Page 7 of Lucas (The Valeur Billionaires #2)

Chapter Six

AVA

I yank open the front door and slam it shut again.

“Ouch! Is that how you greet all your guests?” Lucas’s muffled voice carries through the wood, his foot wedged in the gap, preventing the door from closing.

I roll my eyes and wrench the door back open. “You’re not a guest. What are you doing here? And how did you get my address? This is stalking, you know.”

He smirks, unruffled. “I told you, I have a business proposition for you. And I have my ways of obtaining information.”

“And I already told you, I’m not interested. Move your foot before I break it.” I put my weight behind the door, fully prepared to crush his toes.

He arches a brow. “You wouldn’t.”

Challenge accepted.

I throw my weight against the door, trying to force it closed with all my might .

“Fuck!” Lucas yelps, yanking his foot back. He hops on one leg, face contorted in pain as he clutches his injured limb.

I allow myself a satisfied smile before moving to shut the door again before he can stop me.

“Open the damn door, Ava!” He grunts, his voice strained. “I just want to talk.”

I ignore him.

“Open the door, or I’m fucking breaking it down.”

I lean my forehead against the wood. “And using physical intimidation is your idea of talking, is it?”

A beat of silence. Then, “You’re right. I apologize. So how about this? Open the door, or I’m going to the press about Gant Construction’s situation. Everyone will know you’re on the verge of bankruptcy. Within a week, you won’t have any employees left.”

I fling the door open, seething through clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Against my better judgment, I sigh and step back, allowing the door to swing open. Lucas straightens, a smug grin plastered across his handsome face. Bastard.

“You have ten minutes to state your case. And if you try anything funny, I’ll scream so loud they’ll hear me in Timbuktu.” I fold my arms across my chest, glowering up at him.

He chuckles as he strides past me into the foyer. “Sweetheart, if I have a woman screaming, it’s usually more like ‘Harder, Lucas’ or ‘I’m coming.’”

I resist the urge to gag. Or punch him. Or both. The absolute nerve of this man. “You’re disgusting. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth. ”

“Is that so?” His blue eyes glitter with challenge as he invades my personal space, crowding me back against the wall. The heat of his body seeps into mine, his crisp cologne flooding my senses. “Shall we test that theory?”

My traitorous heart stutters in my chest, my body sparking to life at his proximity. I swallow hard, hating my visceral reaction to him. I’d rather die a painful death than admit he affects me.

I plant my hands on his solid chest and shove him away, ignoring the way my palms tingle at the contact. “Say what you want to say and get out.”

“Bossy. I like it.” His smirk widens to a full-blown grin as he backs off, hands raised in mocking surrender.

I wrap my thin silk robe tighter around my body, hyperaware of my state of undress. Of course, he would show up unannounced, catching me in my nightclothes.

Lucas makes a slow turn around my living room, taking in the expensive furnishings and tasteful decor with an appraising eye. No doubt comparing it to his own lavish estate. Rich bastard.

He meanders over to the plush leather couch and plops down like he owns the place, spreading his arms across the backrest. “I’ll take a beer if you have one.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t.”

He shrugs. “Pity. Would have been a lot more pleasant to discuss this over drinks, but have it your way.”

A flash of bright plumage catches my eye, and suddenly Cartman is there, perched on the arm of the sofa. His beady gaze fixes on Lucas, neck ruff puffing up in clear agitation.

Lucas recoils, eyeing my parrot. “What the fuck is that?”

Not so cocky now, is he?

I hide a smirk. “Lucas, meet Cartman. Cartman, say hello.”

The African Gray cocks his head. “Hello, fuckface!” he squawks.

Lucas’s brow shoots up to his hairline. “Cartman? As in...Eric Cartman? From South Park ?”

“Yes, pigfucker.” Cartman preens, looking quite pleased with himself.

A surprised bark of laughter escapes Lucas. “Oh, that’s priceless. Let me guess, you taught him those colorful phrases?”

“Not exactly,” I hedge. “He came to me with that vocabulary preinstalled.”

“Shit ass!” Cartman interjects. “Shit ass!”

I wince. “His previous owner was...colorful.”

Lucas smirks. “Well, I can see why you two get along.”

I shoot him a glare, unamused by the comparison. “Hilarious. Now if you’ll excuse me a moment...”

I hold out my arm for Cartman, who hop-flutters over and digs his talons into my skin. “Let’s get you back to your room, hmm?” I murmur, stroking his soft head.

