The Surrender: Falling In Part 20

She mouthed a silent oh.

"This must be quite different from Saint Christopher's."

Nothing like making an uncomfortable situation worse.

Scout decided then and there that Slade was a d.i.c.k, and he wasn't going to intimidate her. "How is it you know Lucian?"

"We're partners," he said and offered no other explanation. Did Slade own part of Patras? Lucian had said he had sisters, but mentioned nothing of a brother. Was Slade a distant cousin or somehow a member of the Patras family? Perhaps by marriage. She looked at his hand. No ring.

"How long do you plan on being Lucian's . . . guest?"

She was distracted from her thoughts by his question. He said "guest" as if he were subst.i.tuting it for a much more derogatory word.

"Um, we didn't really discuss a time period. I suppose as long as we enjoy each other or until we no longer do."

"No doubt you'll be enjoying the lap of luxury for a long time. Money does have a way of broadening one's tolerance."

Scout glowered at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just pointing out that the appeal's tipped in your favor. Where will you go once Lucian's done with you? It's a long way back to the dirty floor of a shelter from the top."

She was speechless. Eventually, she said the only thing she was sure of. "You don't like me."

"No. I don't." There was no hesitating about his confession.

The door opened and Lucian walked in. He was speaking on his cell phone and nodded in acknowledgement at Slade, then leaned down to kiss her temple. Slade relented with the stink eye and she took the opportunity to slip into the back room. She couldn't expect everyone to approve of her, especially when, like Slade, they discovered where she had come from.

Scout found the remote control on the table and turned on the television. TV was something she had rarely enjoyed. She couldn't find the show about Gilligan, so she put on cartoons. The cat chased the mouse and the mouse always got away. She settled onto the bed and watched, thoroughly entertained.

Laughter bubbled past her lips when the mouse caught the cat on fire. She wanted to catch Slade on fire. Smirking, she imagined him, in his tailored suit and fancy shoes, hopping around like the cat on the television as his devil tail smoked. She grinned evilly.

After the cartoon with the cat and mouse, a new skit with a roadrunner came on. This one was more frustrating than entertaining. Lucian knocked on the door and she quickly shut off the television.

He smiled and looked at the blank screen. "What were you watching? I heard you laughing."

"Oh. Nothing." Scout moved to the edge of the bed and adjusted her skirt, the move distracting Lucian's gaze.

"Slade's invited us to dinner."

After her initial shock, she deflated. She'd missed Lucian all day and now that he was home she wouldn't be able to enjoy him. He was different around other people. Even when they'd visited his house and Slade left, he wasn't the same as he was when they were alone. Jamie was his oldest friend and she could even see a difference in Lucian in his presence.

"Do you not want to go?"

She could tell he wanted her to go. "No, of course I'll go. I just want to change."

He stepped close to her, his front pressing into hers as he ran a finger under the low-hung neck of her sweater.

"I like what you're wearing," he whispered.

Scout thought he would kiss her, wanted him to. With the high heels of her boots, she could almost reach his mouth. Pus.h.i.+ng onto the toes of her feet, she leaned further into him. Her palms glided up his chest and over his shoulders and he gently circled her wrists with his fingers and stepped away.

"Slade's waiting."

When he left, she sulked, not understanding why he no longer seemed attracted to her. It wasn't fair, because she was growing more attracted to him by the hour.

Thinking about the night he took her virginity, she decided part of her adverse reaction was due to fear and ignorance. She didn't think it would hurt as much the second time, now that she'd already had him inside of her. But she was beginning to think she might never find out. Lucian seemed determined not to touch her.

They took the limo to a tiny, dimly lit French restaurant called The Speakeasy. Scout was silent on the drive over and sensed Slade judging her a little more with every mile. Lucian seemed oblivious to his friend's distaste with his choice in "company."

Since the menus were in French, Lucian declared that he would order for her. She didn't tell him that the language was irrelevant.

"Perhaps Evelyn would care to try some escargot," Slade said.

Lucian narrowed his eyes and ignored his friend's comment. When Slade called her by her real name he did so with theatric snootiness. She didn't know what was worse, the way he said Evelyn or the disapproving way he spoke when he called her Scout.

Being a glutton for punishment, she asked, "What's escargot?"

"It's a delicacy," Slade said with a reptilian smile. "You should try it."

She looked at Lucian, who was reading the menu. "Snails," he said without looking up, sensing her question.

Her lip curled and she glared at Slade. He chuckled and perused his menu. "It does require a more sophisticated taste," he grumbled under his breath snidely.

Did he think she was unaware of the difference in their backgrounds? She figured it was time to put an end to the cryptic jousting.

"You know, where I come from, if you ate bugs you're considered crazy, but you rich folk pretty it up with some fancy French name and feel superior. Seems, since I'm the one who's never been dumb enough to eat a snail, the sophistication rests on my side of the table."

Lucian chuckled and she smiled at him. With mirth in his eyes he turned to his friend. "Don't be a prig, Slade. She'll make you regret it."

Slade's color rose from warm caramel to the color of fresh maple syrup. He gave up his campaign to make her feel like a fool for the time being and she tried to enjoy as much of the meal as possible.

Lucian ordered lamb with a delicious mint jelly. There were baby carrots in some sort of glaze and tiny roasted potatoes. A person at a nearby table ordered snails and Slade looked at the dish longingly. She enjoyed thinking that it might've been her snappy comeback that made him too apprehensive to order the dish.

Scout one. Slade zero. Suck it, a.s.shole.

Rather than take the limo back to Patras with them, Slade hailed a cab and headed home. Lucian pulled her to his side as they rode back. "Your friend doesn't like me."

"That's not true," Lucian said, holding her fingers in his where his arm draped over her shoulder.

"Yes it is. He told me."

