Lucien (14 page)

Elise stopped next to the backseat door and looked up at him. “But I’m not married to them.”

Luc rested his hand on the door handle. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t forget it.”

“I’m not likely to, Lucien. As I told you, I’m old-fashioned.”

“Well, darlin’, I’m a little old-fashioned myself.” He opened the door for her and waited for her to climb inside the vehicle.

Elise sat down and paused. “I’m glad you feel that way, too. After your comment on Bingley’s secretary, I was beginning to wonder.” She pulled her legs inside and waited for him to close the door.

Luc ignored the curious stare of his friend and braced a hand on the roof, leaning in toward her. “When we get back from lunch, wife, you and I are going to have a long talk about that little statement.”

“I look forward to it, husband.”

Luc grunted. “I’ll bet you do.” He closed the door, then moved to the front passenger side door. After lunch, he and Elise would have words about more than her comment. He intended to make her admit that she wanted him as much as he did her.

Because living with her presence everywhere but his bed was killing him.

Elise cringed as Daniel Bingley, Sr. laughed. Again. The man laughed at everything and nothing. It was loud and obnoxious and grated on her nerves. Not only that, but the way his beady eyes looked a woman—any woman—up and down like she would be his dessert irritated the living daylights out of her. And she had to sit next to him. If he brushed his hand against her thigh one more time, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

"Now that is a fine pair of—"

Elise cleared her throat loudly, interrupting Bingley and earning herself a frowning glance from her husband. “Pardon me.”

She slid to the edge of her seat to give Bingley the personal space he obviously needed, but it didn’t help. His body seemed to slither into her domain and, she shuddered, touch her.

The rest of the world appeared oblivious to her plight. Her husband was absorbed in skimming a contract Bingley had produced during the main course. And Ben was reading it over Luc’s shoulder. Too bad her legs weren’t long enough to kick them both under the table.

"Okay, you can turn the page," Ben murmured and Luc flipped to the next page of the contract.

Whatever Elise had been expecting when she’d met Benajah Raine, it certainly wasn’t what she’d encountered. Ben was tall, with jet black hair. His eyes were a golden brown which glowed when he smiled. When she’d asked him about his first name, Ben had laughed and said that his mother stumbled across it when researching the family tree. He’d gone on to say that he’d been grateful his mother hadn’t named him Beauregard or Remington—apparently, every other male in his family was named Beau or Remmey. Personally, she liked his name. It was as unusual as he was. He had thanked her when she’d told him her opinion and smiled at her in a way which had set Luc’s teeth to grinding.

Jealousy
, Elise sighed inwardly. Her husband was a fool if he thought she wanted anyone but him. Oh sure, Ben possessed the same self-sure, arrogance Luc did, but Lucien Masters had a magnetism that constantly drew her eyes to him. Ben was an attractive man, but she wasn’t the least bit interested in pursuing anything but a friendship with him. If only Elise could get Luc to understand that his wife wasn’t interested in any man but her husband. He should know it by now. She’d married him. If Elise hadn’t been half-way in love with Luc and loosened up by one and a half whiskey sours, she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him. Well, not right away. She would have made him wait a day or two. Maybe.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm. Lookie at that piece of—"

Elise coughed and clanged her silverware against the plate, eliciting a chuckle from Bingley and an annoyed look from Luc.

"Something in my throat," she murmured, rolling her eyes with fake repentance, then lowered her head to stare at her half eaten turkey club.

As far as Elise was concerned, she’d gotten the deal of the century. She was married to a successful man with a smile that could melt her in two seconds flat. His family had thrown together a wedding which had turned out more spectacular than her fairy tale dream ever could have produced. Luc had looked magnificent in his tux and the way he’d watched her walk down the aisle in the most beautiful dress ever created… was enough to make Elise grin for the rest of her life. The first part of her fairy tale had come true, but the second half wasn’t coming along as well as she’d hoped.

Well
, she thought,
I hope he’s as frustrated as I am
. Living in the same house with the man was driving her crazy. Just this morning he’d had the nerve to walk out of his room without his shirt. Good grief, she’d nearly fainted. Gripping the wall hard, Elise had summoned an ungodly amount of willpower and wrenched her eyes from the solid planes of his chiseled abdomen and sculpted chest. Where in the world did Luc find the time to keep himself in that kind of shape?

“It’s probably genetic,” she muttered to herself.

“Eh, what did you say, sweetheart?” Bingley the oaf leaned in towards her.

“Oh, nothing. I was just commenting on…,” Elise trailed off as a passing female captured Bingley’s attention. She gratefully submersed herself in draining her glass of water.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm, good,” Bingley grunted out.

