A Perfect Storm (11 page)

Yeesss
. Bracing his back against the wall, right by the window, Lucien hissed and rubbed his cock again. Every nerve ending in Lucien’s dick cried out for the slick clutch of Sophie’s body. Giving in, he spit in his hands, dived into his underwear again, and jerked himself off stroke after stroke after stroke, never giving his cock a reprieve from his touch. His balls grew heavier with every rough touch, but Lucien kept his hands away from his sac, wanting this to be all about the feel of coming from the sensation of Sophie’s snug, welcoming channel clutching his cock.
Jesus
. From the way she’d visibly struggled at first to get that small dildo inside her, he knew her cunt would practically strangle his length with fist-tight spasms.

Just like that, Lucien’s nuts sucked up against his body.
Fucking shit
. Lucien punched his hips forward and imagined plunging into Sophie with raw aggression.
So good. So fucking good
. Drilling the back of his head into the wall, Lucien dragged his hands up and down his rigid shaft one, two, three more times, and then shouted roughly as orgasm roared all the way through his frame. Holding his dick, Lucien gritted his teeth through each sharp wave of release and watched himself shoot cum all over the floor, all the while wishing like hell he could spill himself deep in the hold of Sophie’s body.

Denial of his need for a pure, honest connection rocked through Lucien with just as much power as his orgasm had. That denial had him shoving away from the wall before the deepest seeds of pure joy could settle inside him. He had a job to do, and he could never forget it. He had let himself get caught up in the alluring innocence of Sophie Emerson, but he had to remember the more crucial piece of information that had come out of this night: Sophie wanted to play. Lucien had not scared her away. She had pushed herself out of her comfort zone and right into Lucien’s plan.

Lucien moved across his bedroom, pausing next to his dresser and the picture of a sandy-haired kid smiling up at him.

I haven’t forgotten about you
. His throat catching, Lucien fingered the photo and reclaimed his resolve.

Time to set the stage for phase two.

Chapter Six

Brilliant morning light twinkled across the floor of Sophie’s bedroom, drawing her completely out of her slumber. After not having slept much her first night at Ravenstoke, she’d crashed hard last night and not twitched even once until a few minutes ago.

You slept the sleep of a well-sated woman
. As she rolled onto her back to stretch, Sophie released something between a chuckle and a groan. While in reality she’d had only a dildo inside her, she still couldn’t shake the sensation that Lucien had been in the bedroom with her the whole way. Her very arousal itself and the ache to take care of it, not to mention the bold manner in which she’d pushed herself to come, wouldn’t even have existed if not for Lucien. He’d been at the heart of the whole episode.
You did it completely for him.

“Oh God.” Sophie covered her face as if Lucien stood in her room, judging her right now. She considered herself an independent woman; she shouldn’t want to make herself a sexual entity for a man. Especially when she had to have a professional relationship with said man. After what she’d done last night, he would never take her seriously. She not only wasn’t sure she’d get the story of Raven Island and its castle for her station anymore, but she also began to wonder if a real story even existed. More than likely, she’d let Lucien manipulate her right from Magnus’s first phone call.
Dang it
. She hated playing into stereotypes. Not only the chauvinistic ones of a woman’s inability to act professionally in a work environment, but of being young and blonde too, and thus those in power shouldn’t have to take her seriously at all.

Different paths showed themselves in Sophie’s mind. Down one road, she could put the story on the back burner, or even let it fall to the wayside, and focus entirely on why Lucien had brought her here. Down that first road, she would let go of her fear about the choices she would have to make to achieve that goal and how they might get in the way of her credibility as a producer. The second lane meant apologizing for what she’d done last night and assuring Lucien nothing else of a sexual nature would happen with her again. She would have to essentially abandon discovering Lucien’s reasons for luring her to Raven Island and focus purely and diligently on getting his agreement for the story. Either way she chose, she could not pursue one without severely compromising, or even entirely letting go of, the other.

No way
. Sophie jolted straight up in bed. Her very being rejected giving up. Smarter than she looked or people gave her credit for, Sophie would figure out a way to achieve both goals. If she couldn’t get one step ahead of Lucien, then she at least needed to stay on par with him, swing for swing, and keep him off his game.

