Lucien’s eyes scanned the room again and went back to Edwina. “What happened?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the mess, lifted a hand from the sink and waved it around, slopping soapy water and bubbles on the floor, the counter, her shoulder.
“We had a fashion parade,” she explained bizarrely, ignoring the mess she made and went back to scouring. “Leah’s up in your bedroom.” Her voice dropped to a happy murmur, “Such a sweet, beautiful girl.”
Lucien studied his housekeeper.
Leah was hardly a girl. She was forty years old, for God’s sake.
She was, of course, beautiful. But sweet?
“How is she?” Lucien found himself asking and he had no earthly idea why.
He had also, in the years he’d employed Edwina, never requested such information.
Then again he’d never needed to.
“Oh, she’s fine. Settling in. She’s so cute. You should have seen her tonight. She was hilarious.”
Fascinated by the idea of a cute, hilarious, sweet Leah “settling in”, Lucien tired of the discourse with Edwina and headed for the stairs.
“Good night!” Edwina trilled gaily behind him.
Lucien didn’t reply.
Five strides into their room, Lucien saw Leah exiting the bathroom. He again halted.
She was wearing the lingerie he’d sent.
He saw he’d been wrong in his thoughts when he’d watched the stick thin model sashaying down the short runway displaying it at his personal showing when he was ordering Leah’s wardrobe the day after her Selection.
He had, in his mind, expected it to look far better on Leah’s generous curves.
However, he had not anticipated it looking that much better.
She was wearing her robe over it but the robe had fallen open at her sides exposing the camisole and pants. The cups of the camisole hugged her full breasts, the silk ending just above the nipple so a tantalizing hint of the aureole peeked through the lace, a chill in the air obviously causing her nipples to harden against the silk. It hugged her midriff and stomach like it had been made for her. The hem of the camisole left only a glimpse of smooth skin above the underwear. Her long legs went on forever beneath the lace of the panties.
He felt his body’s immediate response to the sight of her and he liked it.
Her face had been averted when she walked out of the bathroom but it snapped around, she focused on him and cried, “Lucien!”
Lucien only had a moment to brace before she flew at him, running flat out across the room and at the last instant launched herself full body at him.
Stunned and unsure of her intent, he caught her in his arms, his hands cupping her ass as she wrapped her long limbs around him.
Instead of attempting, however pointless such an effort would be, to tear him limb-from-limb, she caught his gaze and he noticed she, too, was under the influence.
Very much so.
“Hello, darling, how was your day?” she purred cheerfully, if drunkenly.
“Interesting,” he replied truthfully, this exact moment being indicative of his interesting day.
He was on guard, not certain what her game was.
His day had been interesting. Starting with the roller coaster ride of their morning and ending with Leah’s current behavior, it included an afternoon meeting with her aunts. A meeting where they explained their concern that they hadn’t heard from Leah after The Bloodletting. A meeting where he declared his intentions and ascertained their tentative allegiance. They were hesitant, considering what it might mean to the future of their family, indeed to the future of all concubines. But they were also not willing to defy him.
He wasn’t entirely surprised at this. They were Buchanans and obedience had been ingrained in them for centuries.
Leah’s hand moved to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, bringing his attention back to her.
“Mine was too,” she shared.
“Is that so?”
Her eyes went from his collar to his and she nodded. Fervently.
“And what did you do today, my pet?” he asked softly, reading her mood and relaxing into it.
“First off, I tried to escape.”
His relaxation fled and his body went solid but she didn’t notice and kept talking.
“I couldn’t, of course, you took my wallet, my passport, my jewelry, the keys to the car.” Her eyes narrowed on him and she declared, “It was very vexing.”
Her words, informative and not accusing, caused his body again to relax.
He struggled with the desire to laugh and won before he repeated, “Vexing?”
She nodded, smiling at him and he felt his body go solid again, “Yes. Vexing. Very.”
He wasn’t listening to her words. He was staring at her mouth.
He’d never seen her smile.
This wasn’t strictly true. He had, from a distance, many times in the last twenty years. He’d just never had it directed at him.
His body reacted to that too, in a way he very much liked.
He could remain standing holding her body to his for eternity (literally). But he walked her to the bed and sat on its edge, settling her into his lap, her soft curves pressing against his hardening cock.
He liked this too.
She was still talking. “Then the men arrived with the boxes. Lots of boxes. Lots and lots and lots.” She tipped her head to the side and queried, “Are you moving in?”
“Yes,” he replied and she nodded again, apparently perfectly content with this idea.
Her hands went to his shoulders and she started to tug off his suit jacket. He reluctantly let her go to assist her with getting it down his arms. All the while she did this, she was still babbling.
“Then Stephanie came over and, Lucien, you should have seen her outfit. It was the bomb.” Lucien felt his mouth twitch against the effort of smiling, her eyes dropped to it and she announced, “I like it when your mouth does that.”
He blinked at her slowly and asked, “Pardon?”
She threw the suit jacket unceremoniously to the end of the bed and then touched the corner of his mouth with her index finger too briefly and her eyes came to his. They were dancing.
“When you fight a smile. I like it. It’s sexy,” she explained.
Fucking hell, but she was magnificent.
He thought she was magnificent when she fought him and when he felt her fear of him and attraction to him. The challenge was exhilarating.
But she was even more magnificent now. He wouldn’t have believed this was possible but the evidence was sitting in his lap.
He didn’t like to feed when the mortal servicing him was inebriated. Tipsy, perhaps, downright drunk, no. And Leah was beyond inebriated, she was hammered.
She’d brushed her teeth, however, obviously very thoroughly. And her scent was strong enough to overpower the vodka he also caught mingling with her essence. Not to mention she was, as Edwina described her, hilarious, cute and definitely sweet.
Therefore, he decided to break his own rule and feed, regardless of the fact that she was smashed.
His hands went to her robe, pushing it wide over her shoulders and she didn’t hesitate with dropping her arms in an effort to aid him to rid her of it.
She also kept chattering. “Then Stephanie and I had a natter then we had some martinis then your other boxes came and we had a fashion parade. Then Stephanie stayed for dinner, we talked Edwina into having martinis with us and, because you sent a lot of boxes, we had even more of a fashion parade.” She stopped when her arms were loose from the robe and he let it drop to the floor. Both of her hands came back to his shirt and she began fiddling with his buttons but her eyes never left his as she continued happily, “I like Stephanie. She’s funny.”