Page 21
My gods, she hadn’t been kidding about having nothing worth drinking on hand.
She uncorked the bottle and took a whiff, then winced. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m judging you,” I said without hesitation. “Viciously.”
She lifted it to her nose and sniffed it again. “Smells like there’s some blood in it. Not sure how good it’ll be.”
Isadora took a sip, and her nose wrinkled.
“That bad?” I asked.
“Worse.” She took another sip anyway. “But it burns, and right now, that’s my only requirement.”
She offered me the bottle, but I politely declined. Instead, I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the bar. “You can’t stay here tonight, Isadora.”
She didn’t immediately answer. Just stared at the bottle in her hand. After a few moments, she finally said, “I’ve already lost everything, Lucien. I won’t lose my bar too. This place is mine, and I’ll fight for it.”
Her voice cracked, just a little, at the end. This was important to her. I could understand that. No one could pry me from The Crimson Veil if I didn’t permit it. Seemed she’d developed a similar relationship to this unnamed bar of hers.
So, I nodded. “Then I’ll station someone outside.”
Her gaze snapped to mine.
“Someone discreet,” I added. “They’ll keep watch, just in case.”
Another pause.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But if they spook Bernard, you’re dealing with the consequences.”
“Of course,” I said, utterly serious. “I wouldn’t dream of offending your chandelier.”
Her lips twitched again. A real smile this time, though exhausted.
I stood slowly, smoothing the front of my suit jacket. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll handle the rest.”
She didn’t thank me. Of course she didn’t. That would’ve been too easy.
But as I turned to leave, her soft voice stopped me.
“Lucien.” She didn’t rise from her stool. Just looked at me, her pitiful bottle in hand. “I still don’t know what to make of you.”
That made two of us.
I stared at her for a heartbeat. Then I decided—fuck it.
In one step, I stood in front of her.
She blinked, startled but not frightened. I reached down and took the bottle from her hand. My fingers brushed hers as I set her drink down on the bar.
Her gaze followed my movements. But she didn’t pull away. Nor did she tell me to take a hike.
I lifted my hand and tilted her chin up. Her eyes, stormy and uncertain, searched mine.
A smarter man might have walked away—Isadora came with a lot of baggage.
A better man would have left her alone—she needed time to rebound from her failed mating bond.
But right now, at this moment, I was neither smart nor better.
Because, gods help me, I wanted her. There was something about her that captivated me, despite my mother’s warnings, despite the developing situation, despite the fact that we were soon to be rival business owners.
I didn’t want to play the role of the monster.
I wanted to be the savior— her savior. I wanted to be the one she leaned on and confided in.
And if ever she gifted me with her trust, I would never betray it. Not like he had.
My parents would call me weak and sentimental. Juliette had already voiced her concerns. Loudly. But I didn’t care. I wanted Isadora.
So, I kissed her.
And my whole fucking world imploded.
Her lips were even softer than I expected, and warmer. They molded perfectly against mine. Usually, this was where I would take control—claim her mouth, dominate the pace, remind us of who was stronger. But Isadora unraveled something inside me, something I hadn’t realized needed unraveling.
I wanted to take things slow with her. Show her that I could give as much as I could take. I wanted to be that rock for her.
When my other arm slipped around her waist, her breath caught, and her lips parted against mine.
She slipped her hand inside my suit jacket, her fingers skimming over my dress shirt, her palm pressing lightly against my side.
A simple touch—through a layer of fabric—and still, it felt like she branded me.
I instinctively deepened the kiss, chasing the feeling.
I needed more. Needed her . I cupped the back of her neck, threading my fingers through her hair and anchoring her to me.
Her hand gripped my shirt and pulled me closer.
And, oh, did I go willingly— too willingly.
She fit perfectly against me, like she belonged here.
She hungrily kissed me back, like a woman starved with a raw, aching need that matched my own. I could devour her right here and now—gods, I wanted to—but I also needed to show some restraint. Prove that I was worthy of her.
It took more willpower than I even knew I possessed, but I finally tore my mouth from hers with a sharp breath and rested my forehead against hers. We stared at each other while our chests heaved like we’d run a marathon.
I wanted more . But she wasn’t ready.
And truthfully, neither was I.
“I should go,” I rasped.
“Or…you could stay,” she whispered. “Then you wouldn’t have to send someone else to watch the place.”
I groaned, because I desperately wanted that. I would love nothing more than to spend the night with her. To fall asleep in that crumbling loft upstairs with her folded in my arms. To pretend, just for tonight, that we were the only two people who existed in this world.
“If I stay…” I began, my voice husky, “and this keeps going the way I want—the way I hope you want…”
I trailed off and Isadora raised her brows.
“You’ve been through a lot. And you’re going through more right now. I don’t want to stop, but you deserve more than someone who’ll jump into bed with you at the first opportunity. I want to earn this. Earn you .”
She said nothing, and her expression didn’t give me any clues.
“I’m not leaving because I don’t want you,” I said. “I’m leaving because I do.” I dropped my hand from her neck and took a step back. It physically hurt to put distance between us. But I didn’t give in to my desires. I would show her that I could be something more . Someone worthy of her.
“Lock the door behind me,” I said, my voice still gruff.
Then I left.
Because that was the right thing to do. And because if I didn’t leave now, I never would.
Fuck, doing the right thing sucked .
Table of Contents
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- Page 20
- Page 21 (Reading here)
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