Bursting with new adrenaline, Sophie hopped out of bed. As she moved past the window, she came to a halt with a softly uttered “wow.” No wonder the light streaming in through the windows shone so bright. The sun steadily rose high into the sky, but a layer of freshly fallen snow blanketed the courtyard below, and more fat, beautiful flakes continued to fall. None of the angry storm from two nights ago or the dreary, wet darkness of yesterday remained. Spectacular brightness beamed through the window into Sophie and sank into her skin, warming her under the long-sleeved tee and panties.

As she rubbed her arms, Sophie belatedly jerked her focus up to Lucien’s window. Too much sunlight reflected off the glass, and she could not tell if anyone lurked beyond. Her stomach sank; she couldn’t identify if the sensation came from disappointment or relief. A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand told her it was 8:00 a.m., and she figured a guy like Lucien would already be hard at work. He struck her as someone who rarely slept at all but most definitely never slept in. Why she thought she knew that about him when in truth she didn’t know much about him at all, Sophie didn’t know. More of her gut coming into play, she suspected. And that instinct hadn’t been wrong about Owen.

Just as Sophie smiled to herself, a soft knock sounded at her door. After grabbing the robe off the foot of the bed and slipping into it, Sophie opened the door a crack. Emma stood on the other side with a coat, boots, and a few other pieces of clothing draped over her arm.

Sophie pulled the door open the rest of the way. “Good morning.” One more glance back at the window, then to Emma’s arm, and she added, “I take it with the snow outside and the extra clothing in your hands, I’m going to be at Ravenstoke for a while.”

“After communicating with some people on the mainland, Magnus relayed that rescue says getting you off this island is low on their to-do list. He and Lucien now believe you’ll be here at least a week.” Emma thrust her clothes-laden arm out to Sophie. “I altered a few more pieces of mine and Jade’s clothes for you last evening. You and I are almost the same shoe size, so I think with an extra layer of socks, the boots should fit. You should be all set now, no matter how the weather or temperature turns.”

“You didn’t have to do this, Emma. Jade either.” Sophie clutched the clothing to her chest, choked up by this woman’s generous spirit. “I could have rolled up pant legs or used belts. You shouldn’t have spent your evening sewing for me.”

“We both have extra to spare, and I make alterations and mend stuff enough that I can do it quickly.” Reaching out, Emma fingered the deep green pea coat. “I brought the coat because I thought you might like to join us outside after breakfast. Owen is wired and ready to go play in the snow. It’ll probably melt before the day is over, so he can’t bear to wait.” With a shrug and a sweet smile, Emma added, “I thought you might enjoy having some fun for a few hours.”

“I definitely would.” Sophie smiled back. “Thank you for the invite.”

“Okay.” Emma stepped back into the hall. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, and we’ll see you out back soon.”

Sophie grasped Emma’s arm. Her face heated ridiculously, but she asked, “Has Mr. Cabot agreed to play outside too?”

“Lucien and Magnus are working already,” Emma replied.

Sophie slumped. “Oh.”

The smooth skin between Emma’s brows furrowed. “Does that mean you’d rather get straight to work too?”

Just as fast as her shoulders had dropped, Sophie picked herself back up. “Absolutely not. I look forward to getting out in the fresh air and snow.” She laid the coat and boots on a chair by the door and began sorting through the other garments. Mostly skirts and tops—clearly Emma’s wardrobe preference—but she’d added a pair of jeans too. “I will be there ready to play hard.”

“Excellent!” Emma came to life in a way that made her seem like a teenage girl. “Owen will be so happy.” She backed down the hall, waving at Sophie. “Bye.”

Leaning her shoulder against the doorjamb, Sophie grinned at Emma retreating down the hall. “See you soon.”

Sophie stayed where she was for a good minute after Emma disappeared, and she let herself bask in the woman’s open nature and joy. As much as the wind had gone out of Sophie’s sail the moment she’d learned Lucien would not take time out of his schedule to play with Owen, she bounced back and accepted that this entire week did not have to revolve around the man. For all that she did not understand about the relationship between Lucien and his staff, those same mysterious employees all seemed like very nice people. And Sophie didn’t have any friends who had children yet, so getting to spend some time having fun with Owen struck at a nice place in her breast. She could indulge her inner kid for a few hours and work later.

