When I’m with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(33)
Author: Beth Kery

Baden was in police custody, although he’d been taken initially to Stroger Hospital for multiple contusions. Lucien, on the other hand, sported only a single cut over his right eyebrow. He wouldn’t allow the EMT to attend to the small wound, telling him to attend to Baden. Later, he’d allowed Elise to wash it and apply a small bandage, never speaking to her the whole time.

In fact, Lucien had said very little to her in the past hour and a half, talking mostly to the police officers as he gave his report and listening intently while she gave hers.

In a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed the evening would end this way. What if Baden had pulled a knife or gun on Lucien, and he’d died out there in that stairwell? She shuddered at the horrible thought. Now they were alone together, and Elise wasn’t sure what to say.

“Are you all right?” she asked him, studying him closely where he leaned against a chipped dresser, looking calm, deadly, and downright gorgeous in his well-fitted pants and sports jacket. Somehow, the bandage above his right eyebrow appeared perfectly in sync with the rest of his appearance.

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m concerned about.”

“Like I told the officers, the worst I got was grabbed.”

“You were lucky.”

She gave a shaky laugh and walked toward him. “That you came? Yes, I was.” Her gaze ran over his implacable features. “If I haven’t thanked you yet, I will now. You have about a million more thank-yous coming.” She swallowed thickly when he didn’t respond, just continued to laser her with those light gray eyes. “I’m sorry I left Ian and Francesca’s party like that. I was feeling . . .”

“Rejected?” he said softly when she faded off.

She swallowed. It did sound silly when she heard Lucien say the word. But why didn’t he want to take her in a heated rush like other men? Was she not as attractive to him as she’d hoped when he’d first expressed his desire? She felt helpless about how to deal with him.

Manage him.

“Because I am controlling the pace of this doesn’t mean that I don’t want you like crazy, Elise,” he said, seemingly reading her mind. He straightened and closed the distance between them. “I owe you.”

Her breath hitched when she absorbed his low, ominous tone. “What do you mean?”

“What in the name of all that is sinful do you think you are doing living in a flophouse?” he asked succinctly, his nostrils flaring with what she recognized as contained fury.

“It’s not a flophouse! It’s a perfectly respectable—” She paused midsentence when they heard a door slam loudly in the hallway and the sound of a woman cursing loudly and a man talking in rapid Spanish. Ms. Inga. One of her johns must have stiffed her. Elise noticed Lucien’s frown as he glanced toward the hallway and quickly changed tracks. “I have to live within my means, Lucien. I am just doing the best I can.”

“Your means? You’re an extremely wealthy woman.”

She sniffed and averted her gaze. “It just so happens my father doesn’t agree with my plans for moving here. He’s cut me off.”

A tense silence ensued in which she found it difficult to meet Lucien’s gaze.

“I specifically asked you if you had enough money to live in this city.”

“I do have enough.”

“I meant do you have enough funds to live in this city in a safe, reasonable manner. You knew exactly what I meant.

“How was I to know what you meant?”

“Because I meant what most sane adults would mean,” he boomed, taking her off guard. She didn’t step back or flinch in holding his stare, but it was difficult in those tense ensuing seconds. Something else entered his expression. Was it helplessness? He closed his eyes briefly and glanced away. “This is a dangerous neighborhood. I can’t believe you’ve been living here.”

“It’s not dangerous,” she said stubbornly, her glance bouncing away when he gave her an incredulous look. He reached into his jacket pocket. “I assume this is yours?” he asked, handing her the watch she’d tried to give the taxi driver for payment.

“Where did you find it?” she asked, her head lowered as she studied the watch, even though her entire focus was on Lucien.

“On the stairs. Baden dropped it. Why did he have your watch? Did he steal it from you?”

She stared sightlessly at the floor. She’d left out the part in her report to the police about her trying to give the taxi driver the watch for payment. Now she knew why she’d omitted that portion. She hadn’t wanted Lucien to hear it. It was strange, but she honestly hadn’t realized how potentially dangerous flashing around an expensive watch in this neighborhood could be.

Not until she considered her behavior through Lucien’s eyes.

“Elise?” he asked pointedly. “Why did Baden have this watch? You weren’t wearing it at Ian and Francesca’s.”

She blinked, but her surprise faded quickly enough. Lucien took note of the smallest details.

“I . . . I didn’t have enough money for the cab fare,” she said lamely.

An awful silence swelled.

“So you came up to your room to get something to give the taxi driver in lieu of payment, and you chose a designer watch worth several thousand dollars? Are you mad, flashing expensive jewelry like that around in this neighborhood?”

“It was the most reasonable thing I had to bargain with!”

“And Baden recognized that it was a valuable watch and took it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, shame stealing her voice.

“Baden was smart enough to realize that if you were willing to throw away a Cartier watch, there was even more valuable treasure to be had,” he said, glancing at the antique jewelry box on the dresser.

She closed her eyes in mortification. What might that lowlife have done to her if Lucien hadn’t shown up?

Go home, a voice in her head taunted. Get married. Let someone else take care of you. You always make a mess of doing it yourself.

“What are you thinking, Elise?”

She met his gaze, chin tilted up proudly even though he had to see the irksome tears in her eyes. “The same thing you are, more than likely. That I should just run home to Paris before I cause some real damage.”

His rocklike expression collapsed for a moment so brief, she thought she’d imagined it. He stepped forward and took her into his arms.

“That’s not what I was thinking. Don’t give up now,” he said near her ear, his voice low and full of . . . regret? Concern? She couldn’t say for sure. All she knew was that it felt like heaven to be in his arms. She put her cheek next to his chest and inhaled shakily when his long fingers threaded through her hair. He smelled so good—like clean soap, his addictive cologne, and just the hint of his former arousal. Her body stirred to life of its own accord as she recalled their illicit tryst at the penthouse. His hand moved. The back of her head seemed to fit perfectly in his palm.