Falling In (32 page)

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 embarrassed 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 pussy. “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 assumptions 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 trespassing 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 pussy 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 clit. His hands slid up to her chest. “And whose breasts?”

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

“And who owns that delectable little ass 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 ass. “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 ravishing 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. “Hello?”

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 shining 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 extinguishing 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

Fuck.

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 bitch,” he muttered and began chasing after the car.

“Parker? Your shift's not over,” Philippe shouted. No time to stop. He lost sight of the limo as it turned off of Gerard and onto Washington.

The sidewalks were clogged with pain in the ass, pokey pedestrians. His Patras hat flew off his head, but Parker didn't slow down to retrieve it. He bumped 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 assessment 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 glass.

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 glass 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.”

He snorted. “Doubtful. It was Lucian Patras who gave me the job, and he and I aren't on the best of terms.”

The other man cocked his head curiously. “Why offer a job to someone you aren't on good terms with? Well, regardless, I'm just as much your boss as he is. I'm his silent partner.”

Parker hadn't realized Patras was owned by partners. Before he could remark on his statement, Mr. Bishop asked, “What did you do to piss Lucian off? Usually he doesn't keep employees he doesn't like.”

“He didn't have a choice.” His answer came out a little too arrogant and he regretted the show of emotion.

Mr. Bishop laughed. “Really? I'd be very interested to hear how a doorman maneuvered Lucian Patras into an uncomfortable predicament. Lucian has a reputation of always coming out on top.”

“I made him a deal. He owes me. Half of our bargain was for a job. The other half's a little more valuable, but I'm not ready to collect on it.”

“And you trust Lucian to keep his word with this other valuable half of your deal?”

Parker nodded. “I do. A man like Lucian Patras doesn't get as far as he has unless his word's worth something.”

Mr. Bishop tapped his chin and eyed him peculiarly. “You seem rather sharp for a doorman.”

“Probably because I never intended to be one. I was already taking college-level courses when my father killed himself and we discovered the courts and banks owned everything we had and then some.”

“Impressive. That would've made you what? Seventeen at that time?”

“Fourteen.”

His brow shot to his hairline. “Fourteen and college-level courses? What the hell are you doing holding doors?”

“I wasn't in a position that made people eager to hire me.” He'd also been content until Patras had stolen Scout away. After that, the asshole owed him. “Mr. Patras did me a favor by giving me a job.”

“Some favor,” Mr. Bishop laughed. “The way you tell it, he didn't have a choice.”

The car continued to move, now out of traffic. Parker figured he was safe since this guy was also his boss. He relaxed a little. “He had a choice. He chose what was in his power to give me.” The man smirked and Parker continued, “And now he owes me.” He shrugged.

“And what does Lucian owe you?”

He pressed his lips tight.

Realizing Parker wasn't going to answer, he then asked, “Okay, how about what did you have that he wanted?”

He shrugged again. “It wasn't so much what I had as much as it was my knowledge of where something Mr. Patras wanted was hiding.”

“Scout,” the other man whispered and Parker stilled.

How the fuck did he know about Scout?

“Holy shit, that's it isn't it?” Mr. Bishop's eyes narrowed. “That's why you look familiar. You're from St. Christopher's.”

Knowing he'd blown his hand, Parker asked, “How do you know Scout?”

“Anyone associated with Lucian knows the woman who managed to wedge his head up his ass.”

“Excuse me?” He wasn't following.

“He thinks he's in love with her and hasn't been himself since she showed up.”

Parker's jaw popped. He hated thinking of Lucian Patras loving Scout. Nothing about Patras was right for her. Scout had an unhealthy obsession with money. She thought of it as security. Little did she know that the kind of money a man like Patras had wasn't the kind of security she was after. Money at that level was power, entitlement, ownership, and it always led to corruption.

Parker needed a little more time, and he'd secure a place to live and be able to provide food on the table and other necessities, and she'd see that kind of life was better than one of such extravagance, simpler. There was too much expectation when one dealt with real wealth, too much society and judgment. The public eye, once you were in it, never blinked.

He must have a terrible poker face, because the other man then said, “Ah, I'm beginning to understand why Lucian doesn't like you. You're a threat.”

Parker scoffed. “I'm hardly a threat to a man like Lucian Patras.”

“Don't underestimate yourself, Parker. You're someone from her past, a past a man like Lucian will never be able to relate to or wrap his brain around. You also happen to be a decent-looking man and I assume Scout's friend. You've been in my car now for what? Five? Ten minutes? Like me, Lucian's good at picking up on talent. I recognized you were more than a doorman two minutes after we met. Don't be naïve. Lucian knows exactly who your father was. Before Lucian Patras, there were two men who held equal or more power than him in Folsom. His father was one of them. The other one was yours.”

Parker scowled inwardly, hating any comparisons between himself and his father.

Mr. Bishop laughed and said almost to himself, “It was probably a relief to give you a job. It allows him to keep an eye on you.” He looked Parker in the face. “You say he owes you something else. What is it?”

Parker looked away, knowing this man could read him like a book.

“How about this,” Mr. Bishop offered. “Tell me what it is and if it's what I think it is, I'll give you a job that will get you to the top a lot faster than doorman or bellhop. I have a business that Lucian has no share in. I could offer you a position where you wear something a little more dignified than a blazer with your enemy's name on it. If you're as smart as you say, and have half of your father's aptitude for business, you could find yourself in a corner office before you know it. You said you need money. I'll start you out at triple what you're making at Patras,
if
your answer is what I think. What do you say? Sounds like a good deal to me. If it's not, I'll keep your secret quiet and you go on holding doors for us. What do you say, Mr. Hughes?”

“Why would you do that if Patras is your partner?”

Mr. Bishop hesitated, clearly debating what he should share. “There's been a falling out. We're approaching my next stop and I'm afraid my offer leaves with me. Better decide fast.”

Shit. He'd be crazy to turn down an offer like that, but there had to be a catch. The limo pulled over and Mr. Bishop stared at him impatiently.

“Fine,” Parker snapped. “It's Scout. He had to promise me a job and then, when I decide I'm ready, I call in his other IOU, a month with Scout in which the rich prick cannot interfere.”

The man's smile was almost reptilian, and Parker worried that he'd made a grave mistake in confiding in him. “Excellent,” he purred. “Meet me here, tomorrow morning at seven.” Mr. Bishop eyed him from head to toe. “I believe I have some older suits to start you off. I'll bring them with me in the morning and you can change then. My driver's yours for the next twenty minutes. He can take you back to Patras, or now that you have a better job, wherever you want.”

He opened the door and Parker gripped his arm. “Wait.”

Bishop narrowed his eyes at his hold on him, but Parker didn't let go.

“You seemed pleased when you found out Scout was the bargain. Why?”

“I have my reasons,” the man said.

He quickly considered the offer. Lucian had promised him a job, but specified that keeping it would be up to Parker. The other part of the deal, the part involving Scout, was contingent on two things: Parker being ready to call in his debt and doing so before Patras got a ring on her finger. He could take Bishop's offer and Patras would still owe him. There was only one concern. “I won't work for someone who wishes her harm,” Parker said, meaning every word.

“I wish the lovely Evelyn no harm. I only wish her out of my partner's life.”