Falling In (16 page)

Chapter 18

Friends

Lucian scowled at Scout the entire way back to the hotel. He blanketed her with his body as he ushered her through the lobby. They rode the elevators in silence. When they reached his suites he went right to the master bath and began to fill the tub.

“Strip.”

“Lucian—”

“I said strip.” His words were bit out, but she could sense his fear through his resounding fury. Living on the streets, she'd learned to see through people's acts. Hostility often veiled insecurity or fear. Lucian was being hostile because he was afraid. She just wasn't sure if his panic stemmed from possibly losing her or losing what she represented to him or just losing in general. Either way, she was there now.

She could tell he didn't want to say more, but his words came rushing out anyway. “What the hell were you doing there, Evelyn? Do you have any idea how dangerous places like that are? People die in that section of the city all the time. I told you that you were not to go back there—”

“I
live
there, Lucian.” The rush of water spilling from the faucet was the only sound. “I'm sorry, Lucian. I didn't want you to know. I'll leave.”

“Will you stop running away from me!” His fingers forked through his messy hair. “Just give me a minute to think.” He sat on the edge of the large Jacuzzi tub. “You live there?”

Pursing her lips she nodded slowly.

“Your paperwork said you lived in the apartments on Locus Street.”

“I needed a mailing address.”

Scout shifted her feet. She didn't want to sit or it would only make it harder to leave. “Look, none of this is your fault. As a matter of fact, you've been nothing but kind to me . . . sort of. I know you didn't know what you were getting into when you made your offer. I should've told you about my situation. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it, the shelter, causing you to worry, my virginity . . .”

His dark eyes drilled into her as the last word left her mouth. He shook his head slowly and whispered, “You're so innocent, Evelyn.”

Scout laughed. “Innocent is the last thing I am, Lucian. I've seen things that would make your skin crawl. Just because I've kept my nose clean doesn't mean—”

“You
are
innocent. I cannot allow you to go back to that place.”

She leaned past him and shut off the water. “It isn't your decision.”

“Why do you fight me at every turn?” He took her hands and held them tight. “I've never met someone more determined to do things the hard way.”

“I could say the same about you. Look, I'm not trying to be difficult. That isn't my intention. It just keeps happening that way. We're just
too
different, Lucian. You're beyond wealthy and I'm homeless. You're an extremely sexual person and I was a virgin twenty-four hours ago. You own a hotel. I clean in one. You're gorgeous and I'm—”

“Don't.” he interrupted, his gaze suddenly hard. “Just . . . don't. What if I told you, knowing all that, I still wanted you?”

Scout put down her bag. This was not going to be a quick thing. “Why, though? You could have anyone you want. I see the way women look at you. It could be so easy. You're deliberately picking the most complicated person you can find.”

“I enjoy the challenge,” he said, a trace of hollow humor softening his solemn expression.

“Lucian—”

“Stay. Not because I'll make it worth your while, but because you want to. Stay with me, Evelyn, because you enjoy my company. Stay until you don't enjoy it anymore.”

“And what about when
you
stop enjoying my company? People get on each other's nerves after a while. What we have . . . it isn't permanent and we both know it.”

“Why can't we enjoy it while it lasts? I like you, Evelyn. I'm not ready to see you go.”

He didn't deny that he'd eventually lose interest in her, and that was probably for the best. It was dangerous to start reading more into what wasn't actually real. She was a phase for him and if she stayed, she needed to be okay with that.

Weary didn't begin to describe how she felt. She was just so tired, tired of fighting, tired of the endless struggle to survive, tired of denying her feelings for this man. She wasn't sure what she felt, but it was more than a contractual association. Things were getting personal.

Scout sighed. Here was a man who could afford to hang with friends in the richest social circles of the world and it appeared he was the loneliest person she had ever met. “Okay. I'll stay.”

He pulled her to him and hugged her. His arms held her tight and she breathed in his scent, which she now associated with everything Lucian—stability, determination, success, and a touch of sadness. Part of her wanted to give him this thing he asked for, because for a man who had everything, she was beginning to believe no one had given him anything in a very long time.

Scout's clothes were stripped away and she found herself being lowered into the tub. Lucian stripped and climbed in behind her. He held her in the cradle of his thighs and slowly washed away the day's dust with a soft sponge.

