Chapter 24

Lucien’s POV

“You look like shit.” I don't lift my head as Cormac walks into my office. He is the only one with sufficient audacity to do so without knocking and the only one who would comment on my disheveled appearance without being an eyelid.

“Thank you for the update, Cormac. I'm quite sure Hannah would be pleased.” I say dryly.

“And what's got your panties in a twist this fine morning?” He says. I ignored him to sign a document, setting it aside and beginning to read the next one.

“You won't answer, so it's about Corrigan.” He says thoughtfully.

“Great deductive skills.” I drawl. “So much for amateur psychology.”

“So it is about Corrigan. What happened to her? What did you do?” Cormac asks, sitting.

“What makes you think I'm the problem?” I say, exasperated.

“Take it from me, Lucien. The secret to world peace, men are always the problem.” He says with flourish. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“So when are you going to apologize?” he asks.

“And why would I have to apologize?” I ask.

“Aside from the fact that she’s got a stranglehold on your nuts.” I glare at him. He raises his hand in surrender. “and the obvious fact that you're the wrong party, there’s the fact that she couldn't possibly be upset for nothing—and please don’t all how I know she's upset—and you’re going to have to apologize for that too.”

He stands. “Well I suppose I've tortured your life enough. Just tell her “hi” from me when you finally apologize.” With that, he walks off.

I walked into the Hotel that night with renewed determination.

If Corrigan won’t come out of her room on her own, I will have to pull her out, even if I gave to do so bodily. I shed my clothes and get into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and shaving.

I pull on a sweater and a pair of linen trousers and walk out of my suite.

I walk to the door of her suite and knock politely. I do not want to be forced to use a key from the front desk—the one I already have in my pocket—I would really prefer if she came up to the door herself.

“Corrigan.” I say through the door. I know she can hear me. I can hear the footsteps on the floor on the other side of the door. They stilled at the sound of my voice, but I know she’s listening.

“Please open the door.” I say with a small laugh. “The staff are worried about you and they’ve convinced themselves that I’m the reason why you’re not coming out of your room.”

She does not reply and I do not hear any footsteps.

I lean against the door. “ They've made my life shit.” I say, chuckling. “So you could possibly tell them I'm not the mean dictator they think I am? And I would like to apologize to you.For the things I said and the things I did.”

No answer. I have a breath. “Well,” I say, taking the suite key card from my pocket and holding it up. “For both our sakes, I hope you’re dressed because I’m coming in there in the next ten seconds and while I would absolutely love the view, I would hate to scandalize ths staff.”

“Don’t come in here!” I hear her growl on the other side of the door and I smile. She still has a fight in her. Good.

“Six seconds left, let's keep this up!” I say.

“If you come in here I’ll claw your eyes out!”

“Three, two, one….” I swipe the key card against the card reader and push the door open. She is standing by the balcony, her hands gripping the newly re-installed banisters.

She is in a robe and her hair is wet. Her eyes look a bit sunken in with dark circles under them other than that, she looks fine. She is barefoot.

“Can I keep my eyes open or do I have to shield them so you don’t claw them out?” I ask dryly. Her chin hardens.

“What do you want, Lucien? Or is it time for my exile?”

“There will be no exile.” I say calmly.

“So will you be so kind as to lock the door on your way out? Thank you.” She turns away and looks over at the view from the balcony, obviously dismissing me. I sigh. It’s time for the bodily persuasion, then.

I get to her before she can realize what I’m about to do. Her eyes widen and she moves away, but not fast enough to avoid me. I bend over at the waist and lift her onto my shoulder so her middle lies on my shoulder and I have my forearm over the backs of her knees.

She struggles like a cat, wriggling and twisting, cursing and hitting my back.

“Put me down.” She grounds out as I make for the door. She tries to knee me in the chest and kick my crotch.

“Wonderful tactics, pet. You do realize that if I fall backwards in pain you’re most likely going to fall over your head?” I drawl.

“I’d like to give that a try. I have a thick skull. And you’re more likely to fall forwards.” She says grudgingly as I get to the hallway, smiling to a maid in the hallway with a gaping mouth.

“You’re making a scene, Lucien. Put me down.” She reaches for my butt to pinch and I bounce her middle against my shoulder, earning a grunt from her.

“I really hate you.” She says vehemently as I get to the elevator and push the button.

“It’s getting a bit old, but whatever you say.”

When the elevator doors slide open, I walk in and wait till they slide close before letting her get down from my shoulder. I am able to grab the fist she swings at me before it hits my cheek and back her against my chest, holding her hands away from her. She huffs, blowing her hair out of her face.

“Great. You've got me out of the suit and embarrassed both in the process.” She says. “Could you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“The rooftop lounge.” I replied.

“What are we doing there?” she asks.

“Well,” I say thoughtfully. “The only way Hannah would have agreed to feed me actual food without poisoning me is if I shared it with you.”

“I'm not hungry.” She says sulkily.

I do not point out the fact that she has been locked up in her room for two days and had probably lived off of whatever snacks that were in there. The last thing I want is a fight with her.

“Then you can watch me eat.” I drawl, watching the doors slide open after they make a “ding” sound and I pull her out. The staff really have outdone themselves tonight.

There is a fully set table with candlelight and food. Much more food than we could both finish. The floor is carpeted and there are stringed LED lights hanging from the railings and the potted plants.

There is an almost other-worldly quality about it.

I pull her to the table and pull a chair out for her, letting her sit before I take the seat opposite her. She stares at me coolly, apparently not tempted to try any of the food.

I put a piece of cold meat and steamed vegetables on my plate and took a fork.

“You're not going to try anything, are you?” I ask.

“I was willing to try going on exile,” she says in a sweet voice. “but you wouldn't let me.”

I take a deep breath. I’m going to have to apologize if this has to work.

“Corrigan, about the things I said to you…” I begin, putting my fork down.

“It's nothing.” She cuts in. “It's just you putting me in my place.”

“That was me being an asshole.” I correct calmly. She smiles wryly.

“You don’t expect me to disagree, do you?” She asks, pouring some wine into a glass.

I almost sigh with relief. She is taking something. Wine, but at least that's something.

“No I don’t. Because I was being an asshole.”

“Lucien, listen. I’m sorry for what I did there years ago. Or was mean and selfish and hurtful and trust me, it will haunt me forever.” She says, looking down at the tablecloth and picking at it.

“But I want out. I would do anything…anything but this.” His lips parted as though he had something to say, but they shut immediately.

It surprises me how little I have thought of the exile. Those three years seem so far away now, like they had happened in some other land.

And while they had been the darkest days of my life, filled with so much pain, anger and hurt, they had also been kind to me.

They had taught me how to survive, to make it on my own, to fight hard and fight dirty for anything I want. I can’t begrudge her for that experience, because without it, I would not have been half the man I am right now.

“Anything but what?” I say, spearing my fork into a tomato and a piece of meat and putting it in my mouth.

“This.” She gestures wildly around us and between us. “We’re tearing ourselves apart, Lucien.” She says, her voice slightly imploring and defeated.

“”This” being…”

She heaves a breath. “I would like to stop being your mistress “