Page 24 of Lucas (The Valeur Billionaires #2)

Chapter Seventeen

LUCAS

I fasten the last button on my tuxedo shirt and adjust my bowtie. Tonight is the charity gala, our first public outing as husband and wife.

I told Ava she could choose her gown, and now I’m second-guessing that decision. She could easily pick something to embarrass me.

I hope we don’t need to argue about her attire—we’re already running late. Glancing at my watch, I lift my head.

Fuck me.

Ava glides toward me, a vision in a tailored crimson dress that clings to her curves, the hem touching the floor. The strapless sweetheart neckline bares her shoulders and a tantalizing hint of cleavage.

My heart rate kicks up a notch.

How is it possible she’s completely covered and elegant, yet all I can think about is how badly I want to peel that dress off her body? How good she’ll look when I do?

Her lips, painted to match the gown, look full and tempting.

I stand frozen, captivated by the sight of her. I want to conquer her more than anything I’ve ever craved. The need intensifies every day I’m near her.

“Ready?” I break the charged silence, my voice a touch deeper than usual.

She nods, and we head out. I want to get the door for her, but she beats me to it, folding herself into the passenger seat.

Sighing, I slide behind the wheel and fire up the Jag. The powerful engine purrs to life, and I savor the sound for a moment before pulling out of the drive.

“You’re quiet,” I remark after a few minutes of strained silence.

No response. She stares out the window, avoiding my gaze.

“Planning to give me the silent treatment all night?”

Ava turns to face me, emerald eyes narrowed. “That’s the idea, yes.”

“Why?” I arch a brow, glancing at her before focusing back on the winding road.

“Because whenever you open your mouth, you piss me off, and I’d rather not have to pretend to be your adoring wife while seething with resentment.”

I smirk. “I’m sure a mind-blowing orgasm would cure that. Want me to pull over?”

Her scowl deepens. “And there it is. I knew that was coming.”

“What? ”

“You, turning everything into sexual suggestions. Let me guess. In your world, orgasms solve all of life’s problems?”

“More or less.” I shrug, the movement causing my shoulder to brush hers in the close confines of the car. She stiffens and angles her body away.

“Typical.” Ava shakes her head, annoyance radiating off her in waves. “Why did I expect anything different?”

“So you’re going to ignore me the entire ride?”

“No. You owe me a truth from our game, remember?”

I press my lips together. Right. Yesterday’s explosive kiss in the gym was worth indulging her in this silly game. “Fine. Ask your question then.”

Ava studies my profile for a long moment, worrying her plump bottom lip between her teeth. The small action shoots a bolt of pure lust straight to my groin.

“What’s your deepest, darkest fear?”

“Fear?” I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Bullshit. Everyone’s afraid of something. I don’t mean superficial crap like spiders or snakes. I mean something soul-deep, something that keeps you up at night. What are you so afraid of, Lucas, that you hide behind this constant stream of bravado and sexual remarks?”

“I’m not hiding anything. I just like sex. A lot. What’s so weird about that?” I turn my head to catch her gaze, holding it for a beat before focusing back on the road.

“We’re playing truth or dare. No lying.”

“I’m not.”

Ava just shakes her head, turning to look out the window again. “I see. You demand honesty from me but refuse to return the favor. Game over, I guess.”

I blow out a hard breath, my hands clenching the steering wheel. We’re married, and she signed a fucking ironclad NDA. I can say whatever I want.

But we’re still strangers. Perhaps that’s why I want to tell her. Because goddammit, for some inexplicable reason, I want to confide in her.

Something about the way Ava looks at me, really looks at me, with those striking green eyes framed by thick lashes. It’s like she sees past all my bullshit to the real me beneath. The broken parts I try so hard to hide.

She did it yesterday in the gym when I caught her before she fell—looked up at me with such soft, startled wonder. For a split second, I allowed myself to imagine I could be better. That she could make me want to be better, just to be worthy of her.

“I’m scared of turning into my dad,” I whisper, so low I’m not sure she hears it. But Ava whips her head around, eyes widening as she takes in my grim profile.

“My dad cheated on my mom. At least, I’m pretty damn sure he did. It torpedoed their marriage, fucked us all up.” It’s the first time I’ve given voice to that fear. To anyone.

Ava makes a small sound, resting her hand on my forearm. Her touch is fleeting, there and gone. “God, Lucas. I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” I shrug. “He’s the one who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Nothing was the same after that.”

“How do you know he cheated?” Her brow furrows.

