Her head shot up when he arrived and he noted she was reading a book which she had opened on her thighs.
He turned to close the door. When he turned back, her head was again bent to the book. He watched her as he walked into the room, shrugging off his suit jacket. He continued to watch her as he threw it on the foot of the bed and moved closer. And he continued to watch her as he walked past her to the small table at the arm of the lounge.
She kept her head bent to her book the whole time, ignoring him but her heart was racing and he smelled her fear.
He bent and picked up the bookmark that was resting on the table next to a cold drink and walked to the lounge, seating himself an inch away from her feet.
Then he twisted his torso, reached out and pulled the book from her hands.
Her head snapped up and she cried angrily, “Hey!”
This time he ignored her, put the mark in the book and leaned into her.
She cringed back against the arm of the lounge, her head turning slightly to the side, the pace of her heart escalating.
Lucien ignored this too.
He deposited the book on the table, leaned in further and put a hand in the chaise on either side of her hips, his stomach and chest brushing her calves.
His eyes caught her wary ones and he demanded, “When I come to you, Leah, I want you to greet me.”
He watched her jaw tighten and the flash in her eyes and he waited for her reply.
She gave it to him. “I’m sorry, oh Great Master. Hello. How was your day?”
He smiled right before he moved.
He’d decided not to hide his heightened abilities from her. He would be nothing but what he was with Leah.
In a second he had her out of the lounge and resituated in it, stretched out on her back, Lucien at her side up on his forearm leaning over her, his lower body pressed against hers.
When he was done, her dark blue eyes were wide, her full lips parted and her breath had stopped.
“You don’t have to use the ‘great’ part, pet. ‘Master’ will do,” he teased her, still smiling.
She wrinkled her nose and glared. He threw his head back and laughed, barely controlling the urge to bury his face in her throat to get closer to her scent, her pulse, her.
Instead, when he stopped laughing, he put his hand at her fully-healed neck and ran his thumb down her jugular while his eyes watched its movements.
Then his gaze caught hers. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
“Full,” she replied in a sharp, unfriendly voice. “Edwina isn’t skimpy with her portions.”
His brows went up. “You’ve eaten?”
“Yes.”
His thumb continued caressing her throat and his eyes moved back to it as he murmured, “I would have liked to share dinner with you.”
He felt her body give a small jolt, his gaze went to hers and he caught her wonder before she could hide it.
“You’re surprised?” he asked.
She briefly struggled with something before she nodded.
“Why are you surprised?” he went on. “Because I eat or because I wish to eat with you?”
“Because you eat.” Her voice was still short, clipped, hostile.
Even so his body relaxed, pressing closer to hers, settling in. Hers tensed.
“I eat, I drink, I sleep, I bathe. I do everything you do,” Lucien told her.
She made no comment to this although her face was filled with curiosity.
She hid the curiosity and decided to change the subject, demanding, “Are we going to talk?”
“We are talking.”
She lifted her hand and waved it around. “No, not talking-talking. Talking about whatever it was you wanted to talk about this morning.”
“We’ll get to that.”
“Can we do it now so you can go?”
“That has a two part answer,” he explained and her brows knitted.
“It’s a yes or no question,” she informed him.
“Then no, to both parts.”
He watched her jaw clench again and he heard her teeth grind together. It took another enormous effort not to laugh.
“Why can’t we get this over with?” she insisted.
“Because I’d like a moment to relax and get a drink.”
She made to move and he allowed more of his weight to settle on her until she stilled.
“If you let me up, I’ll get you a drink,” she offered with false courtesy.
He ignored her attempt to get away from him and his gaze moved to her glass. “What are you drinking?”
She didn’t answer as he took his hand from her neck and reached for the glass. He brought it to his nose and inhaled its scent. It was diet cola and rum.
His eyes moved to hers. “You shouldn’t be drinking spirits,” he admonished.
Her head tilted to the side and her blue eyes grew darker. “Is that an order?”
“For tonight, while you’re still recovering, yes. Any other time you can drink what you wish.”
“I just don’t believe you,” she whispered angrily under her breath.
This was something else he ignored while he took a drink from her glass. For some reason, this caused her to protest, her hand shooting out, fingers wrapping around his wrist and jerking to no avail.
“Hey! Don’t drink from my drink!”
He replaced the glass on the table and looked at her. “Why?”
“It’s my drink!”
“Yes. And?”
“You can’t drink my drink!”
“And why not?”
“Because it’s my drink.”
He sighed her name, “Leah.”
She mimicked his sigh sarcastically. “Lucien.”
He could bear it no longer. She was, quite simply, enchanting.
He burst into laughter, burying his face in her neck while he pulled her to her side facing him, his arms wrapping tight around her, pressing her torso deep against his chest.
“Stop hugging me,” she grumbled over his shoulder, her hands between them pushing against him.
His hand slid down her back to its small, right above her ass and he pressed in. “I can’t help it, pet, you’re entirely huggable.”
“I’m huggable?”
He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Entirely.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know, Lucien, you need to make up your mind. Either you’re this guy or you’re the jerky, controlling guy who I met at The Selection or you’re the near-miss murder guy last night. Pick one. I’m getting confused.”
He pulled slightly away, bent his elbow and rested his head in his hand, looking down at her.