The Surrender: Falling In Part 34

Spontaneously, she turned and went to her jewelry box. She found the string of pearls Lucian had given her for Christmas and wrapped them twice around her neck. She snapped the matching bracelet around her wrist and twisted her hair high on her head. In the closet she found a pair of black satin stilettos. She applied some gloss to her lips and walked as proudly as one could manage in such an asinine ensemble, into the common area of the suite. Thinking back to the special she and Lucian had watched on the Kennedy's, she imagined she looked like JFK's greatest fantasy, somewhere between Jackie and Marilyn.

Grat.i.tude swamped her when she saw dinner had been delivered. It was bad enough Patrice had to see her like this. Lucian stood and there was a noticeable moment when he stopped breathing.

Huh, maybe there is some courage in lingerie. Magic undies!

He held out her chair and she gracefully sat. She placed her napkin over her lap with all the hauteur she could manage then frowned. "Where's Patrice?"

Lucian's eyes darkened as he sipped from a gla.s.s. "I sent her home. You look stunning, Evelyn."

"But . . . I thought . . ."

He shook his head. "I know what you thought. I'm disappointed in the way you welcomed me home. You'll make up for that after dinner. Eat." Her eyes never left him the entire time they ate.

She'd love to say the tilapia was delicious, but for all she knew it might've been pasta. He kept the wine and conversation flowing and eventually she forgot she was in her underwear.

When he wiped his mouth and tossed the linen napkin on the plate, she swallowed. Maybe she'd overreacted. Her breath filled her lungs as she considered what he might have in mind for her penance. Evelyn lowered her gaze as she realized her reaction to Patrice in their home might have been less about being s.e.xually pushed and more about not wanting to share Lucian. Her brow creased as she examined this territorial side she hadn't realized she possessed.

"Can I interest you in dessert?"

She looked up at him, quite concerned about what he'd planned next. "No, thank you."

He smiled under hooded eyes. "Why don't we have a seat on the couch?"

She stood and walked to the settee. The cool air of the condo played over her exposed curves. Lucian sat, pose relaxed as his elbow dangled over the armrest. He patted the s.p.a.ce next to his thigh and Evelyn settled beside him. She was excruciatingly aware of her lack of clothing and was sure she wore a deep blush down to her barely there bra.

Evelyn stiffened as Lucian's lips pressed to her shoulder. "Do you remember our discussion when we last left Folsom?" he whispered, breath hot and teasing the escaped wisps of hair along her neck.

She'd thought of little else over the past hour. Her lashes lowered. "Yes."

His long fingers traced over her hip and up her belly. Apprehension, paired with the sensual way he was fondling her, had her trembling. He cupped her breast and pulled away the lace, exposing her even more.

She feared he was still angry with her, but his touch was gentle. He slipped a hand beneath Evelyn's knees and lifted her legs onto the sofa. The pointy toes of her black high heels tilted toward the arm of the settee. He plucked at her nipples, both now exposed. "Part your legs for me, Evelyn."

She hesitated and Lucian whispered, seeming to sense her nervousness. "You have a safe word if you need it. Trust me to know how much is too much."

It was silly to be nervous. They were alone and he wouldn't hurt her. However, she'd obviously upset him, perhaps even embarra.s.sed him earlier, and that scared her. Taking a steadying breath, her knees slowly parted and cool air tickled the bare flesh.

Lucian drew her hands to her side, pressing them into the seat, a quiet command not to move. His fingertips trailed over her stomach and down to her p.u.s.s.y. "Are you wet?"

Evelyn shut her eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Mmm, I like when you call me that." Lucian's fingers traced down her folds and he chuckled, feeling she was indeed wet. "You belong to me, Evelyn. Just because an unexpected guest stops by, does not give you the right to make a.s.sumptions about my motives. I know where your mind went tonight and I can't say I'm happy with your behavior. I am quite protective of what I consider mine and I don't take kindly to others trespa.s.sing on my property. You should know this by now."

There was so much Evelyn could've taken offense to in that statement, but her relief outweighed her outrage. Her shoulders sagged at his unmistakable proclamation that no one would touch her aside from him.

He must have sensed her relief, because he kissed her temple and whispered, "Trust."

Lucian continued to fondle her folds. He spoke as if this were just another business meeting. "I want to be very clear. You're quite important to me and what might have been okay in the beginning, no longer is. Tell me, Evelyn, whose p.u.s.s.y is this?"

