Lucien’s Gamble(17)
Author: Sylvia Day

He’d visit his mother and take her out for the afternoon. She would enjoy the surprise.

It wasn’t long before Lucien was climbing the steps of his mother’s townhouse.

Heading toward the pink parlor, he scowled when he heard his mother’s laughter inside. Damnation, she had guests. Perhaps she wouldn’t be available for a picnic either. The thought made his mood even more disagreeable. He opened the door and then stood frozen on the threshold.

"What the devil are you doing in my mother’s house?" he barked.

Three heads—his mother’s, the duke’s, and Julienne’s—swung toward him in surprise.

He was somewhat pacified by Julienne’s radiant smile. "I was invited, of course,"

she replied.

His Grace stood. "Afternoon, son. Wasn’t expecting to see you until this evening at your club, but I’m pleased all the same."

"I’m not," grumbled Amanda. "Run along now, Lucien, and allow me to speak to Lady Julienne."

Lucien crossed his arms and glowered. "If I leave, Julienne is coming with me.

Today was my day with her, promised to me for a picnic."

"You whine like a petulant child," his mother scolded as she attempted to shoo him out of the room.

"You have no notion of the trouble that went into preparing that damn picnic,"

he argued. "And now it’s sitting outside, on the back of my phaeton, getting cold." He held out his hand. "Come along, Julienne."

Amanda glared at her son. "She’s not going anywhere. She came to see me, and she’s been here only a few minutes."

"She has no business being here. We had plans."

Julienne rose from the settee with her customary grace, and Lucien’s eyes became riveted to her. The epitome of the tow’s esteemed social perfection, she was nevertheless completely at home in his mother’s parlor, and he adored her for that. Dressed in a scarlet riding habit, she was stunning, with her glorious hair piled atop her head and her lush lips curved in a placating smile. As she stepped closer, her scent enveloped him, and his entire body hardened, as it always did around her.

She reached out a hand and stroked his tense upper arm. "I’m sorry I ruined your plans for the day. Perhaps we can still go and take your parents with us."

At the slight touch of her hand, he lost his control and gripped her elbows, pulling her closer. He bent over her, lowering his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard. "I wanted you all to myself. I looked forward to it."

She laughed. "My maid is here. She would have come on the picnic, too."

"I might have been able to tolerate her," he muttered. "But my mother will hang on every word."

"What could you possibly have to say that would shock your parents?"

His mouth dropped to her ear. "How about how ravishing you look in that riding habit? I want to ravish you right out of it. I’m sporting an impressive cockstand, Julienne, just from looking at you. I want to take you somewhere, lift up your skirts, and lick you until you scream. I want to put my fingers inside you and—"

"G-good h-heavens," she sputtered, fanning her face with her hands.

"Incorrigible rogue."

Julienne stared at Lucien Remington and saw the wicked glint in his eyes. She narrowed her own.

Two could play his game.

Her mouth curved in a seductive smile, and she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. "And while your hands are under my skirts, my wicked Lucien, I would have my hands down your trousers stroking that magnificent cock. You would be so enamored with the feel of my hands, you would lie back and allow me to have my way with you. I could take you into my mouth and suck you. Hard, the way you love it. My—"

"Damnation!" Lucien backed away from her as if she had burned him, the crest of his cheekbones flushed with desire.

Julienne grinned and turned to face his parents. "Would you care to join us for a picnic, Madam Remington? Your Grace?"

Amanda smiled. "My goodness, the heat that comes off you two could start a blaze."

She flushed. Lucien was right. She was becoming a wanton.

"Don’t be embarrassed, dear," Amanda said with a grin. "I’m aware Lucien proposed to you. He wouldn’t have done so if you were indifferent to one another."

" Marriage?" barked the duke. "Does no one tell me anything?"

"She refused him," Amanda explained.

"I should think so," Magnus grumbled. "Fontaine is an excellent catch."