It felt right, sitting there in his arms, letting him touch her. He touched her as if he had a right to. Entitled. That was exactly what it was and she liked it. When Lucian touched her that way it made all her worries take a backseat for a while. She knew she could come to him with any problem and in no time he'd have a solution for her. Trust was extremely difficult for her, but Lucian seemed so dependable, Scout didn't think it would be hard to trust someone like him. She just needed the courage to surrender. And what's more, she wanted to know him.

He ran the sponge over her shoulders and water sluiced between her breasts. “Lucian?”

“Hmm?”

“Why am I different for you?”

He paused from washing her. Softly he said, “You see the world differently. You were more impressed by lilies than ten thousand dollars' worth of designer clothes. I know you respect money and the power it holds, but you see it only as a means to an end. Other people see
me
as that means.”

There was such a fine line between being bought and what they were doing. “But you said everything has a price.”

“Evelyn, if you could truly be bought I would've had you a hundred times by now. You would've been at my beck and call. You would've dropped your job at the first chance. You certainly wouldn't let your hurt pride run you out of my penthouse and back to a shelter. You would've grinned and bore it because you had been bought off, but you didn't. There're certain things about you that simply aren't for sale.”

Scout picked up the sponge and washed his arms and hands. Beautiful strong hands, so different than the hands she had washed that afternoon. “I don't have many friends,” she said, not sure where the words came from.

He kissed the moist skin below her ear. “Me neither.”

“What an odd pair we are . . .”

“Not odd,” he said introspectively. “Just finding our way. It'll be easier now that we have each other's company.”

Chapter 19

Hunger

The satin sheets made a hushing whisper as Lucian rolled onto his back. “Where're you going?”

Scout stood from wedging her foot into her shoe. “Work.”

He grimaced and leaned up on his elbow. The deep amber sheet slid from his chest. Rather than tell her all his reasons why she shouldn't work as a housekeeper at Patras, he said, “Don't go.”

Her heart expanded and she walked over to the bed and kissed his cheek. “I have to. People are depending on me.”

“Do you like cleaning?”

“Not particularly, but it's a good job.”

He watched her for a moment, his fingers running over her apron. “I'll be waiting for you here as soon as your shift's over.”

“I'll be here,” she said confidently.

His lips kissed the corner of her mouth. “I have to run into town for a business brunch. Other than that I'll be here if you need anything.”

When he kissed her like that, courteously, with a trace of intimate affection, emotions stirred that were better left dormant. Scout wasn't used to such gestures, and the tiny thrill of joy little kisses from Lucian provoked in her. Each one was like a sifted grain of sand that could eventually lead to an avalanche. She didn't want to be swept away and eventually fall in.

Work was a repeat of the day before. Scout's schedule was impossibly light and this time she noticed everyone else seemed a bit burdened with larger than usual assignments. Rather than dusting the common areas over and over again, she finished her rooms and went down to Tamara's office.

Her knuckles knocked on the door lightly.

“Come in.”

“Hi, Tamara. Are you busy?”

Her GM pushed aside a salad she was mixing at her desk. “Of course not. What's up?”

Scout stepped into the plain office and fidgeted with the slip of paper her schedule had been printed on. “I wanted to talk to you about my workload.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Is ten hours too much?”

“Oh, no. I . . . the hours are fine. If you needed me more I could do more. I was actually wondering why my roster's been so light.”

She had the grace to blush. “Um, Mr. Patras said that you . . . I mean . . .” She sighed. “I'm kind of in a weird position here, Scout. Mr. Patras is my boss's boss's boss. What he says goes.”

“And he told you I wasn't supposed to have more than a certain amount of assignments in a day?”

Her expression validated her assumption. “I'm sorry.”

Scout pinched the bridge of her nose. “It's not your fault. I'll talk to him.”

When she returned to the penthouse, she was exhausted. Her stomach felt like it was slowly imploding it was so empty. Starvation was something she'd always tolerated, but since she'd been eating better, when it did hit, it hit with a vengeance. She was so hungry the thought of food made her frustrated and ill. She just wanted to sleep.

