The Surrender: Falling In Part 32

She appreciated the practicality of the gift. When the time came, a new bag would come in handy. She tried not to overa.n.a.lyze the fact that Lucian had just given her a gift that would only be used if they separated.

"Thank you."

"Here, do this one next." He seemed to enjoy giving the gifts as much as a little kid opening them.

The next was a gorgeous sweater, after that, a pair of sapphire earrings. She didn't mention that her ears weren't pierced. They were as lovely in their velvet box as they would be on her lobes.

The morning continued in the same pattern. She'd open a gift, thank Lucian, and then she'd find another in her lap. She simply couldn't comprehend such generosity and indulgence. The pile never seemed to end. She'd been given clothes, gowns, shoes, jewelry, an iPad, perfume, expensive soaps and lotions, a robe, and more. It became so overwhelming, she lost track.

She peeled back the paper of a heavy box and lifted the lid. Books. Her smile trembled nervously and Lucian said, "It's Henry David Th.o.r.eau. Walden is by far one of the most eloquently written pieces of literature I've ever read. I think you'll like it."

It was simply too much. Her eyes stung and she blinked. "Oh, Lucian . . ."

"What's the matter? Have you read it?"

Emotion choked her. She worked to make her voice audible. "No," she whispered. "I've never read it."

He pulled it from her lap and placed a thinly wrapped package in her lap. "Open this one."

Her fingers trembled. She didn't want to open any more presents. As the corner tore and the pretty paper was spoiled, she stopped. She just couldn't do anymore.

"Evelyn?"

Lifting her brow, she looked at Lucian apologetically. "Can we stop for a while?"

She saw his confusion, but he nodded. "Okay, baby. How about I make us some breakfast?" She nodded, needing to get away from all the gifts for a while.

Lucian made French toast for breakfast. It was delicious. She loved watching him cook. He seemed so relaxed, so ordinary. She found herself wis.h.i.+ng he were.

"What time will your sisters get here?"

He glanced at the clock. "Probably sometime in the next two hours."

A nervous tickle danced across her chest. "Should we be cooking something?"

"The turkey's been in the oven since five. Isadora will bring the sides, and Antoinette will bring the desserts. I provide the booze, and Lucy dressed the formal dining room before she left."

"What should I wear?"

"Wear whatever you're comfortable in. It's just family."

Yes, but not her family. Evelyn thought about Pearl and wondered how she was enjoying her holiday. So much time had gone by since she spoke to her. She'd never been away from her mother for more than a few days. "Lucian, can I call my mom?"

He stilled as if he hadn't considered Pearl. "Of course. I'm sorry, Evelyn. I should've let you do that first thing. If you want, we can go see her before my sisters arrive."

She shook her head. "No. I don't think I'm up for that. I just want to call and wish her a merry Christmas."

He handed her a phone and a business card with a number hand written on the back. He busied himself with the dishes as she made the call. Pearl sounded . . . anxious.

She was very curious about how long she'd stay at rehab and when Evelyn was coming to visit. Evelyn promised they'd come in the next couple of days, and in a paranoid whisper Pearl asked if she could come alone. She figured that would be okay, so she said yes. Her mother admitted she was very tired and they ended the call.

That was the first time she had ever talked to her mother on a phone. It was impersonal and distant. Evelyn didn't like not being able to see her face. She thought hearing her voice would help her awkward mood, but it didn't. She felt . . . lost.

Everything was unfamiliar. Even Lucian wasn't being his usual self. He was doing dishes for Christ's sake! She excused herself to go take a shower, thinking that might help.

After her shower she selected a burgundy sweater dress paired with black tights and spiked black leather boots that went to the knee. She wore her hair down, not because Lucian preferred it that way, but because it acted as a s.h.i.+eld. With every minute that ticked by she grew more and more nervous.

Lucian entered the room and eyed her curiously. She had been sitting on the edge of the bed staring at nothing for the past twenty minutes.

"Evelyn?"

"Hey."

"Baby, what's wrong?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. The best way I can explain it is . . . I feel . . . homesick. I know that doesn't make sense because I don't have a home, but that's the best way I can put it."

He sat next to her and pulled her close. "You have a home, Evelyn, with me. I'm sorry if I went a little overboard on your gifts. I just wanted to spoil you."

"It's so much, Lucian. I don't even know how to use half that stuff. And the books . . ."

"I'm sorry about the books. I should've gotten you something more girlie. I just figured since I liked them . . ."

Without warning, a sob hiccupped from her chest.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Evelyn, please don't cry. I'll take them all back."

Shutting her eyes, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. Forcing a deep breath she stood and went to the top drawer of the dresser. She removed the notes from the morning and the one that had been attached to the rose. Evelyn handed them to him and he frowned.

"Read them," she asked.

"What?"

"Read them. Please."

For the first time ever, Lucian looked unsure. He glanced at the first note. His voice was a thin thread of what it normally sounded like. "I love the sound of my name when it crosses your lips. It is the sweetest whisper my ears have ever been sung."

He looked at her and she pointed to the next one.

He read, "On the days that I cannot hear your heart beating beside mine, you're too far away and I want nothing more than to go to you and hold you close, and never let go." He began breathing heavily. He frowned at the notes and his fingers tightened over the delicate parchment.

"And this one," she whispered.

He read this one a little faster. "I feel as though you sip from my soul every time our lips touch and when you look at me as I'm deep inside of you, you breathe life back into me, and I know, before you, everything was only an imitation of what living truly is."

Her heart pinched and her stomach rolled with too much emotion to keep inside.