Feeling much lighter than she had just a few minutes ago, Sophie grabbed up a shirt and the pair of jeans before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

“You, Mr. Cabot,” Sophie sing-songed as she peeled off her robe, “will just have to wait for later.”

* * * *

Lucien stared at the frozen image on his computer screen, aroused as hell just looking at the woman’s face, but growled as the laughter from the real thing lifted up to him through the open window in his study. He glared in the direction of the titillating yet innocent sound and then narrowed his stare even more at the shit-kicking smile on his assistant’s face.

Fucker knows he pushed my last button when he opened the window too
. “Are you planning to do any work this morning, asshole?” he asked Magnus. “Or are you going to waste my money and yours doing nothing but staring at a snowball fight?”

“Right now they’re making angels,” Magnus informed Lucien as he shot him the finger. “You should come take a look at them. I know you’re doing some stoic shit thing where you’re forcing yourself away from Sophie, but Owen is down there having a hell of a lot of fun too. I know you hear him laughing. Come see him, at least.” His hip resting on the windowsill, Magnus glanced back at Lucien, his pale eyes piercing in a way that nailed Lucien in the gut. “Don’t you want to be included in at least a small part of his pleasure?”

Guilt sat like acid in Lucien’s belly, working a hole through the lining in a way that would surely leave him with an ulcer. That same sensation pushed him out of his chair and to the window, but the steps didn’t come easy. Twin forces of insurmountable love and crushing pain consumed him whenever he looked at the boy.
Christ
. His hand went to his chest to control the constriction.
Why can’t anything be easy anymore?

As Lucien approached the window, Magnus pushed to one side, giving him space. Down below, in the large area behind the house, four adults and one child waved their arms and legs in repeated arcs through the snow, creating angel shapes in the white stuff. Other sets already existed on the other side of a pair of small snowmen, so this was clearly not their first attempt at the task.

Owen and Sophie lay head to head, and every time she swung her arms upward, she stamped her angel wings into his, and Owen laughed and warned her out of his space. Sophie teased and told Owen it meant their angels were holding hands, and that now he had to be her boyfriend and they would have to go to school dances together. Owen shouted “No way! Gross!” and shot to his feet. Before Lucien could shout a warning to Sophie from above, the boy swiped up a wad of snow and dumped it in Sophie’s face. Sophie lay there sputtering—for about a second. Then she jumped up with a ball of snow in her hand, shouted, “You’ll get a face full too, kid!” and chased after Owen, to the boy’s obvious giggling delight. Cale, Emma, and Jade hopped up as well and began shouting whose side they would be on as they made snowballs of their own.

Watching the scene, and in particular Sophie with Owen, Lucien unsuccessfully fought the smile pulling at his lips. The sight also twisted his heart with the deepest acute hurt. Sophie screamed as Owen got her in the face again, the sound infectious to Lucien in a much different, deeper, manner than the sexual desire she so easily tugged out of him. Lucien pulled away from the window, aching for a different picture with additional people, ones he knew could never be a part of his life again.

After walking carefully across the room, Lucien dropped back into his seat. “Let’s get back to work.”

Magnus remained standing at the window. “Why don’t you give yourself a break? Just for a little while.” Empathy darkened Magnus’s stare to deep violet. “Go down there and join in the fun.”

“She’s not here for fun.” Lucien momentarily squeezed his eyes shut as peals of Sophie’s laughter drifted into the study. “Neither am I.”

“Well, I’m taking a break,” Magnus declared as he moved across the study. “You stay here and scrooge it up all you want, but I’m going to go make a snowball and throw it at someone while we still have snow on the ground.” Pausing at the door, Magnus gripped the wood and studied Lucien with a hard stare. “Aside from relaxing for just a little while, you might also think about the inroads you could make with Sophie if you show her you know how to do more than glower.” He thumped the wood with his hand and said, “See you after lunch.”