Julienne blinked. "Lucien is a wonderful catch as well. Any woman would be lucky to have him."

"Then why won’t you?" the duke challenged.

"Yes, Julienne," purred Lucien behind her. She spun to face him and found him leaning against the door jamb, with his arms crossed. "Why won’t you?"

"You know very well why!"

"I don’t," Amanda said. "Tell me."

Julienne lifted her chin. "He wants me for all the wrong reasons, and when he tires of me, he intends to dally as he pleases."

"Hell and damnation, son." His Grace roared with laughter. "Never tell a woman that before the vows are spoken."

"Glass!" Amanda cried, placing her hands on her hips. "I’m ashamed of both of you."

"She’d allow Fontaine to chase skirts," Lucien said defensively, "but not me. It’s not fair."

"That’s different," returned Amanda and Julienne in unison.

"Indeed?" Lucien said with a quirk of his brow.

"Indeed?" joined the duke as he walked over to his son. "Explain yourselves."

The two almost identical men faced their women with identical arched brows.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Men are so dense." She pierced Magnus with a steely stare. "Would I allow you to dally, Glass?"

His face colored. "Hell, Amanda. You’d probably unman me."

"And why is that?" she asked.

Julienne saw where the conversation was headed and rounded the settee. "This is entirely unnecessary. We were discussing a picnic and—"

"Hush, Julienne," Lucien ordered. "I intend to hear this."

"Because you love me, of course," the Duke of Glasser said, with a proud tilt to his chin. "And you’re damned possessive."

"There you have it!" Amanda gave a triumphant nod. "And you wouldn’t take another woman regardless, because you love me in return."

Lucien stood immobile by the parlor doors. "Are you saying, Mother, that Julienne won’t marry me because she loves me?"

Amanda shook her head. "What I’m saying is, Lady Julienne won’t marry you because you don’t love her. Or if you do, you won’t admit it."

"And you believe Fontaine loves her?" he choked out.

"Lucien, it’s not Fontaine’s feelings that matter." His mother rolled her eyes.

"You may be a genius with money, but when it comes to women, you’re positively dense."

Julienne had quite enough of this conversation. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, Madam Remington, but I’m afraid I must depart now."

"Like hell." Lucien blocked the doorway. "You promised me a picnic, and we’re damn well having one."

"I’m not dressed to go out," Amanda complained.

"Then we’ll have it here." He craned his neck into the hallway and yelled for the butler. When the servant appeared, Lucien sent the man to retrieve the basket.

Then he looked at Julienne again.

"I’m not feeling well," she said hoarsely.

Lucien approached her with a soft smile. "Lovesick?"

Her stricken gaze met his. "To hell with you, you conceited man."

"I’m already there, sweet. I’ve been there since I met you."

"If I’m such a source of misery for you, why do you seek me out?"

"You are not the source, my love. My own foolishness is."

Her throat tight, Julienne whispered, "Cease calling me that. We both know it’s not true."

With gentle fingers, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, then cupped her cheek.

He brushed away an errant tear with his thumb. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips gently to hers, paying no heed to his parents behind him.

"Lucien, your parents…" she whispered, her face flaming with embarrassment.

"Don’t mind us," Amanda called out. "Just pretend we’re not here."

Julienne’s mouth twitched. She rather liked Lucien’s parents. "What do you want from me, Lucien?"

"A chance," he said softly. "Keep Fontaine at bay until the end of the Season."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Do you love me, Julienne?"

"Lucien…" she breathed, dismayed that he’d asked her so bluntly. "You ask for too much."

"I ask for time to win you." His velvety voice curled around her, low and seductive in its promise. "If marriage to me is something you’d never consider, then say so, and I won’t pursue you any further. But if the possibility exists that you would consent to be mine, I want you to give me that chance."

She pulled back and searched his face. "You’re serious."

"I am," he agreed, with a tender smile. "Would you marry me if I could change?"

"I don’t know. I’m not certain we could be happy together. Not for the duration of our lives."