Chapter 6

I decided to screw up on purpose. It was my pathetic little form of protest.

Soon, my protest had an effect. Lucas's gaze fell on me more and more frequently. He came over again and again, patiently correcting my movements.

He had to have noticed. My deliberate mistakes, my quiet rebellion. So why wasn't he getting angry?

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I dropped the gun onto the padded table. "If you weren't joking when you said you wanted me to be your woman," I challenged him, "then you need to show some real intention."

Lucas patiently put the gun back into my hand, wrapped his arms around me from behind, and said, "I'm teaching you how to protect yourself. Isn't that sincere enough?"

I tilted my head, a small, instinctive movement to let his chin rest more comfortably on my shoulder.

The heat of his breath ghosted across my cheek, and a familiar warmth bloomed low in my belly, spreading through me like a slow-burning fire.

I couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "You know that's not what I want."

A soft chuckle vibrated through his chest, making my heart do a traitorous flutter. "That day will come," he promised. "But not now."

"Why not?"

The contract flashed in my mind. "I'm a willing participant," I reminded him, my voice a little desperate. "You don't have to be responsible for me."

His finger came up to press against my lips, silencing me. I was completely captivated by his eyes, so deep and impossibly clear. "I said no, and I meant it. But don't worry," he added, his gaze softening, "I won't make you wait too long."

I had no idea what his version of not too long was, but a wave of frustration, and worse, disappointment, crashed over me.

Sensing my mood, Lucas leaned down and gave me a soft, chaste peck on the lips, a gesture meant to soothe a pouting child. "That's enough for today. There's a dinner party tonight. You're coming with me."

A party?

Was he actually taking me to an important event?

A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I leaned back against his solid chest. "Who's going to be there?"

"Relax," he said, his hand giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. "It's just a private dinner for the Costa family."

The knot loosened slightly. I hadn't been to any kind of formal gathering since Isabella came back. I just hoped tonight would go smoothly.

Before we walked in, my nerves were shot. My palms were slick with sweat.

Lucas must have felt my tension because he gave my hand a firm, grounding squeeze as we followed the impeccably dressed host into the main hall.

He'd called it a private dinner, but the room was teeming with people.

Women floated by in magnificent evening gowns, their jewels catching the light of the chandeliers, glittering like captured stars. They moved with an innate grace, every gesture exuding an air of old-money elegance.

The men, uniformly handsome in tailored dark suits, were a study in quiet power, dutifully fetching champagne for their dates.

Even though no one knew who I was, guests would offer polite smiles and nods in my direction. I knew it was all because of the man standing beside me.

I glanced sideways at him. Lucas wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile, looking less like a person and more like a captivating portrait in a museum, the one piece of art everyone stops to admire.

In a room full of striking people, he was still the main event.

Which was probably why someone had the guts to approach him, even though he clearly had a date on his arm.

"Mr. Costa." A blonde woman in a floor-length gown stopped us. She was holding a flute of champagne, but her eyes held a much more intoxicating promise.

Even more stunning than her face was her dress. The fabric clung to her every curve, and as she moved, the deep V-neckline offered a tantalizing glimpse of the swell of her breasts. It was impossible not to notice.

She glided to a stop in front of us, her eyes flicking to me as if she'd only just registered my presence. "And this is…?"

Lucas's arm tightened around my waist, pulling me so close I was plastered against his side. "My date."

"I see."

My intuition was screaming. This woman saw me as the enemy.

I raised my own champagne flute, about to say something, anything, but she cut me off, issuing a dismissal disguised as a request. "I'd like a private word with Mr. Costa. You don't mind, do you?"

She took a self-satisfied sip of her champagne, her eyes narrowing as she sized me up, dripping with disdain.

I wanted to mind. God, I wanted to tell her to get lost. But what right did I have?

"You two talk," I said, shrugging out of Lucas's hold and turning away.

Once I was free, a surprising number of men asked me to dance. I turned them all down without a second thought.

After what felt like an appropriate amount of time, I went to find Lucas. I found him right where I'd left him, listening as the blonde purred a last, hopeful invitation. "Are you sure you won't come back to my place? I got my hands on some fun new toys. I know you'd love them."

Lucas's voice was low and dangerously ambiguous. "Next time. I promise I'll make it up to you next time."

It felt like I'd been struck by lightning. So that was it. The reason he'd rejected me, time and time again, was that he had other women on the side.

A hot, furious jealousy surged through me. On pure impulse, I grabbed the arm of the nearest man passing by—the same one who'd asked me to dance earlier. "You wanted my number, right? Do what I say, and it's yours."

I pressed myself against him. The scent of his cologne was overpowering, his nose looked a little crooked, and why on earth was a grown man wearing lip gloss?

I was about to shove him away when the image of Lucas flirting with that woman flashed in my mind. A fresh wave of anger crested, and I grabbed his lapels. "What are you waiting for? Are you going to—"

Before I could finish, my feet left the floor. Lucas had swept me up, his arm a steel band around my waist.

He gave my ass a sharp, stinging swat. "What am I, invisible?" He growled, his jaw tight.

I started hitting him, biting his shoulder, my voice cracking with unshed tears. "Let me go! You can have anyone you want, so what right do you have to tell me what to do?"

He just strode faster, heading for an empty, shadowed alcove. My body jostled with every angry step he took. It wasn't until my feet were back on solid ground that I felt like I could breathe again.

Lucas's kiss was an invasion. I tried to fight him, to push him away, but my defenses crumbled in under a minute.

He was like a teenager tasting forbidden fruit for the first time, fumbling urgently with the hem of my dress, his hand sliding underneath.

My attempt to push him off only gave him better access. His tongue was a slick, nimble serpent, exploring every inch of my mouth, stealing my breath, devouring me whole.

I could feel the searing heat of his body and his desire. His hand roamed over my skin before coming to rest on the small of my back, pressing me impossibly closer.

When he finally pulled back, I felt like I'd been dragged from a river, soaked and breathless, head thrown back as I gasped for air.

My body betrayed me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, a silent, desperate plea. "Still no?" I whispered.

His kisses trailed down my throat, over my collarbone, a burning path along my skin until he reached the flat plane of my stomach.

A jolt of pure electricity shot from my limbs straight to my core. I shuddered uncontrollably. "Lucas."

I loved saying his name in moments like this, when I was completely undone.

"I told you I could help you, why would you go looking for other men?"

I wanted to explain, but waves of pleasure were crashing over me, making speech impossible.

Lucas's tongue swirled circles on my belly, and I let out a sound so shameful I barely recognized it as my own. I wanted to run, but I was desperate for him to stay.

My hands fisted in his hair, my fingers digging into his scalp.

I didn't have to say a word. He understood.

He lifted his head, his eyes gleaming in the darkness like a predator's, a black panther not yet satisfied.

A wickedly tempting smile played on his lips. I was so lost in it, I almost didn't register what he said. "Do you like my tongue?"

It took a second for the words to sink in. I was about to nod when he suddenly dropped to his knees, lifting my hips.

Panicked that someone might see, I fumbled to push my skirt back down.

But then, he dipped his head forward. I looked down at the dark shape of his head nestled between my thighs, and a jolt of pure, thrilling anticipation shot through me. Was he going to…