. “I’m silent as a mouse at work. I’m only chatty with you because I like you, and I’m curious about you and the crazy things you do, and why you do them.” She took his head between her palms and made him look at her. “You really didn’t stand over him with that intimidating look on your face and order him to hire me? Be honest.”
“I did not order him to hire you. Arms up.”
But Sheldon had most likely picked her out of the three applicants because he’d been afraid not to. “Would you consider giving me my phone back now?” She could call and know for sure instead of wondering.
“Up, Yasmeen.”
That’s what she thought. She shoved her arms in the air, and he pulled the soft cotton over her head. She looked down at the logo across her chest. “You went to Princeton?”
“I went to Princeton. I also spent some time at Oxford.”
“In England?”
“Is there another?”
“Not that could handle that attitude, no.” He gave her a warning look that she took head on. “Don’t look at me like that. Your arrogance is astounding. The girls must have followed you around with their panties in the air.”
“As I am sure the boys at NYU followed behind you holding their dicks in their hands.”
She grimaced. “No, they didn’t.”
“Yes, my pet. They did. Believe me. If you did not witness it, they were being discreet. I would guarantee hundreds of men have come on their shower walls to thoughts of you on your knees before them.”
“Lucian. Don’t be disgusting.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “That is not disgusting. If I were to see you masturbate, I would be enthralled.”
“Yes, but that’s someone you’re attracted to. I’d be all eyes if I watched you, too. But to think of other men doing it makes me a little vomity.”
“For masturbating to a mental image of you.”
She tipped her head and nodded as if it was dense of him to confirm.
“You are a strikingly beautiful woman. You must know men wonder what it must be like to fuck you the minute they see you. When I saw you for the first time, I was staggered by your beauty. I have never experienced the sensation of having my breath taken. You accomplished that without batting an eye.”
She couldn’t deny hearing she hadn’t been the only one affected like that made her feel great. But looks were looks, and they’d eventually go. “So your first thought was to have sex with me?”
A shadow passed over his features. “No. My first thought was to do what I have now done.”
“Have sex with me.”
“Steal you.”
Her eyes flared. “You thought to steal me? That night?”
“I fought myself throughout our meal. By the time you got up to use the restroom, I’d considered a variety of ways I could imprison you, right down to purchasing a small island and allowing you to roam freely but with no actual way of escape.”
He bent and kissed her throat before nudging her toward the sitting area. “Sit.”
She slowly walked over, trying to get her head around the fact that he’d wanted to do this to her two years ago. That meant Markus’s murder hadn’t created her crazy man, it had just prodded him out into the open. When she reached the loveseat and turned to sit, he was gone.
For fifteen minutes, she waited, tapping her nails on her thigh. She jumped a mile when Sorin’s huge frame appeared in the doorway. She popped to her feet and rushed to him.
“Our owner is the rudest man I’ve ever known.”
“He does have his moments. Come with me, Ms. Michaels.” A spark of interest lit in his dark eyes when he saw what she wore, but he didn’t say anything.
She walked alongside him down the corridor. “Where is he? Why did he leave me? He didn’t even say goodbye. And, holy crap, but do I sound whiny. Please ignore me.” She itched to link arms with him as she would have done with Eric. “Uh, so you wanna tell me where we’re going?”
“What do you think?” he rumbled in his deep voice.
Her lip quirked. “I think you’re dying to share, but your throat must hurt or something so you’re not talking. Am I close? Is that why when you mumbled those few words, it sounded as if you’d just swallowed glass?”
He used the back of his wrist to give her shoulder a gentle shove. She almost went through the wall. “You are as cheeky as Tabia. I had forgotten how nice it was to have an annoying girl in the house.”
Her jaw dropped, and then she laughed. “Sorin! You don’t tell a girl she’s annoying. Who’s Tabia?”
“My older sister.”
“You have a sister? Lucky. Just the one?”
“I also have a younger brother. He lives in Beijing.”
“Nice. One of each. How wonderful for you.”
“Tabia and Lucian’s Miruna were close friends.”
Yasmeen’s stomach lurched. “Miruna? Who’s she?” If he said Lucian’s first love or first or second wife, she might just throw up on the window seat up ahead.
“Lucian’s older sister.”
She grabbed his python of an arm and skidded to a halt. “What? Lucian has a sister? Oh, my God. That’s amazing. So he’s not completely alone without Markus. Where is she?”
Sorin was shaking his head. “Miruna is also gone.”
