Part 13 (1/2)
”Are we still in Folsom?”
”No.”
Panic filled her as they left the city she had never been outside of. She felt powerless as if she were being whisked away without choice. A sense of getting lost choked her as her world slipped farther and farther out of view, until the tall skysc.r.a.pers she'd grown up under were nothing more than specks along the horizon.
”Evelyn?”
She didn't want to turn away from the remaining view of the city, fearing if she lost sight of it she'd never find her way back home.
”Evelyn, what's the matter?”
”You didn't tell me we were leaving the city.”
”Does it matter? We'll be back by tonight.” His words only slightly rea.s.sured her. ”Come here.”
She jerked her gaze from the window and faced him. His papers were all neatly tucked away in a briefcase and he patted the s.p.a.ce beside him on the bench seat. Hesitantly, she looked back out the window one last time and moved to his side.
His fingers undid the b.u.t.tons of her coat and slid it off her shoulders. ”You're tense.” His thumbs pressed into the back of her neck and rubbed in firm, but gentle circles. Her shoulders slowly relaxed as he soothed the tension out of her muscles.
His touch moved up to her bun and tentatively turned the knot of hair.
”Take this out.”
Her fingers unraveled the rubber band and her hair uncoiled down her back.
”I prefer your hair down.”
Fingers sifted through the brunette strands, parting and separating the long locks over her shoulders. Her hair was different since she'd had it cut, softer, smoother at the ends. Lucian continued to play with her hair until he'd coaxed her into leaning into his shoulder. His fingertips delicately traced whorls over her collarbone. It was nice.
The music played and they fell into a much more welcome silence than how the ride had started out.
”I want you to spend the night with me tonight, Evelyn.”
She prided herself on hiding any physical reaction to his words. ”Okay.”
”I've thought about Vivian's cryptic warning and decided there's no use postponing the inevitable.” She silently agreed with him.
”I a.s.sume by your presence that you still consent to our agreement.”
”I won't back out,” she a.s.sured him.
”Good.”
They arrived at a tall iron gate that opened to a sprawling lawn. As the limousine eased slowly uphill, an enormous home came into view. It was pale yellow with rounded soffits and a terracotta roof. She moved to sit up a little straighter, and Lucian released the hold he'd kept on her for the majority of the drive.
”Is this somebody's house?”
”Yes. Mine.”
She looked back at him and found honesty in his gaze.
”Do you like it?” There was a hint of vulnerability in the question, nearly hidden, but making him seem more human, less G.o.dlike.
”It's the size of a hotel.”
”This one's all mine.”
They parked at the curve of a cul-de-sac outside a six-bay garage. It occurred to her that she never considered much of Lucian's life outside of the city, outside of Patras Hotel for that matter. She suddenly had a terrible thought.
”Lucian?” When he didn't hear her rasp she forced herself to speak a little louder. ”Lucian?”
He faced her.
”Do you have a family?”
His expression shuttered. ”I have sisters and a father.”
Scout relaxed, but needed to make completely sure. ”Have you ever been married?”
She could not do this if there was another woman. If she was the other woman.
”There's no one else, Evelyn. I've been single for quite some time.”
It was obvious by his tone and the set of his features no other questions were welcomed. He climbed out of the car the moment Dugan opened the door. She breathed a sigh of relief. After a few deep breaths, she followed.
They walked up to a set of Gothic French doors that opened before they crossed the top step. A young woman, wearing the same dove gray gown that housekeeping wore at the hotel, held the heavy wooden door as they stepped through.
”Good morning, Mr. Patras.”
Lucian removed Scout's coat and heaped the heavy wool into the maid's arms. ”Good morning, Lucy. Have my guests arrived?”
”They're in the library, sir. Breakfast will be served in the dining room. Would you like me to escort your guests there?”
He undid the large b.u.t.tons of his coat. ”That won't be necessary. Please send coffee to the library. We'll eat in a bit. Come on, Evelyn.”
Scout still held her apple wrapped in a napkin. She looked down and at the maid. She couldn't ask her to take her half-eaten apple core. Holding it low by her hip, she hoped no one would notice and followed Lucian, keeping her eyes peeled for a trash can.
The house was like a museum. Every step echoed and she was very aware of her prattling steps in the wake of his much surer paces. There was a long winding staircase made of white marble, and shutters on the inside of the windows that lined the upper floor. It was like a courtyard, but inside. Vines and bright botanical plants filled corners, and mosaic vases topped random side tables.
They approached a set of pocket doors, and masculine voices boomed as Lucian slid them apart.
”Gentlemen.”
”Ah, here he is. Lucian, I was just telling Slade how I took you to the bank on the course the other day,” a man with startling green eyes, golden curls, and rosy skin announced.
His gaze fell on Scout and she looked down.
”My, my, who's this?” He stepped in front of her and offered his hand. ”Shamus Callahan. My friends call me James or Jamie.”
That was a mouthful. She took his proffered hand. ”Nice to meet you. I'm Scout.”