Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Lucian tenderly stroked her arm and she waited for him to move further over her. When he didn’t, she gently took his hand and placed it on her breast again, taking him by surprise. He paused for a moment, then kissed tenderly down her throat. Scout arched into him as he palmed her breast over her nightgown, massaging pleasantly, but not taking it any further.
She sensed his need, yet when she tried to touch him, he diverted her motions and subdued her with a slow kiss. This went on and on, her trying in her own inexperienced way to timidly push things further, and him, the aggressor, gently rebuffing her efforts.
Their kisses fell into such soft caresses she grew sleepy. Lucian caressed her skin with long, soothing strokes. She felt as if she were being hypnotized. Eventually Lucian softly eased away and whispered good night. She was confused, but exhaustion made it difficult to figure out exactly why. Frowning into the darkness, her thoughts slowly faded into dreams.
Chapter 23
Asshole
Lucian left early the following morning. Scout woke to find the bed cold and him dressing quietly in the dark. He said he had meetings downtown for most of the morning and suggested she spend the day enjoying herself. He told her how to order breakfast and recommended if she got bored she visit the boutique downstairs for a bathing suit and go for a swim in the hotel pool. She didn’t do any of that.
Scout had a long bath and figured out how to use a blow-dryer. Her hair doubled in size and curled. She liked it because it was different, but she wasn’t confident enough to actually leave the room that way.
She spent an hour practicing putting on makeup. She got a little carried away with her eyes and ended up washing it all off and starting over again.
For breakfast Scout ordered a bagel and an ice cream sundae. She was amused with her disregard for social order and three square meals until the attendant that delivered the sundae looked at her judgmentally. Then she felt juvenile and stupid. Luckily, the ice cream was exceptional and it soothed her embarrassment.
She dressed in jeans and a sheer blouse, then changed into a tight skirt with a loose green sweater and wide brown belt. Scout stood in front of the long mirror in the guest room and tried on one pair of shoes after another.
As she zipped up a sleek pair of leather boots, there was a knock at the door. Not wasting time removing the boots, she scampered to the front door and opened it. Her pleasant, easygoing mood evaporated.
“Ah, Scout,” Slade greeted dryly.
“Lucian’s not here.” She stepped behind the door, wishing she’d left her jeans on and not changed into the short skirt.
“I’m aware. He should be here soon. He asked me to wait for him.”
It didn’t feel right having someone else in the penthouse. She’d come to think of it as hers and Lucian’s space, their hideout, like a little tree fort above the city.
“Oh, come in.”
Slade stepped into the suite, and she shut the door. He walked to Lucian’s desk and deposited some papers there.
Lucian didn’t like people around his desk.
When he turned on her, Scout froze. They stood, facing off for a moment, then he moved to the bar and helped himself to a drink.
Gently, she sat on the edge of the settee, very aware of her posture and forcing her knees together, trying her best to mimic Dr. Sheffield’s confidence. He turned and openly scrutinized her as he sipped his drink.
“How long did Lucian say he would be?” she asked nervously.
“He didn’t. He said he was on his way.”
She mouthed a silent oh.
“This must be quite different from Saint Christopher’s.”
Nothing like making an uncomfortable situation worse.
Scout decided then and there that Slade was a dick, and he wasn’t going to intimidate her. “How is it you know Lucian?”
“We’re partners,” he said and offered no other explanation. Did Slade own part of Patras? Lucian had said he had sisters, but mentioned nothing of a brother. Was Slade a distant cousin or somehow a member of the Patras family? Perhaps by marriage. She looked at his hand. No ring.
“How long do you plan on being Lucian’s . . . guest?”
She was distracted from her thoughts by his question. He said “guest” as if he were substituting it for a much more derogatory word.
“Um, we didn’t really discuss a time period. I suppose as long as we enjoy each other or until we no longer do.”
“No doubt you’ll be enjoying the lap of luxury for a long time. Money does have a way of broadening one’s tolerance.”
Scout glowered at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just pointing out that the appeal’s tipped in your favor. Where will you go once Lucian’s done with you? It’s a long way back to the dirty floor of a shelter from the top.”