“Yes?”
“Are you still angry at me?”
She felt his fingers move in her hair. Pleasure rippled from her scalp to her neck and lower, tightening her nipples against his ribs.
“No,” his deep voice resonated into her when she pressed her ear to his chest. “I’m angry at myself. I always have prided myself in understanding you—reading you, even when you were acting at your finest. But I failed in this, ma fifille. I’m sorry.”
She lay there, stunned by what he’d said in his quiet, deep voice.
“What do you mean?” she whispered. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Ripples of sensation cascaded down her neck and spine when his long fingers moved in her hair.
“I had told myself I wouldn’t flinch at anything you ever pulled. But this?” He laughed harshly. “I would have never guessed it—that you’d never been with a man.”
Tears stung behind her eyelids. “I have been with men, Lucien. Plenty of them. I’m no innocent.”
“Yes you are.”
He sounded so starkly sure, she lifted her chin.
She felt him exhale.
“You’re a paradox, Elise Martin. A virgin siren. I should have known not to make assumptions about you. I should have reminded myself that you wouldn’t make things simple for me.”
She turned her face into his chest, sighing as he ran his hand down over her back. Emotion swelled in her, as it often did at his deft touch. “I just wanted you so badly,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his skin.
“You almost got yourself killed in order to show me,” he said. “It would have been better if you’d just told me what you were feeling . . . what you wanted.”
“But you already knew how I felt, how desperate I was getting. You were being cruel by withholding yourself from me,” she blurted out against his skin.
He cupped the back of her skull. She lifted her head, even though she couldn’t see him in the darkness. “I wasn’t being cruel. I was waiting.”
She stilled. “Waiting for what?”
“For you to tell me what you desired. What you needed.”
“But I have been telling you!”
“Have you?”
His rich, quiet voice ran over her in the darkness, making her skin tingle. The question kept ringing in her head. Hadn’t she been telling him? She’d made it clear she was sexually available. She’d agreed to this arrangement. Lucien couldn’t possibly deny that, could he?
“I have specifically told you I wanted us to be lovers, even agreeing to this unorthodox relationship you’ve suggested.”
“That isn’t the desire I’ve been waiting to hear,” he said, his fingertip rubbing the base of her skull in a manner that lulled her, despite her pique and confusion. She opened her lips to demand more information, but then he spread his large hand across her cheek and jaw, and his mouth was closing over hers in a melting kiss. By the time he lifted his mouth, her greatest desire was right on the tip of her tongue.
“Go to sleep,” he said.
“But—”
He pressed her head back down to his chest and gathered her closer in his arms. She bit her lower lip when she felt his cock stir against her thigh. “You showed discretion by wearing these pajamas. You’re respecting my wishes instead of flaunting yourself, when you know how difficult it would be for me to resist.”
She just lay there, part of her brain busy absorbing his words, the other portion focused on the sensation of his growing erection.
“You’re going running with Francesca very early, aren’t you?” he murmured.
“Yes,” she mumbled. With all the tumultuous events of the day, she’d forgotten about that. Suddenly, her muscles felt too weary to even consider moving, let alone running for miles. “I’ll have to set an alarm,” she said sleepily, nuzzling Lucien’s skin with her nose appreciatively.
“I already set it for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, sincerely grateful. It was sweet of him, to have thought of her.
“Go to sleep. It’s been a long day for both of us. I rode you hard and rough in those stables. Any woman would need a night to recover from that, let alone a virgin.”
“A once-virgin,” she corrected drowsily. “And I’m perfectly well.”
He made a sound of rough irritation and amusement, which caused regret to soak into her awareness yet again. Despite his tone, his long fingers trailed down her spine, caressing her, making her limbs go heavy with exhaustion. How could he be annoyed and yet touch her so cherishingly?
“Good night, ma chère.”
It was the last thing she heard before she sunk into the rich decadence of sleeping in Lucien’s arms.
* * *
The next morning, Francesca and she jogged side by side, Elise watching with wonder as the round, red ball of the sun crested the shimmering blue lake.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a sunrise before,” she murmured as they jogged.
Francesca gave her a surprised glance, sending the end of her rose-gold ponytail across her shoulder. They’d met up before dawn in front of the building where Ian’s penthouse was located. Elise had left her backpack filled with things for work with the doorman and Francesca and she had taken off together in the predawn light. This was their first time running together and they were well matched as partners.
“Really? The first time?”
“I’ve seen them before, of course,” Elise said. She noticed Francesca’s bewildered expression at her seeming contradiction. “Sorry. I guess I was sort of thinking out loud. I just feel really awake this morning. Good. It’s like I’ve looked at a sunset before, but never really seen it. Have you ever felt that way?”