“Suck my balls!” he trills, nuzzling into my hair.

I carry him to the back bedroom that doubles as his aviary, ignoring Lucas’s amused expression.

After settling Cartman onto his favorite perch with strict instructions to use his inside voice, I return to the living room.

Leaving Lucas Valeur alone and unsupervised in my personal space, even for a moment, seems like a glaring tactical error.

Who knows what bugs or hidden cameras he’s planted in my absence?

Paranoid, perhaps, but I wouldn’t put anything past him .

I find him as I left him, splayed across my couch like the King of the World, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression.

He glances up as I enter, a single eyebrow raising. “I assume the foul-mouthed chicken is secured?”

“He’s a parrot,” I correct. “An African Gray. And yes. Not that it’s any business of yours.”

“Just making sure. Wouldn’t want him to interrupt our...negotiation.” His voice dips suggestively on the last word.

I cross my arms over my chest and level him with my frostiest glare, determined not to rise to his bait. “Enough. Either tell me what you want or get out of my house.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouts, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “Fine. Straight to the point, then.”

He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees. All traces of playfulness vanish from his face, replaced by a shrewd intensity that kicks my pulse into overdrive. This is the real Lucas Valeur, I realize. The shark behind the smile.

“Our little chat made quite a buzz,” he says. “That photo of us at the restaurant has the gossip mill working overtime. We’re the talk of the town, the star-crossed lovers the public never knew they needed.”

I frown, unease prickling along my spine. “So? What does that have to do with me?”

A slow, wicked smile curves his mouth. “Well, they’re not the only ones giddy at the thought of a Gant-Valeur empire merger. The Valeur board is practically pissing themselves over it. They think we’re a match made in corporate heaven. The ultimate power couple. ”

I stare at him, the pieces refusing to click into place. He can’t possibly be suggesting...

“I need a wife, Ava. And you’re going to be it.”

The world tilts on its axis. I grip the back of an armchair to keep from staggering, a hysterical bubble of laughter clawing up my throat as I sink into the chair.

“I’m sorry, I think I just hallucinated. Could you repeat that last bit? Because it sounded an awful lot like you just proposed marriage.”

“Marriage of convenience,” he clarifies, having the audacity to look impatient.

As if I’m the one being absurd. “It appears that my habit of seeking adventure is considered a disadvantage. They want reassurance of my ability to settle down—to put the company first. A wife would lessen their fears of my...impulsivity.”

“You can’t possibly think I would agree to this insanity. To shackling myself to you in some kind of sham marriage. For what? Your professional gain? I’d rather set myself on fire.”

He must be joking. I study his face—the sharp jawline tightening, lips pressed into a firm line. He doesn’t look like he’s joking.

He looks like a statue that should be up in a central square for everyone to admire his beauty. I would smash it with rocks.

He clicks his tongue. “So dramatic. And here I thought you were the pragmatic one. Just hear me out. We would only need to keep up appearances in public. Smile for the cameras, and attend some events arm in arm, but behind closed doors, it would be strictly a business relationship. No expectations beyond playing our roles. ”

I fold my arms across my chest, an unladylike snort escaping me. “Oh, is that all? Piece of cake. I should have no problem pretending to be madly in love with the man who makes my skin crawl. You’re right, that doesn’t sound like hell on earth at all.”

One corner of his mouth kicks up. “You say that, but your body is telling a different story. Your pulse has kicked up a few notches since I walked in. You keep uncrossing and recrossing your legs. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s not revulsion you’re feeling right now, but...attraction?”

His blue eyes glitter, and I curse my fair skin as a hot flush creeps up my chest to my cheeks.

Asshole. I want to smack the smug look right off his stupidly perfect face.

“You’re delusional. I’m not attracted to you. I’m shocked and appalled by the sheer audacity of this ridiculous scheme of yours.” So what if my traitorous body sometimes reacts to his bone-deep sexiness on a purely primal level? It means nothing. I still can’t stand him.

He shrugs. “I’m not looking for love, Ava.

Love is a weakness, a distraction. It hands people the power to manipulate you, to bring you to your knees.

I have no use for it.” Something dark and painful flashes across his eyes before it’s quickly shuttered away behind his usual veneer of calculated charm.

“Let me make this simple for you,” he says. “I need a wife to secure my position as CEO. You need an influx of capital to keep Gant Construction from going under.”

My heart stutters in my chest. I’ve just tumbled down the rabbit hole and landed in some bizarre alternate universe .