Lucian suddenly stood. "What is this, Evelyn?" he barked. "I'm not a writer. If you don't like them, throw them away." His fists closed over the papers, crumpling them into a ball.

"No!" She jumped to her feet and grabbed his fist. As she tried to unknot his fingers he scoffed and let them all flutter to the floor. She chased them down to the carpet and quickly uncurled them.

Lucian threw his fingers into his hair and turned. "I don't get you, Evelyn. I thought today would be perfect, but every time I look at you you're more upset than you were the moment before. I can't win for losing!"

He stormed toward the door and she panicked. "Lucian, wait!"

He stopped but didn't turn around. His shoulders heaved slowly with irritation. She hadn't meant to embarra.s.s him.

Her voice was watery and breathless. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so emotional today. I'm just overwhelmed. You have to understand, before today, Christmas just meant ham instead of stew at the shelter and hot chocolate for dessert instead of going without. I've never been given gifts before I met you and your overindulgence is at times more than I can comprehend."

"I'll send them all back." He was hurt and that was her fault.

"No, Lucian, you don't have to do that. I just want you to know, all of those gifts down there don't mean a fraction of what this means to me," she said holding up his love notes.

His eyes narrowed. "Then why did you make me read them like that? You made me feel like-"

"Because I can't read them."

"What?"

She stared up at him, so tall and powerful. His image s.h.i.+mmered behind the wall of tears covering her eyes. "I don't know how to read."

It took a minute for her words to sink in. His expression softened and he blinked at her.

"Evelyn . . ." he rasped. "I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to think I was stupid."

He lowered himself to the floor. "I could never think that." His hands gently turned her face and kissed her tear-streaked cheeks.

A watery laugh bubbled from her. "Bet you believe me now when I tell you I wasn't snooping at your desk the day we met."

He didn't laugh. His strong arms wrapped around her and he rocked her. His warm lips pressed into her temple as he whispered over her skin, "I'll teach you to read, Evelyn. I'll teach you anything you're interested in learning. I never want you to feel like you're less because you can't do something. Anything you want to learn, I'll teach you. Even without those skills, you're so much more than anyone else in this world."

He held her for a long while, there on the floor. She asked him to read the rest of the notes and he did. By the time they were heading back downstairs, hand in hand, to welcome his sisters, she was sure of four things. One, she'd finally learn to read. Two, Lucian loved her very much. Three, she loved him more. And four, this would end very badly and her heart would likely never beat right again.

Chapter 41.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . .

Lucian's sisters hung around for two days. Isadora stayed at the house, but Antoinette returned home each night after Lucian declared that there was no way she and her boyfriend Peter were sharing a bed under his roof. On the last day they were there, Jamie showed up. Jamie wasn't his jovial self around Lucian's younger sister. He studied her with an intensity much like the way Lucian watched her. Evelyn observed them with interest. So did Peter, yet he seemed a little insecure about what everyone saw between Toni and Jamie.

Isadora was even more beautiful in person than she was in the picture Evelyn had seen. While Antoinette was a fiery ball of energy in a package of curves and dimples, Isadora was a willowy, elfin creature with skin as silky as rose petals and eyes as dark as sin. She definitely seemed the matriarch of the siblings, and it was interesting watching her tease Lucian the way no one else could.

Although they were probably one of the wealthiest families in the world, an outsider would never be able to tell by their easy manner. Evelyn's nervousness disappeared the moment Isadora grasped her in a tight hug and welcomed her to the family. She failed to inform her that her greeting was a bit presumptuous and found herself falling into a cozy little world of make-believe.

The day after Christmas, she visited Pearl. Her mother still looked quite ill. She was lethargic and quiet and barely sat up when Evelyn knocked on her door. Evelyn gave her one of the sweaters Lucian had given her for Christmas, but Pearl didn't acknowledge the gift. Her blinking eyes stared into nothingness as Evelyn made small talk.

The hollow welcome left her cold and heartsick. When they returned to the estate, greeted again by Lucian's sister, it was a welcome distraction. Perhaps with time, her mother would forgive her.

Evelyn was sad to see Lucian's family go, but also anxious to have Lucian back all to herself. As he closed the door behind them, he smiled at her. They had made love tenderly and quietly over the past few days. It was nice, but she missed the intensity they usually shared.

He faced her after locking the door behind his sisters. "I want you to go upstairs, remove your clothing and wait for me on the bed." She s.h.i.+vered and quickly moved to do as he instructed.

Lucian entered the room a short time later, carrying three small gifts in his hand. She inwardly groaned at the thought of more presents.

"Open this," he instructed as he placed a gift on the bed.

She did. "It's a blindfold."

"Correct. Now open the other two."

The second package jangled when she shook it. After unwrapping the paper, she lifted the lid and found two leather cuffs attached by a long chain. She swallowed.

"And the last," he instructed.

She peeled back the paper carefully and found a bottle of liquid. She looked at the label. "What is it?"

"Oil."

Evelyn knew what the oil was for immediately and her heart quickened as blood rushed to her cheeks.

"You have several more gifts like this downstairs," he said. "Each night I'll give you three to open and you'll choose which one we'll use. Choose now, Evelyn."

Her fingers traced over the soft leather of the cuffs and the soft satin of the eye mask. She picked up the oil and looked at him.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Tell me your safe word."

"Checkmate."

"Lie back."

Her legs uncurled from beneath her and the soft bedding pressed into her back. She heard the whisper of Lucian removing his clothes.

"Spread your legs for me," he said.

He still remained off the bed. She looked up at the chandelier hanging above her and drew her knees apart.

"Open yourself so I can see you."