Page 12 of Lucas

With a trembling voice, I describe the scene, giving details about Austin’s escalating harassment, and how I didn’t realize it was that Lucas—fuck me, how could I not have known?—because he was in “disguise.” The excuse works well enough for Liz and Marnie, but it doesn’t explain how later, when I was sprawled out naked on Lucas’ bed, I didn’t make the connection. Couldn’t piece together his identity when all of the clues were staring me in the face.

Can someone truly be blinded by lust? Apparently so.

Slow heat creeps up the side of my neck. Marnie mistakes it for fear and rubs the small of my back. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, softly. “Austin was out of line and we’ll deal with him.”

Fresh guilt shakes through me, because I haven’t told my friends the whole truth. Maybe I didn’t ask for Lucas to be my hero, but I didn’t stop him either—and instead of going home, gathering my wits, I went willingly, like a damn puppet, to his warm bed.

But no way in hell I’ll admit that to Liz and Marnie.

Not after the way we’ve talked—seethed—about men like Lucas Hammer. Savvy, cutthroat businessmen who lead empty, vacuous lifestyles that border on absurdity. In my mind, I picture Lucas’ vast collection of heavy metal memorabilia, the extravagance of his décor, the price tags on the very clothes on my back, and my stomach roils.

Lucas Hammer is exactly the kind of man I’ve vowed never to date, let alone fuck. My brain tried to warn me, but logic was overridden by unbridled desire. I didn’t just want Lucas’s hands on me, I practically begged for it. And even now, with the truth of his identity on full display, I still want him.

Damn it.

My mind rewinds time to that first kiss, the way my knees buckled as his mouth met mine, electricity vibrating on our lips. I think about his muscled torso hovering above me while his cock pounds my pussy like a piston, and my thighs clench in response.

Fuck.

I can’t keep rehashing this.

It shouldn’t matter that Lucas gave me the kind of sex even my overactive brain couldn’t have imagined, this—these ridiculous fantasies—have to stop. Now.

But then it hits me that I wasn’t given the chance to end it. It was over between Lucas and I before it really began. Because the second I mentioned Rubberneckers, he grew distant and cold. Maybe we could have worked through the differences of our social stature, but Daylight Holdings has an already tense relationship with the media, and much as I hate to admit it, our magazine has slid down the slippery slope toward “tabloid” journalism and become the kind of publication guys like Lucas Hammer sneer at with disgust.

I recognize it now, that disdain I saw on his face.

If only I could hang on to that expression instead of the way he stared at me with unabashed lust before claiming my mouth, my body, and my heart for his own. I blink clear the visions, and blow out a breath.

“Don’t worry, Eden, we’ll handle Austin,” Liz says, calmer now. “If that weasel sets foot in this place, he’ll be getting a stiletto up his asshole.”

I stare at my computer screen, avoiding her gaze. Liz is the most perceptive out of the three of us—one false move and my composure will erode like sandstone in the wind. My heart beats like a jackhammer.

“I’ll have someone in to change the locks immediately,” she adds, switching to business mode. I always thought I was the practical one, but my actions over the past day prove otherwise. Impulsive. Reckless. These aren’t words I’ve ever used to describe myself, but I suddenly feel like a poster child for rebellious behavior.

“Something tells me he’ll stay away,” I say.

Marnie giggles nervously. “After the beating he got, I wouldn’t blame him.”

Liz taps her fingernail on my desk. “That rage in Lucas…” Her voice trails off. She clucks her tongue, contemplating. “Something there we can use? Is there any way we can plant a bug that he’s stressed out, maybe speculate that the company isn’t doing so good? Start that rumor?”

My throat swells.

Marnie calls up the Page 6 article of last night’s bar fight, the image of Austin’s bloodied face taking up most of the screen. “I don’t know, guys,” she says, shivering. “Anger like that needs a venting portal and I don’t think we need to be on the butt end of that.”

Liz nods. “Good point. It’s probably best we just steer clear of Daylight Holdings for now—especially Lucas Hammer. Am I right?”

My breath comes out in a slow hiss. Frankly, Liz has no idea at all how right she is.

Chapter 6

A giant chandelier winks at me from the center of a room bustling with suits and gowns, a cheeky reminder that I don’t quite belong here amid the sparkle. I touch my neck, fingering the unfamiliar diamond necklace I borrowed from Marnie. It’s like a brick against my throat.

I stand straight—six inches taller in these ridiculous stilettos—and scope out the room in search of a familiar face, silently cursing my business partners for the stupid game of “straws” that landed me this dumb assignment. “The Pearl” is one of New York’s most luxurious hotels, rich with gold and glittery accents. Standing in the ornate lobby is enough to make me break out in hives, let alone in one of its fancy ballrooms, mingling with some of the wealthiest and most influential finance executives in The Big Apple.

But that’s not even the worst of it.

There’s a strong chance Lucas Hammer and his business partners will make an appearance tonight, and the thought of seeing Lucas again makes a cold sweat break out across my naked back. A shiver zigzags down my spine.