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Black, lacy, delicate, and entirely suited for the style of dress. I wasn’t sure whether to feel weird about the fact that I was putting on underwear a man had bought for me, or whether I should’ve been incredibly turned on. In the end, I settled on both.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but find myself wondering what the hell he was doing. Was he buttering me up to keep me docile? Was he manipulating me because he knew what buttons to press—and then some? Or was something else going on? Did he, perhaps, just want to know I was wearing underwear he had picked out for me?
Part of me, definitely the part between my legs, hoped for the latter, but I still had to keep my guard up.
It took a while for me to work up the courage to leave the bathroom after I had finished getting ready. I felt wildly overdressed. Where the hell did I think I was going, dressed like this, with the son of a magical mob boss? Eventually, once I’d managed to shake the thoughts loose, I left the bathroom to find Lucien fussing with the cuffs of the shirt he was wearing.
It was a white, buttoned-down shirt. A pair of suspenders ran up and over his shoulders, then down to his waist to hold up a pair of charcoal grey slacks. He wasn’t wearing a tie but had instead popped the top three buttons of his shirt, revealing what looked like a silver necklace with an amulet I couldn’t quite pick out.
He stopped when he saw me. For a moment he stood there, his throat silently working, his eyes scanning up and down the length of me. In that instant, I felt as exposed as I did powerful. If he was manipulating me with gifts, and the promise of getting me out of this, then all I could do was try to appeal to the animal inside of him and remind him who I was.
All of the doubts I had felt a second ago were gone.
For the first time in… forever… I could read Lucien’s face, and what I saw on it was hunger—and I liked it.
I watched him swallow, lick his lips, and clench his jaw. “Do you like it?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, “Thank you.”
“And the shoes fit?”
“Perfectly… how did you know what sizes to buy?”
One of his eyebrows arched. He didn’t say the words, but he didn’t have to, because I was imagining his response. I’ve had my hands on you enough times. My cheeks instantly reddened, and a starburst of fireworks rippled through my chest. I rolled my eyes, trying desperately to hide the way I truly felt. “What’s wrong with those?” I asked.
Lucien looked at his cuffs. “Nothing. It’s just a stupid button.”
I walked up to him. “Let me help,” I said, taking his hands and separating them.
“You don’t have to do that.”
I looked up at him. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“Stubborn?”
“Yes. Infuriatingly so,” I said, as I worked at the buttons on his wrist.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he took a slight whiff of my perfume, or maybe of my hair. His hand suddenly clasped mine. I felt my heartrate instantly shoot up to dangerous levels. I wanted to ask him what he was doing, but I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Not while they were still listening.
He slowly ran his thumb along and across mine, felt my hand in his hands. His touch was electric, enough to make my breath catch in my throat. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. What are you doing?
He didn’t speak. He couldn’t, either. Instead, he looked at me, his jaw clenched, his eyes stern, and dark, and red. He looked like a Diaboli, but his touch was… kind. Gentle. Soft. What was he trying to tell me? His expression relaxed, and I thought I saw something like care in his eyes. Compassion. Maybe even remorse.
What is happening?!
Lucien gently let go of my hand. I quickly went back to working at the buttons on his wrists. When I was done, I drew away from him. “That should… uh, that should do it,” I said.
“Thank you,” Lucien said.
He reached for a suit jacket he had laid out over the back of a chair and slipped it around his formidable shoulders. He looked good in it. Strong, tall, handsome. Like he belonged in the mafia. The tattoos across his hands and fingers only served to heighten that bad boy look he was clearly going for.
The bad boy look I had totally fallen for back in our club days, hook, line, and sinker.
“I have one more thing for you,” he said.
Lucien then came up behind me, opened the small, rectangular jewelry box he had insisted I leave behind, and set it on the table after picking up what looked like a diamond necklace. It sparkled whenever it caught the light, and when he placed it on my bare neck, it was cold, but it was stunning.
I had never seen anything like it.