"Yours, Lucian." Her voice was a mere rasp. Her shoulders subtly lifted with each breath.

He rewarded her with a gentle tug on her c.l.i.t. His hands slid up to her chest. "And whose b.r.e.a.s.t.s?"

She sighed as he cupped her in his warm palms. "Yours."

"And who owns that delectable little a.s.s of yours?"

Her body tightened. "You do, Lucian. Only you."

She sensed his satisfaction.

"Did you think I would let her touch you?"

Evelyn slowly glanced over her shoulder at him. "I didn't know."

His lips twisted in a disapproving smile. "I meant what I said, Evelyn. I won't share you. Ever. I believe you've found a place in my heart no woman has ever visited before. I fear for anyone who tries to lay a hand on you."

A bit of her confidence slipped back into place. She turned onto her hands and knees and pressed a kiss to his soft lips. Smiling, she said, "I should slap you for calling me a possession."

He smiled unapologetically. "Is that so?" She nodded and jumped when his palm slapped down on the exposed cheek of her a.s.s. "Bring it, Ms. Keats. I like it rough."

Before she could answer, she was flipped onto her back and he was on top of her, pinning her arms above her head and ravis.h.i.+ng her mouth. He somehow managed to strip his clothes away while never depriving her of his touch.

When he filled her, it was fast and potent. She arched into him as his mouth marked every curve of flesh he could get his lips on. Their lovemaking had never been so furious, so possessive. She clawed at his shoulders, wanting to mark him as well. He bit and nipped at her tender parts, and when they came it was an act of nature, so potent, so all-consuming, the earth could have fallen from its axis and neither of them would've known.

He carried her to their bed some time later, and she sighed as he pulled her close. Her mind was off in some place only Lucian could take her, and she luxuriated in those calm moments, surrendered to them, knowing he'd hold her as long as she needed.

Chapter 43.

Wishes After her dance lessons, Evelyn was always in a good mood, but today not so much. Lucian had to cancel because something "extremely important" came up. She still enjoyed herself. Their instructor, Ferdinand, was a very sweet man.

Lucian hired him for her lessons because he was the best around and also because he loved men. Evelyn laughed when she remembered him ranting about how he would never tolerate another man's hands on her, yet once Ferdinand admitted he was gay, Lucian reconsidered.

She wasn't sure if it was her instructor's taste for men, or more specifically, Lucian's taste for her, but the dancing today lacked the intensity that usually came when she danced with Lucian.

Evelyn hoped whatever had pulled him away didn't keep him long. She stepped into the elevator, missing him, and slid her key in the slot and pressed for the penthouse. Odd; there was a pink balloon floating by its lonesome at the ceiling, its long pink string curling all the way to the floor.

She shrugged and stepped off the elevator. Walking to the private bank of elevators, she spotted another pink balloon floating in the hall. There must be a party in one of the ballrooms. She took the elevator up.

At the master suite she keyed open the door and glumly walked in, wondering if she should order dinner or wait for Lucian. Her shoes kicked off by the door and she stilled as something caught her eye.

Raising her head slowly, her jaw dropped as she took in the sight. Hundreds, no, thousands of beribboned pink balloons danced along the ceiling. Evelyn turned as a light clicked on to her right.

She frowned. "h.e.l.lo?"

She saw a note and navigated through the long curling strings to get to it. It was a big word. She took a deep breath and quietly sounded it out. "Ha-p . . . hap-pyah . . . happee-yah . . . happee . . . happy!"

Evelyn turned and another light flickered on over at Lucian's desk. She ran over and found another note. "B-ih-r-tuh . . . bihrtuh . . ." She frowned and took a deep breath. She looked at the word. Th said thhhh . . . "Bih-rrr-th . . . bihrth . . . birth . . . Birth!"

She smiled, expecting another and turned. A small lamp flicked on in the hall. She ran over. She picked up the small paper and recognized the word. "Day!" She shouted and jumped. "Happy birthday!" The bedroom light flipped on, and Evelyn ran in and slid to a stop.

Lucian stood in his tuxedo, holding a cupcake with a candle. He was surrounded by at least twenty-two other cakes. Big cakes, wedding-style cakes, chocolate cakes, ice cream cakes, each one with a tall candle burning on the top. One for every birthday she never had.