Her hand went to her throat as another piece of her heart broke for her madman. “Nooo. Aw, Sorin, shut up. Don’t tell me that.”
His beard went crooked, his eyes dancing. “Not many people tell me to shut up.”
She waved her hand in the air as they started up the stairs, too distracted to appreciate she’d made him smile. “You know I didn’t mean it. Seriously, the last thing I’d do is shut down the one person who actually talks to me like I’m a person.”
He patt
ed the top of her head like one would a child.
“How did she die?”
“In an accident. It is not so fresh anymore because she has been gone since he was a boy.” They reached the third level and began walking along the corridor that led to the ballroom. “But that does not make it any less of a loss.”
“Of course, it wouldn’t. What kind of accident? Or is that a secret?”
He tipped his head in a way that told her nothing. “It is not for me to say.”
Two siblings. Both gone. Poor Lucian, she thought as she skipped again to try to keep up with Sorin’s long strides. “Are we late?” She was beginning to get winded.
“No.”
“So, you’re making me run because you think I’m not getting enough exercise?”
“At this point, I do not believe you could get more exercise if you lived in a gym.”
She stumbled and just barely caught herself at the blunt reference to the sex she and Lucian had been having. It was the exact kind of thing Eric would have said. “Yeah, he is kinda energetic,” she returned. “Do you know a guy named Eric Halston? Maybe you’re related?”
“Mr. Halston is your friend, not mine.”
She stopped again. “You know Eric?”
He nudged her along. “I know all your friends, Ms. Michaels.”
“Because you’re Lucian’s spy.”
“Okay.”
She couldn’t believe it, but she grinned at that. “Where is he?”
“Eric? I do not know.”
It was her turn to attempt to shove his stone shoulder. “Lucian, silly.”
“In his office.”
“Oh. And where are you taking me?”
“Here.” He paused before two tall doors and opened one side to wave her in.
The moment a waft of air came from the room, her mouth gushed with water.
Popcorn.
She went in and inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar smell of a movie theater, which was what she was now standing in. There were three rows of black leather chairs already in the reclined position, six in each row. A large screen framed by a red curtain was at the front, with a popcorn machine and candy stand off to the side.
“Are you kidding me?” she whispered as she walked down and looked over an impressive array of candy and chocolate.
“Lucian thought you might be feeling homesick. He gave me another of his lists and hoped this might help. He also wanted you occupied while he works for a few hours. Take what you will.”
Unable to say a word now because she was so flabbergasted, she swallowed the appreciation making her throat ache and took one of the boxes of popcorn already prepared behind the glass door of the machine. She grabbed a Snickers and some Swedish Berries then went to sit in the front row. She had to bite her lips together when the theme song to Friends started up and the familiar group of New Yorkers flashed on the screen.
“He does have some redeeming qualities,” Sorin murmured at her back before she heard his footsteps retreat.
♦ ♦ ♦
After a five-hour marathon of Joey and Chandler and the gang, Yasmeen was fully recharged and intent on reaching the unreachable. She made her way back to their room to shower and change into a wine-colored long-sleeve dress that was too soft and comfy looking to resist.
“Okay,” she muttered as she headed out. “Let’s see if we can get some smiles out of you.”
She spent the next half hour roaming the chilly halls until she found herself nearing the theater again. She’d finally bumped into Sorin in the sitting room, and he’d said Lucian had come up to get her an hour ago.
“Huh.” The room was quiet and empty. She looked further down, and knowing it was probably vacant, but wanting a peek anyway, she went and pushed open one of the doors hiding the ballroom from view. She half expected it to make a loud creak, but it didn’t dare. Not in Mr. Fane’s castle.
She poked her head into the enormous, unlit room and saw nothing but the long, unset…
He was there. A solitary figure sitting at the head of the table, overlooking fifty empty chairs. She cleared her throat and cringed when the sound echoed. His head came up. She couldn’t see his expression from so far away, but she felt his gaze like a physical touch.
“Come.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please…?” she suggested.
Silence.
She leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb and started whistling while looking at her nails. It was a sad attempt because she couldn’t whistle. It was more just puffs of air pushing through her lips, but, whatever. It wasn’t until she shifted to press her back against the jamb as if to get comfortable, that he spoke again.
“Please, come to me, Yasmeen.”
Her body lit up like a circuit board. The man was delicious. Psychotic and annoying, and hurting too deeply for her to reach, but still delicious.
And he deserved a reward for giving in, and for this day, so she skipped to him in her slippers. He pushed the elaborately carved chair away from the table and lifted a hand, palm up.
