When I'm With You: Part VII Read Free Page A

you plan to return to Europe?” she asked. Her pulse had begun to throb at her throat and a sick feeling swept through her stomach.
    “No,” he said, sunlight reflecting in his eyes as he studied her. “I can manage things from here as well as anywhere. But I will have to dig in for the short run and make sure I hire people I trust in Europe. It will require more travel than I’ve been doing as of late.”
    She nodded, relief sweeping through her at hearing he had no immediate plans of leaving permanently. His gaze sharpened on her and he cradled her jaw.
    “Did you think I was planning on leaving you?” he asked.
    “No, of course not,” she said too quickly. When he raised his eyebrows in a sardonic gesture, she blushed and lowered her head, a feeling of shame seeping into her awareness. He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his stare.
    “Why are you always convinced you will be rejected?”
    His words cut to the quick. She twisted her chin out of his gentle grasp and stared blindly at the still lake, unwanted tears filling her eyes. What could she say without sounding melodramatic and foolish?
Because every time I feel close to someone, they end up leaving me? Because no matter how hard I tried to please the people in my life, they would rather I wasn’t around?
    Never. She’d never say those stupid, weak things.
    She couldn’t stop a tear from spilling down her cheek, however. Lucien leaned down and caught it with his lips. He made a rough soothing sound. Suddenly, his arms were around her, and he was lifting . . . urging her onto his thighs. He turned her, so that they were face-to-face, and her legs straddled his hips and fell over the tree branch. His arms closed around her until her breasts were crushed against his chest. He held her there, heartbeat to heartbeat, his hand massaging her back in that deft, knowing manner.
    Elise pressed her chin between his shoulder and neck, shielding herself. She cried silent tears, warmed by dappled sunlight, filled by Lucien’s embrace.
    “Because your parents didn’t prize you doesn’t mean that you’re not a precious, priceless jewel,” he said gruffly near her ear minutes later. “It only means that you have to learn to prize yourself. And you are,
ma fifille
. Aren’t you?”
    She swallowed thickly and inhaled for courage. She leaned back and let him see her damp cheeks.
    “I am,” she whispered.
    His eyes glinted between narrowed lids as he looked upon the gaping weaknesses and uncertainties she’d run from her entire life . . .
    . . . and she’d never felt so whole.
    She kissed his mouth softly, and he plucked at her parted lips with his own. For several golden, sunlit moments she melted in the cocoon of Lucien’s acceptance. Her flesh grew torpid, her sex damp. She felt him harden against her and knew he shared in her arousal. But it was more than just a sexual embrace.
    It was so much more.
    She wasn’t sure how long they remained like that, but eventually Lucien cradled her face with both hands and waited for her to open her eyelids sluggishly.
    “Come on. Let’s head back to the city. I’m going to take you for dinner. Where would the chef like to go? Everest? Savaur’s? Tru?” he asked, referring to some of the finest restaurants in the city, all with world-renowned chefs.
    She leaned her forehead against his and stroked his back. “To be honest, I wish I could go to Fusion. I’ve never been there to dine.”
    He chuckled appreciatively. “We’re closed on Sundays.”
    “I could cook for you,” she murmured languidly near his mouth.
    “Absolutely not. You’re not working tonight. I want you focused on one thing: pleasure,” he said gruffly before he kissed her once, brisk and thorough. He stood and cupped her ass, letting her body slide against his hard length sensually before he set her boots on the ground. “But that gives me an idea.”
    “What?”
    “You’ll see soon enough,” was all he said as he led her toward