She shook her head, speechless.

"Happy birthday, Evelyn. Make a wish."

Three staggered steps and she was in front of him. She looked in his beautiful dark eyes, candlelight s.h.i.+ning back from their soft depths. How had she ever mistaken his eyes as being hard? Gazing down at the candle burning between them, she thought of the one thing she wanted most. She had twenty-two other candles to get to and plenty of wishes to fill each extinguis.h.i.+ng breath, but this one was the important one. This one would count.

She took a deep breath and blew.

Don't let anything take him away from me.

Part IV.

Parker.

Chapter 44.

Fast.

f.u.c.k.

Parker picked up the wallet and fought back the temptation of pocketing it. If someone saw him, he'd lose his job. With a sigh he looked for the three-piece suit who had dropped it and saw him climbing into the back of a sleek black limo.

The limo pulled into traffic and started stealthily down the busy street.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," he muttered and began chasing after the car.

"Parker? Your s.h.i.+ft's not over," Philippe shouted. No time to stop. He lost sight of the limo as it turned off of Gerard and onto Was.h.i.+ngton.

The sidewalks were clogged with pain in the a.s.s, pokey pedestrians. His Patras hat flew off his head, but Parker didn't slow down to retrieve it. He b.u.mped a woman in the shoulder, and taking a second he couldn't really spare, he stopped to steady her and offer a quick apology. When he looked up, the limo was blocks ahead and moving in the turning lane, heading down the main line.

His soft-soled dress shoes skidded over the pavement as he took off again. Once Parker caught up to where the limo turned, he stopped. In a sea of yellow cabs there were three limos. He did a quick a.s.sessment of each black car and decided the one two blocks up on the left looked to be his guy.

Parker's knees pumped hard as he sprinted after the car, hurdling small obstacles along the way. He almost lost it again, but some traffic snagged the limo's progress. His breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He practically collapsed on the back window as he banged his palm on the gla.s.s.

The chauffer poked his head out the window and frowned. "Hey! Get out of here!"

Too out of breath to offer an explanation, Parker banged on the window again. The black gla.s.s slowly lowered. He sighed when he recognized the man with bright blue eyes and caramel-colored skin.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

He panted and held up the billfold. "You dropped-" Parker breathed. "Your wallet."

The man's expression relaxed. He looked out the back window as if checking where they were at the moment. He then read the Patras emblem on his blazer. "You ran all the way here from Patras?"

"I didn't . . . want you . . . to lose your stuff."

The man popped the door open and scooted back. "Get in."

Parker hesitated a moment and then nodded, sliding onto the soft leather seat. It had been a while since he had been on the inside of a limo but the memory suffused him before he shook it off. "Thank you." He was finally catching his breath.

The man eyed him as he flipped through his wallet once Parker handed it to him. His brow rose. "Everything's here. Thank you. I'll give you a ride back if you don't mind a little detour."

"I appreciate it, but I can't." Parker pointed to his blazer. "I'm on the clock."

"Does it really matter?" the man asked, and Parker frowned.

What kind of question was that? "Uh, yeah, to me it does. And I'm sure to my boss. I can't accept my paycheck if I didn't earn it honestly, and I need the money."

It was tempting to bail on the day, but he pushed his ethics forward. Don't be a cheat like your father.

The man grinned as if his answer impressed him. Parker wondered if his comment had been some sort of a test. "Slade Bishop." He held out his hand.

He shook the proffered hand and introduced, "Parker Hughes."

"Hughes, that's a big name around these parts."

"Used to be," he remarked dryly. He hated his name. It was the last link he had to his father.

"Any relation to Crispin Hughes?"

Parker grimaced. He could lie, but the man's vibrant blue eyes seemed to be reading him keenly for any falsehoods. "He was my father."

"No kidding," the man said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "Quite an impressive man your father was. I'm sorry about what happened. He led a decent life up until the end."

Until he shot himself and left his family bankrupt, Parker silently finished. "My father was a crook."

"He wasn't the first to dabble in insider trading and he won't be the last."

This was not a conversation Parker expected to be having. The car moved. "Uh, look, I just wanted to make sure you got your wallet, but I really gotta go." He sat up and the man gestured for him to stay put.

"Stay. I'm sure your boss will understand."