I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move, ensnared by the urgent pulse of his words.

“I wake up hard and aching, remembering how your sweet little nipple rose for me. Think about how I want to suck it again, fucking feast on you.”

We stared at each other, heat and tension coiling between us like a living thing, tugging at my nipples, stealing my breath. His chest rose and fell in agitation, color washing over the sculpted crests of his cheeks.

I wanted. I wanted so badly.

He swallowed audibly. “You haunt me, Emma. Every damn thing about you does.”

My fingers curled into a fist as blood rushed through my veins. “I think about you too. I’ve seen you bare but never got to touch. I want to.”

Lucian grunted an agonized sound of want.

My words came out breathless. “I think about it at night, when I’m alone.”

He closed his eyes, as though absorbing a hit. When they opened, the frosty green burned bright. “You don’t know what that does to me, honey.”

“Tell me.”

A lock of his inky hair fell over his brow as he turned his head with a jerk, giving me his strong profile. “I feel owned. By you. And I like it.”

I exhaled as my insides dipped.

But his expression hardened, the strong curve of his jaw bunching. “And I shouldn’t, Em. I shouldn’t.”

Recoiling, I blinked hard, not expecting that. Pride shouted that I hold my tongue, but I asked the question anyway. “Why?”

“Because you deserve better than me.” He grimaced but didn’t shy away from holding my gaze. “You deserve everything.”

“Lucian—”

But before I said another word, five of my former coworkers, drunk and cheerful, descended en masse.

“Emma love! There you are,” Danny shouted, oblivious of the tension humming between Lucian and me.

Lucian held my gaze for a brief moment longer, remorse and wry acceptance darkening his eyes. Then he rose, stopping only to touch my shoulder with the very tips of his fingers. His softly murmured words drifted down amid the racket. “I’m sorry, Em.”

It speared into my chest and left a hollow hole as he walked away, leaving me to deal with something far worse than talking about my cheating dickhead of an ex-boyfriend. I had to take a long slow walk down memory lane as my friends and costars decided that what I really needed was to be reminded of all that I’d lost.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Emma

“You picked a good one, Emma.” Delilah leaned back in the white wicker chair with a sigh, a glass of champagne in her hand. Fairy lights strung overhead gave the area a soft glow, but it was nothing compared to the luminous glow in her smile.

“I’d say you picked a good one.” I lifted my glass in cheers.

She tipped her glass to that but wouldn’t be dissuaded. “You don’t want to talk about your new man? I would. He’s gorgeous, talented, and clearly gone on you.”

My mind tripped over that last bit. Delilah didn’t know he wasn’t truly my man; Lucian and I had decided it would be easier to keep that to ourselves.

And that hurt. Because I knew without doubt that I was “gone on” Lucian. I started falling the second I laid eyes on him. It was stupid, stupid, stupid. He thought he didn’t deserve me and walked away, despite this overwhelming desire that simmered over anytime we got into each other’s orbit. The feel of his mouth on my nipple had remained for days, haunting me with need and lust. But where the flesh was willing, the mind was not. Lucian wasn’t going to give in. He’d made that perfectly clear.

Where did that leave me? Panting over him and making a fool out of myself. I had some pride. Some dignity.

I took a deeper drink of champagne and it fizzed down my throat, made me warm and sleepy. “Lucian and I aren’t serious. We barely know each other.”

Delilah took that partial lie with aplomb. “You brought him here. That’s huge.”

“It’s stupid, Dee.” With a sigh, I rolled my stiffening neck and blinked up at the lights. “He’s reluctant to be in any relationship.”

“But he came here with you—”

“As a favor.” I grimaced. “And when the weekend is over, we’ll go our separate ways, so to speak.” It wasn’t as though I could avoid him while staying with Amalie. I really needed to leave Rosemont and all its temptations. Getting back to real life as soon as possible was the smart, sane thing to do.

“I know I’m butting my nose in it,” Delilah said slowly. “And I won’t be offended if you tell me to piss off, but Greg didn’t light you up the way Luc does with one look. And you might not see it, but that man comes alive when you’re near.”

“Too bad about one small detail . . .” I held my thumb and pointer finger a few centimeters apart. “He’s emotionally walled up and unstable.”