She placed hers in it, and he got her between him and the table rather than take her into his lap as she’d been expecting. She opened her mouth and took a quiet breath to offer her thanks for bringing New York to her, but he stopped her by loosely taking hold of her hips and bringing his head down to rest on her navel.
“Just…be here in the quiet, hmm?”
A subdued Lucian was a new thing. A scary thing. Maybe she shouldn’t leave him alone so long next time. She shelved her thanks and looked down at him for a beat before stealing the opportunity to touch him as a lover would. Not a sex partner. She slid her fingers into his hair and stroked them through until she reached his nape. He’d showered at some point, too, she noted.
Her skin tingled when he went to the hem of her dress and flattened his palms on her calves. His touch was firm and possessive as he traveled back up to her waist. He didn’t expose her but allowed the folds of the dress to fall over his wrists to hide her panties. She bit her lip, wanting to talk. To ask him if there was anything she could do that might help him. She didn’t. Rather she respected his wishes and remained quiet. When she absently dropped a kiss to the top of his head, he lifted it and looked up at her. The only illumination in the room came from the moonlight slanting in through the window that made up the one wall, and, because she’d left the door open, the chandelier in the reception area cast a golden flow. But because he’d placed her between him and the door, his face was in shadows.
“I should not enjoy frightening you. I should not have enjoyed binding you. Making it so you were completely helpless, relying on me for your every need. You should know I am aware of this.”
She ran her pinkie across his brow, wishing she could smooth the knot that forever marred it. “But you did enjoy it?”
He pulled her hand down and rubbed it across his lap. He was hard as stone. “This continues to happen from just the memory of it.” He put her hand back on his head. “I enjoyed the strain in your voice when you came for me, and was extremely pleased when you begged for my cock. Pushing you to the edge is a pleasure unlike any I have experienced before.”
She trailed her fingers down his cheeks. “It seems we both pleased each other today.” She bent and kissed him on the mouth. “Thank you for being so thoughtful. I had a great time.”
“Hanging from my ceiling or eating popcorn?”
She grinned, wondering how she could now find humor in something that had freaked her out at the time. “Both,” she admitted because it was true.
He rested his head again. “I wish you had not showered.”
She went back to stroking her fingers through his hair. “Why?” She looked closer at the dark locks. “I can’t believe you don’t have any gray hair. How old are you?”
“Forty-two. The smell of our sex is intoxicating.”
Warmth drifted through her lower belly. “Mmm, yeah, it is. You are one gorgeous forty-two, Mr. Fane. Very sexy in a keep-yo
ur-daughters-hidden-away kind of thing. I mean, the mothers should hide them, not you.”
He made a quiet sound of agreement before growing quiet. She gave him a moment and then snuck in a loaded question.
“Why does everything have to be about sex?”
He made her blink when he stood and lifted her by the waist. He looked into her face as he dragged her down his body to set her ass on the table. Down his head came. His lips were soft but firm as he led the kiss, his tongue delving between her lips to seek hers. They met, rolled, tasted and savored. It was tender, meaningful.
To her.
He sucked her bottom lip between his and bit down until she opened her eyes.
“Bare your pussy.”
“Now?” The word was distorted because of the hold he had her in. He opened his jaws to let her go.
“It belongs to me, and I have asked you to bare it. If I am forced to do so again, it will be spanked.”
As she tried not to combust, he released her and reclaimed his seat.
Swallowing hard at their positions, knowing exactly where this was going, she slowly pulled her skirt up her legs.
“Wait.”
He slid off her ballet slippers and set them next to his chair, then took her right leg and placed her foot on the table with her heel snug to the back of her thigh. Her left was positioned similarly, which had the skirt from her dress falling back out of the way all on its own. When she moved her panties aside, she would be totally open to him.
He pulled up his chair and placed his palms down on the table. “Reveal my meal,” he said with a nod.
“You’re a dirty man,” she accused quietly as she drew the panel of her panties to the side.
He shook his head and made a sound of hunger as he passed over her lips with the backs of his knuckles. “Such a gorgeous pussy. I will eat it. You will come. I want to feel the pull of your orgasm on my tongue as I swallow your cream.”
“Easy-peasy,” she whispered.
“Lean back on your arm. This time, you may watch how much pleasure I take from having you. Maybe that will answer your question.” The closer his mouth got to her, the more excited she became. “Your scent should be bottled.”
Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) Page 17
