“You don’t even know what I’m thinking,” I snap.
He chuckles, the sound dark and melty, and it trickles down my skin like hot syrup.Sticky.Impossible to get rid of.
“Your poker face isn’t as good as you think it is, Brooks.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh, though it comes out shrill and awkward, which pisses me off.“My poker face is the best in the business, Lucien.”
He shakes his head slowly and leans toward me, the air around us suddenly going so electric that the hairs on my arms standing up.His eyes drop to my lips and then rise back up so slowly that I can feel his gaze dragging over my skin.He’s abruptly too close.Too big.Too male.
“Maybe to people who don’t know you.But you forget.I grew up learning how to read you.You can’t hide from me, love.”
A fine shiver runs through my body, and I forget how to breathe for a moment.Lucien is all I can see, his woodsy scent filling my mouth and his eyes going so dark I feel like I’m drowning in them.He’s right; he did grow up learning to read me.Any time I was in New Orleans, he claimed me and spent my days–and some of my nights–keeping me to himself.When we learned we were to be married, it had been a natural progression because we’d already been so wrapped up in one another.
But that was then and this is now, and he’s wrong if he thinks I’m still that lovesick little girl.He doesn’t have the ties on me that he used to have.I cut them a long time ago, and swore that no one would ever hold me like that again.
“You don’t know me as well as you used to.Things have changed.”
He reaches out and runs a finger along my lower lip, his eyes following it like he can’t look away, and all the blood rushes into my lower belly.I want to arch my back and take his finger into my mouth.Fall into the familiar rhythm we once had together and let him tell me exactly what we’re going to do about all of this.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
But that’s not the right answer, I tell myself firmly.Because I know better.I may not know what Lucien has been up to for the last ten years, but I do know one thing: When it comes to him, there are always traps.And you almost never see them before you find yourself falling.
Even now, I suspect that he knows more than he’s telling me.I would bet that he came to New York with this information already in his pocket, ready to use it when the moment presented itself, as either blackmail or something more nefarious.Christ, there’s even a chance he’s involved in it.After all, his family is one of the most powerful families in New Orleans.They don’t deal in smuggling, at least not that I know of, but Gemini Boudreaux is a brilliant businessman.If he saw an opportunity, I’m betting he would take it.And he’d drag Lucien along with him.
I admit to myself, very quickly, that I don’t want to believe that.I don’t want to think Lucien would ever enter sex trafficking.I’d like to believe that he has more humanity, more decency, than that.Because how could I ever have loved someone who would do something that horrific?
And what will I do if I find out heisinvolved?
Will I stand up to him and destroy him, the way I should?
Or will my heart get in the way and stop me?
I need to get my heart out of the equation, by hook or by crook, and the moment I have that thought, I know how to do it.
“Did you have anything to do with it?”I ask, counting on the question to be confusing enough for him to make a mistake and tell me the truth.
His expression shutters and he pulls his hand away from my mouth.“Anything to do with what?”
Dammit.Well, the truth, then.“My father’s real reason for our marriage.”
Lucien’s face goes through a range of sudden changes, from confusion to understanding and then shock and anger.“His plan to put a mole into my family for information?Your idea that he was planting a spy rather than handing me a wife?No.Of course not.That doesn’t even make sense.”
He’s right; it doesn’t.It probably never did.But I was convinced at the time that Lucien had known what was going on and agreed to it.
“But it made sense at the time,” I note.“Why else would you have agreed to marry me?”
“And why would I agree to a plot that would endanger my family?”he returns.He lays a gentle finger on my hand and shakes his head.“I wanted you, Brooks.That was my only thought.”When I don’t answer, he continues.“You should have come to me for answers.I would have helped you.Saved you from your father.”
Now I do jerk away from him, furious at the idea that I needed saving.
Furious at the fact that he’s right.
“You would have helped me for your own reasons, and they would have been just as bad as my father’s.How long until we get to New Orleans?I want to find Aislyn and get back to New York, where things make sense.”
He doesn’t answer me this time, but gives me a long, weighted look, and then moves back to his original seat.
Good.I can’t think when he’s in my space, and right now, I need my brain more than ever.All my body wants is Lucien, and I need to keep my brain strong enough to overrule that urge.