Lucian was at his desk when she came in. He tucked away what he was working on and stood.

“Hey, I need to talk to you,” he said with a smile.

Scout put her bag on the floor and met him at the seating area. He kissed her cheek with restrained affection and she sat. “I need to talk to you too.”

Her body sunk into the plush sofa, and her spine seemed to melt. She eased her head back and shut her eyes. Wearily she said, “Lucian, you can't tell my boss I can only clean so many rooms. Do you realize that maids make tips? The less rooms I clean the less tip money I earn.”

“I hadn't thought about that. It doesn't matter anyway.” She peeked through one eye at him. He wore a satisfied grin.

Dryly, she asked, “Why doesn't it matter, Lucian?”

“Because you've been promoted.” He seemed quite pleased with himself.

She sat up. It took a lot of effort.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but she had to ask anyway. “What do you mean ‘promoted'?”

“Next Wednesday you start your new job at the front desk. You won't have to clean, the pay is better, and I'll know where you are in case I need to find you for some reason.”

“Oh, Lucian, no . . .” All she saw in her mind were the computers that lined the counter and the pages printing from the machines and the receipts sliding back and forth. All things she didn't know how to use, all things that required a person to be literate. “I can't do that job.”

“Why not? It's easy.”

“For you maybe. Lucian, I don't know how to use computers. I'd have to answer phones and . . . I'm sorry. I know you meant well, but I can't accept the offer.”

“Evelyn, they'll train you. You'll learn—”

“Lucian, no. I'm not taking it.”

“You're being stubborn. You're exhausted from cleaning all day—”

“I'm exhausted from thinking up things to do all day. I only had four rooms to do. Do you know how slow my day moves when I have nothing on my schedule? You need to tell Tamara to give me my old assignments back.”

Rather than argue, he softly ran the pad of his thumb under her eye. “You look wiped. Did you sleep well last night?”

Scout wasn't used to him being so attentive to her comforts. “I'm just hungry.”

“What did you eat for breakfast?”

“Nothing.”

He scowled. “Did you have lunch?”

“I haven't eaten since I was at the shelter.”

“That was twenty hours ago, Evelyn! You need to eat.”

“That'd be great, Lucian, but there isn't always food.”

He stood and picked up the phone. His finger punched down on a number. “That's bullshit and you know it. I told you I've arranged for you to have a credit here at the hotel. If you're hungry there's no excuse for you to starve. Yes, this is Lucian Patras. Send up some toast, eggs, and fresh honeydew wrapped in prosciutto. I'd also like a basket of nonperishables brought to my room every few days as well. Thank you.”

He hung up the phone. “Why didn't you say something?”

Her shoulders shrugged. Scout was used to taking care of herself. She was responsible for herself. It didn't feel right going to someone else about her needs despite all her soul-searching thoughts and acceptances of her relationship with Lucian.

Scout changed the subject. “How was your business brunch?”

“Good.” His gaze was unfocused for a moment. He seemed distracted as he smiled. “It was really good.”

Lucian had all of her belongings brought up to his suite and moved to the guest room closet while they had both been gone. When she went to change and didn't come right back, he found her frowning at the closet.

“What's wrong?”

“All I have to wear are gowns and fancy clothes. It's weird dressing up just to sit around.”

He left and returned a minute later with a button-down shirt. “Here, wear this.”

She changed into his shirt and dug out a pair of thick wool socks from her bag. The shirt swallowed her, coming to her knees. Rolling the sleeves back several times, she sighed. When she came back into the common area the food had arrived.

“Aren't you eating?”

“I'm still full from brunch.”

Scout picked at the toast and the fluffy eggs. Her stomach was hollow so everything she put in it landed in a way that made her painfully aware of its emptiness. When she couldn't stomach any more, she put her fork down. Lucian was sitting on the edge of the sofa, reading over some papers.

He looked at her plate. “You didn't eat enough.”

“I can't stomach any more right now.”

He frowned and pulled her to his side. His hand glided over her back and slowly undid her bun. As he read his paperwork, his fingers unconsciously stroked her hair. She sunk into his side, her head slowly lowering and her lashes growing very heavy. Drifting off, he continued to hold her, as if her presence brought him as much comfort as his brought her.