Page 38 of Sacrifice
Inexplicably, it felt like the only way she could have behaved. In the moment, there had been no thought of anything else, just his hands on her skin. Her memories wandered on to the parking garage, beingfucked over the Porsche. That gave her pause. She bit at her lip and quelled laughter.
Christ. Who am I?
The bedroom door opened and brought her out of her reverie. Lucien backed into the room, holding a breakfast tray.
“You’re awake, excellent,” he said and set the tray down on the bed. A dark wave of hair flopped over his forehead, and he brushed it back. Eve’s gaze ran over his olive skin and the gentle shadow of stubble on his chin. God, he was handsome. He directed her gaze to the tray. Coffee, orange juice, and croissants. “I have plans for you,” he said.
“Is that right?” Eve raised a single eyebrow at him.
“Not that kind of plan. These require clothes.” He settled next to her to lean against the headboard. He took up both glasses of orange juice and passed one to her.
Eve shuffled up the bed to join him. She’d have to keep a lid on her desires for a while. They both sipped at their juice.
“As we had such a successful evening, I thought today we ought to celebrate with a little rest and relaxation,” Lucien said.
“It has been terribly hard work,” Eve replied, almost managing to keep her face straight.
“Hard for one of us, anyway.” He was definitely holding back a grin. “I really do need a rest from all your demands,” he said with a feigned sigh. “Thought I’d show you the sights and buy you a little lunch.”
“Very civilized,” Eve said with a nod. “I shall try to control myself.”
Lucien kissed her forehead and got up from the bed. “Driver’s coming in half an hour, so chop chop.”
“Half an hour?”Christ.
“What? You don’t need to do much. A splash about in the shower. Run a brush through your hair…”
“Do you know anything about women?” She said, incredulously. Then she saw his impish expression on his face. “Never mind.”
Paris at Christmastimewas a winter wonderland. The previous evening’s rain had become a sparkling frost along the Champs-Élysées, which stretched away into the distance toward the Arc de Triomphe. Quite a view.
They strolled arm in arm through the Tuileries Garden, festive lights twinkling all around. It was magical. Eve hugged at herself. She felt like she’d stepped into a fairytale.
“This way I think,” said Lucien, “TheAllée Centrale.” He guided them down a broad, paved walkway that thrummed with people. Shoppers and tourists jostled for the speediest route to their destinations, but Eve and Lucien were in no such hurry. They took their time, Lucien dictating the leisurely pace, pointing out statues or distant landmarks as they wandered. He was quite at ease—a very different person to the drivenbusinessman she’d come to recognize, or the fierce lover of the night before. He put an arm around her.
”Are you warm enough?”
The chill Eve had been feeling was a small price to pay. “I’m fine,” she said, “More than fine.”
He eyed her suspiciously, and it felt to Eve like he was scanning her for any discomfort he could fix. He picked up the pace a little. “I know what you need.”
“Really, I’m fine,” Eve insisted.
“Shopping.” He grinned.
“Oh well, in that case.” She matched his stride.
A big wheel cut a disc into the skyline ahead and the soft lilt of carolers rode the air with the scent of dry caramel. Somewhere chestnuts were roasting.
“There’s a Christmas market!” Eve said, delighted. They approached it around the fountains and stopped to browse the stalls. Eve didn’t notice that Lucien had stepped away until he returned, clutching two steaming cups of mulled wine.
She laughed. “It’s kind of early, isn’t it?”
“Six o’clock somewhere.” He pressed one into her hand and tapped his own gently against it. “À votre santé.”
She took a sip. It was rich and cinnamony. “Mmm.”
He gave her a wink. “Anything catch your eye?”