Her fingers dropped.

"Slade told you he didn't like you?"

"Yup."

His eyes moved as if he were thinking. "Well, he's full of s.h.i.+t."

"Lucian, it's okay. I don't expect all of your friends to like me. Parker doesn't like you."

"That's different. I understand why Parker doesn't like me. Slade has no reason-"

She faced him. "Why does Parker not like you?"

Taking a moment to process her interruption, he frowned. "Because he's in love with you."

Her smile faltered. "Wha-Parker's not in love with me."

He stared at her for a long time. No words. It seemed everything he needed to say was in that meaningful look.

Scout was still reeling from Lucian's comment when they returned to the penthouse. She went to the bedroom and pulled out a nightgown and began removing her clothes.

Lucian came in quietly behind her and undid the clasp at the back of her bra. Moonlight formed puddles of blue on the floor around them. She turned slowly in his arms and faced him. His knuckles caressed the side of her breast and he watched as her skin drew taut. He gently stroked the side of her other breast.

Scout's chest rose and fell slowly with each breath. He reached down and took the gown out of her hands and slipped it over her shoulders. Not knowing what else to do, she docilely let him pull her arms through the straps and waited. He kissed the corner of her mouth and stepped back.

"I have some work to finish up."

She tried to hide her hurt, but she was really beginning to develop a complex. Nodding slowly, she climbed into bed. She didn't hear Lucian come to bed that night.

When she awoke next it was morning. Masculine voices from the other room mixed with the scent of coffee. After using the bathroom and brus.h.i.+ng her teeth, she slipped a bulky Patras robe around her and knotted the front. The thick fabric engulfed her. The robe formed a train as she crept into the hall hoping to sneak discreetly into the guest room where her clothes were.

"Evelyn." She stilled. Lucian came around the corner and kissed her hair. "Did you sleep well? Come and have breakfast."

He took her hand, the billowy sleeve falling over their clasped embrace, and led her to the common area of the suite. Great. Slade was there.

Lucian gestured for her to sit at the couch and placed a dish in front of her. He lifted the top and there were two sunny-side eggs and a fat slice of French toast topped with strawberries.

Lucian's eyes creased with mirth. "Since the French toast is already rich, I figured you might want to skip the chocolate sauce this morning."

Confused, she glanced up at him. He smiled and placed an ice cream sundae next to her plate, sans the hot fudge. She blushed and he chuckled.

He left her side to return to his business with Slade. They made a conference call while she ate and listened, not really paying attention to what was being said. Once finished eating, she was stuffed. Slade nonchalantly tossed a newspaper on the table and her gaze immediately focused on the large picture on the page folded to the front.

It was Lucian, smiling, holding a gorgeous woman in his arms. The woman was smiling up at him, her dark hair a billowy cloud behind her curvaceous body, her dark eyes staring into Lucian's smiling face adoringly. Scout's delicious breakfast settled into the pit of her stomach like acid.

She couldn't tear her eyes from the picture. He wore the pinstripe suit she recalled from the other day when he had "brunch." This was a recent photo. Memories of asking him how his meeting had gone and the starry gleam that filled his eyes took on a whole new meaning. He said it went good . . . really good.

Scout's teeth clamped together and she breathed hard through her nose as she glared at the paper. Not wanting to draw attention to the issue she was having, she laced her fingers together and held still so she didn't accidentally shred the image and throw it across the room.

The conference call ended and Lucian excused himself to use the restroom. Slade settled in the chair across from her triumphantly.

"She's quite breathtaking, isn't she?"

Scout glared at him, refusing to be baited.

"Lucian cares very much for Isadora. Have you met her yet?"

Have I met her? No, she hadn't met her! Her limbs began to tremble. Lucian was right. Slade didn't dislike her. It was way more than that. He hated her.

Lucian came back into the room and stopped, noticing her upset.

"Evelyn?" He looked accusingly at Slade. "What's the matter?"

Scout stood up, kicked her robe around her ankles, and marched into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She barely had time to cool her temper when the door opened. Without a word, Lucian stormed up to her and swept her up and over his shoulder.

"Put me down!"

"Hush."

His hand swatted her a.s.s, leaving her momentarily speechless. He marched her back into the common area and plopped her unceremoniously on the couch. She gave him her fiercest glare and refused to look at Slade the snake.

"Tell her," Lucian growled the command at his friend.

Not seeing the point in all this, she turned to Slade. He sighed and said, "Isadora is Lucian's sister."

The relief that swept through Scout was immeasurable. She may have actually moaned.

"It seems my friend here," Lucian began dryly, "needs to work on being a bit more unambiguous with his words. People seem to keep misinterpreting his meanings."

Slade's jaw ticked. "My apologies, Ms. Keats. I've forgotten my manners. It won't happen again." He was doing the Gilligan's Island rich person teeth-talking thing.

The apology was forced and she didn't believe one word of it was genuine. Scout wasn't sure how to react to such insincerity. There was a long, awkward moment of silence. Finally, Slade said something about making the next call but Lucian interrupted. "We're done here."

Stymied, Slade said, "Lucian, we have to-"

"I said we're done."

Realizing Lucian wasn't going to budge, Slade stood irritably and gathered his things. Once he had everything back in his briefcase, he turned to his partner. "You need to remember who you are and stop trying to be someone else."

"And you need to remember it's my name on the door," Lucian retorted, eyeing the other man intensely.

Slade turned. "Ms. Keats." He nodded and left in a huff that ended with a sharp click of the door.

She faced Lucian. He wouldn't look at her. "I'm sorry about that. Slade is . . . he doesn't deal with change well."

Scout stood, wanting to hit the reset b.u.t.ton on the entire morning. "I'm going to take a shower." Nothing else was said.

Chapter 24.

Too many sunrises . . .