Chapter 43

She jerked her wrist out of his grip and shuffled away from the table, standing a safe distance away. “I’m not scared!”

He watched her fan herself as she avoided his gaze and frowned. A bad feeling was slowly creeping into him. What exactly was wrong with her?

He hadn’t moved, studying her face as best as he could, considering that her hair was partially covering it now.

“You’re not?” he questioned.

“Of course not.”

His eyes narrowed. “You heard something. What did you hear about me? You’ve been acting different since you started having lunch at the cafeteria.”

She blinked. “What? I… didn’t hear anything about you.”

“Don’t lie to me. What did they tell you? I’m a murderer?”

She stared at him, her eyes widening. He really knew about the rumours?

He scoffed. “And now you’re acting like you’re in danger around me. What? You’re scared I’ll kill you?”

She said nothing, staring at him.

Standing, Lucien released a long exhale as he slowly made his way around the table. His gaze never left hers.

Kendall wanted to run, but for some reason she couldn’t. Too soon, he was there, crowding her. She moved back but was immediately stopped by the armchair behind her.

He stopped walking but then leaned over at the hips to bring his face directly before hers. She shrank away, forced to stare directly into his eyes in a way she’d always been convinced would instantly kill her.

It didn’t kill her, but it did paralyse her sense until she had no control over her own expression. He’d never been this close before. She could see the tiny black streaks in his charcoal grey eyes, could see every single one of his long, black lashes. God, this was electrifying.

“You think I’m a killer?” he murmured.

His voice rumbled out of his throat and sent chills straight down her spine. Lucien completely misinterpreted the tremble.

“You disappointed? Hm? How did it feel to find out that the man you look up to is a murderer?” he asked, clenching his jaw.

She swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

He frowned. “What? Isn’t that what you believe? Do you have any idea how scared you look—”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

At this point, she was leaning away over the armchair, but he was still right in her face. To anyone looking, she did look scared.

“And I didn’t hear anything about you,” she lied.

Scoffing, he finally straightened and glanced up at the ceiling. Kendall finally drew breath. His cologne was a killer, it literally made her mouth water.

“So, explain your behaviour then,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Because I won’t have you treat me like some psychopath. You’ve spent countless nights in my house, I could’ve killed you already if I wanted.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she bravely said. “But it has nothing to do with my behaviour.”

“What is it then? What makes you avoid me and flinch when I come near? What, if not fear?”

“I’ve got the flu.”

Her words were soft but firm, leaving no room for doubt.

He stared at her. Kendall stared back.

Lucien blinked. “What?”

“I’ve got the flu,” she repeated. “I can’t let you get infected, so I was trying to keep my distance. That also explains the blush, I have a fever—”

His hand flew across the space between them, covering her forehead. Kendall stiffened, letting her eyes fall closed.

He moved his hand to her neck, pressing the back of his fingers to her skin like a dad caring for his child.

Frowning, he carefully assessed her temperature. Something other than her warmth stole his attention, though. The quickening of her pulse. “You are... pretty warm.”

She gently pushed his hand away. “Uhm… you’ll get sick, you should move away from me—”

“You’ve had a hundred bouts of flu around me, I never died, Kendall.” She lowered her gaze, and he sighed. “So, that’s what it was? You’re sick and don’t want to pass it on?”

“You’re a very busy man, especially with the new developments at Gold Holdings. You have too much on your plate for me to risk your health. I’m sorry that I failed to care for my health and failed to maintain my efficiency.”

He scoffed. “You failed to maintain your efficiency? What are you, a microwave?”

Sighing, he shook his head and walked back to his seat. “Next time you’re sick, you take days off. And you don’t need to treat me like a delicate princess, I can handle a little flu virus.”

She pursed her lips and raised a brow.

Sitting down, Lucien looked at her. “What? You’re thinking of the time I passed out, aren’t you? That was years ago, and it wasn’t the flu, it was Norovirus, and I was dehydrated!”

Her lips curved into a smile, and she pressed them together.

Glad he’d made her smile, Lucien felt his displeasure fade.

"Sorry, for my uh... outburst."

"It's okay."

“Take the day off,” he suggested, leaning back in his chair.

She blinked. “What? No! I have to be here to—”

“I’ve worked without a secretary before, Kendall, I won’t die.”

A frown worried her brows, and she sighed, shaking her head. “But, it’ll be inefficient if you have to get up each time you need something. A call! What if you’re on call and you suddenly need something from—”

“Nelson, Ms McCarthy’s coming down. Drive her home, will you?”

Kendall blinked as he lowered his telephone.

He hung up and looked at her. “Go home and rest, take care of that fever. I’ll be fine.”

No amount of pouting and pitiful looks was enough to change his mind, and soon, Kendall was on her way home.

This was why it was bad to lie. Things always spiralled out of control. Nelson dropped her off, and she was soon in her hotel room.

She had about half an hour of lazing about and staring at the ceiling before her phone rang. She quickly answered. “Sir?!”

“Kendall, I know you’re resting,” Lucien said, sounding like he was battling his way through the Amazon jungle. “But I can’t find that damn briefing report! The one in the blue binder.”

“Ah!” She winced. “Quinton took that.”

“Quinton from the Investment Division?”

“Yes. But he’s not in today.”

“Shit. I need it.”

“I made a digital version. I’ll email it to you right now.”

“Wonderful! Thanks.”

He hung up.

She hurried to her laptop and sent the documents he needed.

Ten minutes later, her phone rang.

“Sir?”

“Kendall. Sorry. The briefing report came with a list of investors being considered by J & F Inc. Our competition.”

“Left side of your table, second drawer from the bottom. It has a pink paper clip on it.”

“Thanks.”

He hung up.

Smiling, Kendall sat down and shook her head. He was coping without her, alright.

Five minutes later, her phone rang again.

She smiled, sighed and answered. “Yes, Sir?”

There was no answer. And then an odd voice said, “Hello? Valencia?”