Page 29 of Final Cost

“I have to go, Lucien,” I say, rising panic making me shrill as I back toward the door. Because the look on his face makes me think—for the very first time—that he hurt himself as much as he hurt me when he pushed me away. The idea is startling. Revolutionary. And I can’t handle one more thing tonight. “I told you I can’t do this right now. You told me I’m in control. Did you mean that?”

“You know I did.”

“Then don’t make me humiliate myself.” My voice rises and cracks, forcing me to clear my throat. Worse, water trickles down my cheeks and I’m not entirely sure it’s from sweat. “I’m begging you.”

“How long do you plan to punish me?” His voice sounds dull but his gaze is accusatory. “Do you think I don’t know it’s a power ploy, the way you keep putting me off?”

“A power ploy?”

“The kind of thing Ravenna would do, frankly. Jerk me by my chain. MaybeIneed to think twice about whether this relationship is good for me.”

Sudden outrage takes over. “Don’t you dare compare me to that psychopath!”

“Do you deny that it feels good to know you’ve got me tied up in knots?”

I hesitate. How can I not? He’s got me dead to rights and I didn’t even realize it until this second. “Can you blame me for being scared to let you get close again? You’ve taken over my entire life?—”

“You’vetaken overmylife!” he roars. “Don’t you see that?”

I’m not sure if I do or not, but I’m not willing to give him the final word here. “I live in your house and eat your food while wearing the shoes you bought me. I let you fuck me on demand even though you ripped my heart out. I need to have some control here. A month ago I didn’t even know you existed. And now you’reeverything. And I am scared to death. I don’t think I’d even care if I found out you were a murderer.”

“I’mnot.”

“But I wouldn’t care if you were!That’sthe issue!”

He stares me straight in the face. “I breathe for you, Ms. Scott. You’ve stopped smiling at me. It may not seem like much to you, but it’s enough punishment to last me the rest of my life. So when it comes to control? I hereby declare you the clear winner. Never doubt yourself again.”

Oh, God. Oh,God. He looks like he means it. And all my words are trapped behind my swelling heart and tight throat and I can’t stop these damn tears from falling.

He suddenly turns away, swallowing hard. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. Meanwhile, make sure you come watch the interview tomorrow night with the rest of us. We’ll make it a party.”

13

Tamsyn

“Hey, Tamsyn,”Roman says shortly before nine the following night, when he comes around the corner and sees me standing there alone.

I try to hide a grimace. He’s caught me in the middle of another new personal low. I’m skulking in the hallway outside Lucien’s study, too cowardly to go inside and watch Ravenna’s interview with everyone else and far too nosy to go back upstairs and watch it by myself. I don’t want to get too wrapped up in whatever Ravenna says about him. Because what if — God forbid — my emotions get the best of me and I find myself empathizing with Lucien? On the other hand, why on earth would I want to miss out on seeing his reactions up close and personal? Hence, my dilemma.

Plus, things have been awkward with Roman since he saw me coming in from canoodling on horseback with Lucien the other day. Not that either of us would ever mentionthat.

Still, I paste a bright smile on my face and do what I think is a reasonably good job of acting like a normal human being. “Roman. Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, playing along. Even though he’s got all one of his brows up at a bemused angle. “Strange day, ha?”

The vibe of the house has been off all day. That’s the only way I can describe it. Too quiet. Too jumpy. The staff whispering in corners and looking worried. Rumors and speculation about where Winwood could be and whether the police are looking for him. Lucien holed up in meetings the whole time. Waiting, waiting, waiting. At least now, finally, something is happening.

“Truer words were never spoken,” I say darkly.

He starts through the door, then pauses when he realizes I’m not right behind him. “You coming?”

All my limited acting skills suddenly decide to fail miserably. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see what Ravenna has got to say.”

He nods with grim agreement. “No one does. But we don’t have a choice. Come on.”

With that, he takes my elbow and ushers me into tonight’s inner sanctum, where Daniel hovers by the bar and Lucien sits in the tufted wing chair opposite the giant TV that’s invisibly built into the bookshelves, but is now playing a car insurance commercial on mute.

Since I haven’t seen Lucien since last night, I’m greedy for details about him. Dark smudges under his eyes hint at his exhaustion. He’s got the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He’s got his legs crossed and is moodily staring at the swirling golden contents of his tumbler where he rests his hand over the chair’s arm. But when Roman and I walk in, his head comes up and his flinty gaze immediately locks in on Roman’s hand touching my bare arm. A muscle begins to pulse in his temple hard enough for me to see it across the distance. Worse — and I’m sure this is just my imagination — the spot on my arm begins to burn. And when Lucien’s attention shifts to my face, all my body’s heat concentrates on my cheeks until I’m certain I’m blushing to the roots of my hair.

---