Chapter 26

Corrigan’s POV

“I have something for you.” Lucien whispers into my ear when I'm in the middle of a conversation with a couple a whole week of playing in the dining room.

My heartbeat quickens and I shoot him an embarrassed smile.

I enjoy his little whispers every now and then. The heated silences and slight touches. What was that he had said about patience?There is something about the inevitable and unbreakable pull of the forbidden. I feel it when he bends over me when I am practicing alone or brushes against me.

I cannot tell if they are accidental or deliberate anymore, but I know it is definitely working.

“Okay, Mr. Blackthorn.” I say.

I am thankful for the opportunity to be presented to others as something but his mistress. Converging with actual value and contribution to his life. Not some sort of leech only useful for sexual gratification and—from the words of guests and staff when they think I am not listening—the latest in a long line.

I like being spoken to like I have a brain, like my opinion on things actually counts, not as the thoughtless airhead on Lucien’s arm.

I don't intend to run this opportunity by referring to him as anything but my boss and employer once we are in public. He does not enjoy this but I do, if not for anything, for the respect that comes with warning your keep.

We have dinner alone on the rooftop. It has become a sort of tradition for us to do this together. We laugh together, talk, tease each other and enjoy dinner. Afterward, he escorts me respectfully to my suite where he kisses my jaw. Lightly and potently, each kiss is more drugging than the last. The kisses seem to speak for themselves.

I will not come in till you can't resist any longer.

It is a bit ironic that we are going this now. That we are just getting to know each other when we had almost gotten mated to each other the years ago.

Tonight, I stare at the table expectantly. He is smiling, indulgent of my eager attitude. “Go ahead and ask.” He says, half smiling.

I wrinkle my nose. “That would be wrong, asking for a gift.”

He leans in. “Throw away the stuffy training on manners and flower arrangements and just ask.”

“Hey, you told me you had something for me and a gentleman never reneges on his promises.” I say solemnly.

“Who's to say I'm a gentleman?” He says with a wolfish grin.

I feel a shiver of anticipation run down my spine and I look away. He clears his throat. “However, in the spirit of kindness and equanimity…”

“You're all heart.” I draw sarcastically.

“I’ll put you out of your misery.” He continued like I hadn’t said anything. He dips his hand in his breast pocket and pulls something out. It is a black velvet box. He pulls the lid up to reveal the most beautiful ruby pendant I have ever seen and my breath hitches in my throat.

It is a chain with a single teardrop shaped ruby that shines in the moonlight and reflects beautifully. I am almost afraid to touch it.

“It…it’s beautiful.” I say, entranced. He smiles.

“Can I put it on you?” he asks, standing.

I nod thoughtlessly. He walks round the table and takes my hand, guiding me to my feet. He stands beside me, so close that I can feel the heat from him. He leans in closer, taking the pendant and clasping it on my nape.

I remember, all too late, the debt that the pack is in and my eyes widen.

“You have to take it back.” I say, reaching behind me to undo the clasp. His hands fall over mine, stilling them.

“You don't like it?” he asks.

“It's not about liking, Lucien.” I say. “It's about not buying me expensive gifts while the pack is still in debt.” I try to unclasp the pendant but his grip on my hands remains firm.

“Calm down, Corrigan and listen to me. A single necklace won't bankrupt the pack.” He says reasonably, putting my hands by my sides and holding them in place.

“But it will get the pack farther away from bankruptcy.” I counter. He takes a deep breath like he is trying to gather his patience together. I sniff.

“The pack’s finances are stable, Corrigan.” He says against my ear, his voice a bare whisper. “It took a hell of time and energy from me, but it was worth it.”

I turn, frowning.

“The pack…is it out of debt?” I ask, looking up at him. He nods, pushing my hair back so it doesn't interfere with the necklace.

“Not anymore, Corrigan.” He says.

I squeal and put my arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a deep hug. He chuckles slightly, his hands resting on the small of my back. When I let him go, his arms remain in the small of my waist but he lets go slowly, his eyes testing on my face, searching.

I look away, unable to hold the intense scrutiny of his gaze. That gaze that reminds me of warm sheets and ecstasy. He smiles slowly, predator-like. Like he can see my struggle and even enjoys it. Like he knows what my thoughts are.

I take my seat and watch him take his. He puts some wine into my glass which I do not decline. I wrap my brain, thinking of a conversation starter.

“That…this is a really beautiful pendant.” I say.

“It suits you.” He agrees.

I pluck at the hem of the tablecloth. “So…you never did tell me how old you were.” I say, looking at him from beneath my lashes. His eyes narrow.

“That is a…strange choice of topic.” He says finally. “any reason why you picked it?”

I shrug. “Conversation. Also, you know almost everything about me and I know nothing about you.”

“My age is up for debate.” He says calmly, doing from his wine glass and staring at me over the rim of the wineglass.

“That's a very vague answer.” I say, unsatisfied.

“That's the publicity answer.” He says dryly. “The real answer is, I don't know.”

My jaw drops. “You're kidding, right?”

“No.” he says. “Let's just say, my mother hadn't exactly been prepared to be a mother, so she had me conveniently taken care of. She led me into the woods behind the pack house once…” his voice trails off. “she told me to wait for her. I must not have been really little, because I suppose I know she wasn’t coming back “

He speaks so matter-of-factly and coldly that my heart begins to break for him. I wonder how he must have felt. Young, toddler version of Lucien, stuck in the woods alone with no one to help or defend him because some woman would not take charge of her responsibilities.

I feel anger course through me. I want to rip Lucien’s mother, whoever she might have been, apart shred by shred, for abandoning and traumatizing a child as young as that.

Thus must be his way of dealing with it. The pain of rejection from his own mother. Being plain and factual about it. I think about my rejection if him and wince. I wonder what he must have thought in that moment. Felt.

He is staring into his glass now, his eyes far away.

“Lucien, I’m so…” I begin, guilt choking me.

“Don’t.” He says sharply, his eyes locking with mine. “Don't start with the apologies, Corrigan. Not now.”

He stands, his gaze slightly unfocused. “I'm going in for an early night.” He says, walking towards the elevator. I don't stop to think before getting up and running after him. I catch up to him before the elevator doors slide shut.

I get into the elevator beside him.

“Is it something I said?” I ask guiltily.

“Corrigan, if you want to remain in this elevator I advise that you remain quiet.” He says in a slightly contained voice. My lips snap shut and I look away.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I step out behind him, letting him take my hand and take me to my door. He didn't kiss me this time.

He just squeezes my arm and takes a stepbackward. Egged on by bravery I didn’t even know I had, I strengthened my hold on his forearm, forcing him to stall mid-step. He looks down at me.

“Stay the night, Lucien.” I say, surprising even myself with the genuineness of the request. I stand on top toe and kiss his cheek slowly, only a hair's breadth away from the corner of his mouth. When I move away, I look into his eyes.

“Stay,” I say again.

His lips lift at one corner and he slowly extricates my hand from his arm. “Pity sex has never been a personal favorite of mine, Corrigan. When you come to my bed, it will not be because of some sob-story.”

With that, he walks away, leaving me standing in the doorway with my mouth gaping.