Elise rolled her eyes. Again. The man was a lecherous old coot. And his son wasn’t much better. Bingley Junior had eyes which roamed and hands that were always in motion. Elise hadn’t told Luc about the encounter with Junior in the mailroom. And she didn’t plan to. Junior hadn’t done anything but stare at her like a hungry wolf. She was a grown girl. She could handle an idiot like Bingley Junior. If she couldn’t do it with words, then she had a fail-safe backup. Elise seriously doubted wearing a cup would be enough protection against a sharp knee to the groin.

“Well, well, well,” Bingley Senior intoned. Why did he always have to repeat words three times? “I was wonderin’ where you’d gotten off to, son. Pull up a chair and help me keep this pretty, little lady company.”

Elise looked up and came face to face with the same look she’d left in the mailroom. Damnation.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Junior replied, pulling a chair from a table behind them. He slid it close to Elise and eased himself down.

Elise cringed and would have gladly killed Luc and Ben. They were engrossed in the contract and talking quietly amongst themselves. Damnation.

Junior braced his hand on the back of Elise’s chair and turned in his seat, “I would have been here sooner but I had a… an appointment to keep.” His thumb brushed across her back.

Elise bent forward and leaned over her water. She opened her mouth to tell Lucien that they had to leave. She would come up with a reason later, but they had to leave.
Now
.

Papa oaf’s leg shifted bumping up against her knee. “What appointment?”

She felt like a bone being fought over by two ravenous beasts.

The waiter paused by the table and, prying her glass out of her hand, refilled her water.

“Can I have a straw please,” she begged. Sucking down her drink would be easier with a straw than lifting the glass and leaning back towards Junior’s itchy hands—plus, she could chew the straw to death instead of her tongue. The waiter dropped the straw on the table before her and she shredded the paper, then shoved it into the glass.

Junior cleared his throat and pressed his leg against hers. She nearly screamed. “There was a… cat I had to see. I’m thinking about adopting it.”

“A tabby?” A rough hand gripped her knee and squeezed.

Elise shrieked and instinctively drove her elbow back into Bingley Senior’s gut. “Lucien,” she hissed.

“Yes, darlin’,” her husband answered absently.

“You said to remind you about that call you’re expecting.”

“Which call?”

Ben glanced up at her and, to her relief, realized her plight. He nudged Luc. “Uh, yeah. You remember. The call.”

“Yes, Lucien. Wyndemere will have your head if you aren’t home to answer the phone.”

“Wyndemere,” Luc repeated, lifting his head. His confused expression mutated into a thunderous one. Bingley Junior retracted his leg immediately, but his father lingered a moment longer.

Ben cleared his throat diplomatically and pushed back his chair. “I’ll, uh, just go take care of the bill.”  

“You can’t do it without me,” Elise murmured, shoving back her chair and rising. “I need a copy of the receipt for the records.”

Luc was at her side before she knew it and his fingers wrapped around her arm. “Gentlemen,” he said coldly.

Elise latched onto his arm. “We better hurry, darling. You know how Wyndemere is about punctuality.”

“Who is this Wyndemere character,” Bingley Senior demanded.

Elise did some quick thinking and decided to take a page out of her brother’s book, using her father’s reputation as a weapon. “Jeffrey Wyndemere, you know, the novelist. There’s a possibility that he might use Luc as the model for one of his characters.” She felt Luc tense next to her. Whether it was from the embellishment or the leer in Junior’s eyes, she didn’t have a clue and didn’t really care. “Darling, we better run. It was a lovely lunch and all. Bye.” She dragged Luc away from the table.

“Elise,” Luc growled when they neared the exit. “I thought we had agreed no more of that.”

“Luc, I was preventing a scene, not creating one. Besides, I merely said there was a possibility of Dad using you in one of his stories.”

He held the door for her and pushed her through it. “The way I feel now, there is more than a possibility. Where is Ben?”

“He’s probably getting the car,” she murmured.

Luc turned her around to face him. “What the hell was going on back there?”

“Don’t yell at me,” she snapped. “You’re not the one who had to sit next to Hands Bingley and—”

Luc’s eyes narrowed into slits. “He put his hands on you? Where?”

Elise told him and he turned on his heel, heading for the door. “Lucien,” she called, grabbing his arm. He tried to shake her off. “I am not letting you go back in there. It’s over with and—”

He brought them nose to nose and snarled, “Let go, Elise.”

She winced under the intensity of his Lucifer look. “I’m not letting go,” she said stubbornly. “You can beat them up after you and Ben buy the company, but not before. Please, Luc. Let’s just get in the car and leave.”

He scowled at her for a long, tension filled moment. “If they bother you again, I want to know about it. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now get in the damn car before I change my mind.”

“You have a very attractive wife.”

Luc looked up from the figures he’d been staring at. “Yes, I do.”

Ben propped his feet up on the conference table and flipped over a page he was perusing. “Very intelligent.”

“Yes, she is.” What the hell was Ben getting at?

“She found all of the files we needed.”

Luc sighed. “Out with it, Ben.”

Ben glanced up. “I was just thinking how efficient and competent she is. That’s all.”