When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(40)

“Your means? You’re an extremely wealthy woman.”

She sniffed and averted her gaze. “It just so happens my father doesn’t agree with my plans for moving here. He’s cut me off.”

A tense silence ensued in which she found it difficult to meet Lucien’s gaze.

“I specifically asked you if you had enough money to live in this city.”

“I do have enough.”

“I meant do you have enough funds to live in this city in a safe, reasonable manner. You knew exactly what I meant.

“How was I to know what you meant?”

“Because I meant what most sane adults would mean,” he boomed, taking her off guard. She didn’t step back or flinch in holding his stare, but it was difficult in those tense ensuing seconds. Something else entered his expression. Was it helplessness? He closed his eyes briefly and glanced away. “This is a dangerous neighborhood. I can’t believe you’ve been living here.”

“It’s not dangerous,” she said stubbornly, her glance bouncing away when he gave her an incredulous look. He reached into his jacket pocket. “I assume this is yours?” he asked, handing her the watch she’d tried to give the taxi driver for payment.

“Where did you find it?” she asked, her head lowered as she studied the watch, even though her entire focus was on Lucien.

“On the stairs. Baden dropped it. Why did he have your watch? Did he steal it from you?”

She stared sightlessly at the floor. She’d left out the part in her report to the police about her trying to give the taxi driver the watch for payment. Now she knew why she’d omitted that portion. She hadn’t wanted Lucien to hear it. It was strange, but she honestly hadn’t realized how potentially dangerous flashing around an expensive watch in this neighborhood could be.

Not until she considered her behavior through Lucien’s eyes.

“Elise?” he asked pointedly. “Why did Baden have this watch? You weren’t wearing it at Ian and Francesca’s.”

She blinked, but her surprise faded quickly enough. Lucien took note of the smallest details.

“I . . . I didn’t have enough money for the cab fare,” she said lamely.

An awful silence swelled.

“So you came up to your room to get something to give the taxi driver in lieu of payment, and you chose a designer watch worth several thousand dollars? Are you mad, flashing expensive jewelry like that around in this neighborhood?”

“It was the most reasonable thing I had to bargain with!”

“And Baden recognized that it was a valuable watch and took it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, shame stealing her voice.

“Baden was smart enough to realize that if you were willing to throw away a Cartier watch, there was even more valuable treasure to be had,” he said, glancing at the antique jewelry box on the dresser.

She closed her eyes in mortification. What might that lowlife have done to her if Lucien hadn’t shown up?

Go home, a voice in her head taunted. Get married. Let someone else take care of you. You always make a mess of doing it yourself.

“What are you thinking, Elise?”

She met his gaze, chin tilted up proudly even though he had to see the irksome tears in her eyes. “The same thing you are, more than likely. That I should just run home to Paris before I cause some real damage.”

His rocklike expression collapsed for a moment so brief, she thought she’d imagined it. He stepped forward and took her into his arms.

“That’s not what I was thinking. Don’t give up now,” he said near her ear, his voice low and full of . . . regret? Concern? She couldn’t say for sure. All she knew was that it felt like heaven to be in his arms. She put her cheek next to his chest and inhaled shakily when his long fingers threaded through her hair. He smelled so good—like clean soap, his addictive cologne, and just the hint of his former arousal. Her body stirred to life of its own accord as she recalled their illicit tryst at the penthouse. His hand moved. The back of her head seemed to fit perfectly in his palm.

“I’m sorry, Lucien. I would never want you to be hurt,” she said in a muffled voice as she tried to control the full feeling in her chest.

“I know that,” he said, his voice like roughened silk. “It’s not me I’m concerned about. It’s you. You are too impulsive at times. All you had to do was ask me for financial assistance.”

“I didn’t think I needed any.”

She felt his fingers on her chin and looked up reluctantly.

“Well, you were wrong, weren’t you?” He looked down at her with a hooded gaze. Her nipples pulled tight against his ribs. “I owe you a punishment for your impulsivity. I also owe you pleasure, for having pleased me so well earlier. Take off all of your clothes, Elise,” he said quietly.

“What?” Her heart paused in its drumming to do a leap. Blood rushed into her cheeks.

“You heard me,” he replied.

He’d done it. He’d made her completely speechless. Her fingers seemed to have gone numb as she began to unloop the rope of pearls from around her neck. What was this feeling that swamped her? Was it shame? No . . . it was shyness. Her—Elise Martin—shy and awkward.

She wouldn’t have thought it a possibility. But it wasn’t just any man.