“I remember how disgustingly in love they were before. Like a couple of teenagers, always laughing, always finding excuses to touch. It used to revolt me.” I grant a dry chuckle at the memory.

“Then, one day, it stopped. Like a switch got flipped and snuffed out the light. I’d catch my mom watching him with this look, so much distrust and pain in her eyes. She couldn’t stand to let him touch her. They acted like polite strangers, barely speaking. What else could it be?”

It destroyed her. Him. Even now, the memory has the power to carve out my insides.

I spent years telling myself I’d never be that guy.

Never get attached. Never let a woman sink her claws in deep enough to destroy me if she left as it did to Dad.

It’s why I fuck but never make love. Never spend the night. Always keep one foot out the door.

And now I’m fucking married to the enemy’s daughter. The irony.

“That sounds horrible. I’m sorry you went through that.” Ava’s soft voice drags me from the morose spiral of my thoughts. I’m surprised to discover her eyes are damp, lashes spiked with moisture.

“I never knew my mother,” she confesses after a moment. “She died when I was born.”

I knew that, of course. Read it in the extensive background report I had compiled when I was researching how best to destroy her father. It was just a footnote, a minor detail. But hearing her say it out loud, witnessing the flicker of old grief mar her lovely face...it hits differently.

I’m an asshole, but I’m not heartless.

“It must have been rough growing up without her.” I soften my tone. Ava’s never mentioned her mother to me before. But then, Ava doesn’t mention anything personal. We’re not exactly in the habit of having heart-to-hearts.

She lifts a slender shoulder, trying to affect a casual air, but I don’t miss the way her eyes go distant, a shadow darkening the vibrant green. “I didn’t know any different. I had to learn to stand for myself early on.”

I frown. “What do you mean? Where the hell was your dad?”

“Working. Building his empire. He didn’t have time to coddle me.” Her smile is bitter. “I knew better than to disturb him with trivial things like school events or childhood milestones. The rare times I did, he made it very clear that I was a nuisance. An irritating distraction.”

A muscle in my jaw ticks as cold anger licks up my spine. “What a fucking prick. Did he ever...?” I can’t bring myself to ask. The idea of anyone laying a hand on Ava, of her father mistreating her, makes me see red. Makes me want to pummel the son of a bitch with my bare hands.

“No. He never hit me, if that’s what you’re asking. Not that he needed to. Neglect is its own form of abuse.” She drops her gaze, twisting the glittering clasp of her evening bag.

Jesus. No wonder she has a well-earned distrust of men. Her father dangled her like a prize to be won, an acquisition, not cherishing her as a daughter. It makes me sick.

And here I am, the asshole who swooped in to collect that prize. I’m no better than him, using her as a pawn to destroy Gant.

For the first time, shame curdles in my gut at the thought.

“Ava. I’m sorry. You deserved so much better.” To my horror, my voice goes rough with emotion. I risk a glance at her, but she’s staring hard at her lap, a perfect, glistening tear balanced on her lush lower lashes.

“Yeah, well. We don’t always get what we deserve, do we?” She swipes at her eyes before pasting on a bright, fake smile. “It doesn’t matter. It’s ancient history.”

I can tell by the wobble in her voice it matters. That the wounds are still raw and weeping, even if she pretends otherwise.

I want to say something to comfort her, to soothe that little lost girl who still lives inside her. And yet I don’t have the first fucking clue where to start. I’m the last person in the world equipped to offer solace or softness. I destroy, I don’t heal.

That tight, squeezing sensation is back in my chest. It’s becoming harder to ignore. Harder to pretend Ava hasn’t delved deeper than any woman ever has.

It scares the shit out of me.

Thank Christ the valet stand comes into view, offering a much-needed distraction.

“We’re here,” I announce. “Remember, tonight you’re my loving wife. Smile pretty, laugh at my jokes, and fawn all over me.”

“I know the drill.” Ava’s voice goes arctic, annoyance wiping away the vulnerable girl of a moment ago. She smooths a hand down the front of her dress. “I signed your precious contract. You don’t need to remind me how to play my role.”

The contract. Right. She wouldn’t be here with me now if not for that devil’s bargain. And I’m only here to destroy her father and, by proxy, her.

Sentiment has no place in this arrangement. I need to get my head out of my ass and back in the game.

I square my shoulders and slide out of the car, handing the keys to the valet and circling around to Ava’s side. After a beat, she places her small hand in mine and allows me to help her out.