Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(60)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Let’s get you fed and take you to town,” he murmured.

Oh hell.

That had to go into my safe too. All of it, the mouth brush, the forehead rest and him taking me to town.

Damn but it was getting freaking crowded in there.

He rolled over me, exited the bed but pulled the covers to, not exposing my lower half at all.

He leaned in, put fists into the bed on either side of me and said, “Take your time, sweetheart. Edwina’s likely gone. I’ll see what I can do about breakfast.”

Then he was gone, zoom, out of the room.

I looked at the clock and noticed it was nearly noon. Then I looked at the ceiling. Then I wondered if Lucien could make breakfast. Then I figured, since he’d lived hundreds of years, during one of those years he’d have to learn how to cook. At least make toast (or something).

Then I sighed because I couldn’t escape it.

If he kept acting like this, there was a big, ugly, gaping flaw in my plan.

This was going to be hard. Really, really hard.

Lucky for me, one of my bad traits would come in handy. I was crazy stubborn.

“I can do this,” I mouthed to the ceiling, not wanting Lucien to hear and hoping I wasn’t lying to myself.

* * * * *

I stood at the stove and slid the big spoonfuls of vegetable shortening into the skillet, the shortening melting as it hit the hot iron. As I did this, I considered the many mistakes I’d made that day and began to prepare not to make anymore that evening.

I didn’t discover if Lucien could cook. But I did discover he could toast a mean sesame bagel and put the exact right amount of cream cheese, smoked salmon and capers on it.

As we ate our bagels and drank our coffee, we didn’t talk. This was not companionable silence, it was uncomfortable or at least it was for me. I didn’t know what to say, seeing as I couldn’t be me. And I didn’t know why Lucien wasn’t talking. And I wanted to know why, like, a lot.

I tried to gauge his mood but failed.

What I did know was that he’d attuned himself to me. It wasn’t that he marked me. It was something else, something new, it made me feel less like I was drugged and more like I was pulsating. It was like he was trying to figure me out, source my mood.

I didn’t know if he succeeded but I guessed no as his quiet watchfulness lasted all day.

I was terrified he’d want to take a shower with me or worse, a bath, but he let me take a shower alone.

My first big mistake was when I was sitting at my dressing table, blow drying my hair.

Lucien had disappeared while I showered but I heard the shower go on as I was doing my makeup. While I was doing my hair, Lucien walked into the dressing room in nothing but a towel.

My mistake was I should have looked away. But I caught sight of him in my big, Hollywood starlet mirror and my mouth started watering.

Then he tugged off the towel with me sitting right there and at the sight of all that was Lucien, and there was a lot of it, my mouth went dry.

He was, it must be said, perfect from head-to-toe. Utterly perfect. Strong, heavy thighs. Muscled, well-formed behind. Bunched, defined calves. He even had handsome feet!

And there were other parts of him that made me wonder if he was not a vampire but instead a living god.

I jerked my eyes back to my reflection as Lucien dressed.

He chose jeans, boots, a great belt and a tailored shirt that was stripes of white, baby-blue, midnight blue, light gray and charcoal gray. He wore this untucked.

It was pretty much casual wear on any other man.

Lucien looked like he’d stepped alive out of a magazine.

I decided from what Stephanie had said during my Selection, and how Lucien behaved at The Feast, that he’d want me to make an effort so he could show me off.

This wasn’t tough for me. I was a girlie girl. I made an effort even if I was running to the store to buy eggs.

I decided on nice, low-rider jeans, high-heeled, ultra-strappy tan sandals, a matching belt and a great blouse, almost see-through, white with buttons that stopped at my cle**age. The neckline went out to a vee, it was collared and had half a dozen thin pleats running along the sleeves and down the spine from collar to waist. It was a killer shirt.

I did my makeup subtle and left my hair long, in smooth flips.

I had no jewelry to put on so, being done, I just tucked my lip gloss in my back pocket as I had no wallet or phone thus taking a purse was unnecessary. Then I left the room.

By the time I was ready, Lucien had disappeared and I went in search of him. When I found him, he was plugging the phone into the jack in the kitchen.

I didn’t know what this meant to him but I knew what it meant to me. I nearly threw myself at him and gave him a big kiss.

Instead, I called, “Ready.”

His head came up, he looked at me, his eyes went lazy and my stomach pitched pleasantly.

Then he asked me, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

My body rocked to a complete halt.

It was safe to say, no. I didn’t know.

I mean, I knew I was nothing to sneeze at. No mothers had pulled their children away from my grotesqueness and I could somewhat easily get a date.

The way he said it, the fact that Lucien said it – a man so rugged, so compelling, I’d likened him to a living god not twenty minutes before; a man who’d probably seen his fair share of women in his time – that made it another compliment which was profound and I was definitely not sure I could handle it.

“Leah?” His voice calling my name jerked me out of my Lucien Profound Compliment Stupor.

I didn’t know what to say. What did you say?

I decided on, “Thank you.”

He walked right up to me, his eyes thoughtful. When he stopped (in my space, by the way), he used both his hands to shift my hair over my shoulders and then he curled his fingers around my neck. The whole time, his eyes were locked on mine.

“You have no idea, do you?” he asked quietly.

“I count the fact that I’ve reached forty and no one has asked me to join a circus as a good sign,” I told him, his head cocked sharply to the side and he burst out laughing, pulling me to him roughly and giving me a stand-up hug.

I endured this hug. It was hard. A stand-up hug from Lucien wasn’t as good as a lying down one but it wasn’t far off.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity but wasn’t, obviously, he pulled away. “Let’s get you some books.”

He drove us in the Cayenne to a mall in the city. Not any mall but an exclusive one that was surrounded by streets and streets of luxurious boutique shops and classy restaurants, cafés and bars. These were all nestled in between wide, clean sidewalks with lampposts on which hooked hanging planters and big, stylish pots on the walks all dripping colorful flowers.