Page 2 of Desperate Vows

He must feel my stare or ogle if I was honest, but anyone as attractive as him should expect to be physically appreciated. His gaze locked on mine. A lone eyebrow arched up along with one corner of his lips like they were connected by a string.

Palming the other man’s bicep, he seemed to say a parting word and broke away. The other man didn’t even turn around as he walked deeper into the bowels of the place. I was frozen as Lucas stalked toward me, head lowered, midnight eyes never leaving mine.

Calling him an Adonis was an insult. He was beyond God-like in his perfection. Chiseled jaw lined with perfectly trimmed beard and mustache, plump lips with the bottom just slightly larger. The closer he got, the more tingles erupted across my skin. My body was fully aware I was about to be in the presence of someone worthy of worship, and it would beg for reciprocation.

His hand jutted out. “Ms. Benoit.” His voice was warm honey, and I’d never been more jealous of baked bread in my life.

Still in awe, I shook his hand, and it was like I’d stuck my hand in a light socket. My skin burns as electricity blazed a trail up my arm and across my chest into my stomach. Based on what I’d read, I should fear him, but for some unexplainable reason, I didn’t.

Up close, he was a beautiful man…and deadly. As I pictured myself running my fingers through his hair and over his skin, it registered that he’d said my name.

“You know my name?”

Mischief danced in his eyes. “I think the entire city of Chicago knows your name.”

Oh. Yeah. I guess I was rather…infamous. Or my father was, which meant I was guilty by association. “I guess that’s true.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of having a Benoit grace my establishment?” Was that a hint of sarcasm? I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucas knew the real Franklin Benoit.

My father was Jekyll and Hyde. To the world, he was as white as snow. A practically perfect man with a perfect business and family. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Only I knew his snow was already driven. Dirt and grime mixed in it, ripping the purity away. He held the façade together well, though. A heavy hand and threats could do that. At least my mom was free now.

“I have a business prop…” My words faltered as a woman glided from the bar and slinked an arm across Lucas’s shoulder. I blinked in rapid succession. He had a girlfriend. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Even if that hadn’t been in any of the searches, I should have expected it.

Her stick-straight, shoulder-length hair matched the coal black of his, and so did her eyes. “Claire Benoit. Color me utterly surprised.” Again, a woman was raking her gaze over my body. Homely. It was what I’d been called many times by my father. She was probably wondering why someone who looked like me was even in Lucas’s atmosphere.

“Ms. Benoit?—”

“Claire,” I said, and quickly added, “Please. I’m not nearly as formal as Daddy.” I wasn’t anything like my father, but convincing people of that was typically an uphill battle.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed a fraction as his hands fisted at his sides. “Claire, this is my sister, Thea.” Her name certainly fit since it meant goddess. She was. There wasn’t so much as an ugly atom on this woman. Just like her brother, she oozed danger, but a more cunning sort.

Her hand lifted to mine. “Adopted.” I silently congratulated the family on their addition and my luck—which I hoped was finally turning around.

We shook hands, and I replied, “Nice to meet you.”

Thea leaned in, whispered something to Lucas, and with a few swishes of her hips, she was out the door.

“Sorry, she can be a little frosty.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “I think everyone is guilty of that now and then.” Returning my gaze to his, I found his brow somewhat furrowed, like there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

Instead of asking me anything, he waved a hand at a nearby booth. “Would you like to sit and have a drink with me?”

“I’ll sit, but I don’t drink.” Why did I sound like a mouse? Because I was in the company of a wolf.

“Water then?”

I nodded and nearly tripped when Lucas’s hand found its way to my lower back, guiding me to the booth. His heat spread into regions that kind of fire had never touched. When he planted himself on the bench facing the door, the only choice left was either sitting next to him or on the other side, facing the interior of the restaurant. I chose the latter.

He leaned back, his arm stretched across the top of his seat. He continued to keep his eyes on me like he was sizing me up.

I reached for the glass of water the moment it was placed on the table. I didn’t stop drinking until it was empty.

His eyebrows hitched upward. “Thirsty?” He waved his hand, indicating I needed a refill.

“Uh, just a little.” For you. That would not have been the best way to start this conversation. Good thing I had a filter.

The glass was refilled so quickly it was almost like he’d snapped his fingers to make it so.

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