Page 18 of Devilish

So what was I still doing here?

Lucien strolled out of the kitchen, a to-go box in his hand. “Don’t even think about saying no,” he said to Arnaud. “It’s your favorite.”

The doorman shook his head. “With all due respect, you don’t know my favorite, Mr. Vale.”

“No?” Lucien arched a dark brow. “You mean to tell me you don’t order the spicy, crispy sea bass from Wo Hop every year on your birthday?”

Arnaud pursed his lips like he was going to deny it, but then a small smile broke free. “As always, you don’t miss a thing. But it’s not my birthday.”

“I know.” Lucien held the food out to him. “Take it.”

Arnaud shook his head, but did what Lucien asked anyway, and I didn’t miss the bills tucked in the side flap of the box.

Why did I get the feeling this was something Lucien did often?

“Come,” he said to me, nodding toward the bedroom.

As we entered, I could make out the label splashed across each bag, some upscale clothing shop I’d never personally been to, but had passed many times.

“Did you run out of clothes?” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them, because this was alotof clothing.

“These aren’t for me.” Lucien turned one of the bags upside down on the bed, spilling out the contents, and then winked at me. “These are for you.”

I looked at him, then the clothes, then back at him. He had to be joking…right? There was no way he’d bought all this forme.

I shook my head, still in disbelief even as he held up a sweater that was several sizes too small for him, but perfect for me.

He began to lay the garments out in separate stacks: pants, shirts, sweaters, pajamas. More upturned bags joined the piles, all while I stood there and stared.

“Don’t feel like you have to wear anything you don’t love. Try them on and keep what you like.”

“But…” I didn’t even know what to say, because the clothes just kept coming. I rubbed my forehead. “Why?”

When Lucien looked up from folding a pair of jeans, I forced myself to continue.

“I don’t understand. I have clothes; they’re just not”—I paused when I realizedwherethey still were—“here.”

Lucien nodded and continued to neatly stack the clothes. “Do you want me to send for them?”

After the showdown at the club with Rupert, I didn’t think it was a good idea at all for Lucien to be anywhere near him. Besides, there was no guarantee Rupert hadn’t thrown them all out on the street. “No, no. Don’t do that.”

“Okay, but I can’t imagine you enjoy wearingmyclothes.”

They were the nicest pajamas I’d ever worn in my life, but I knew he was referring more to the fact that the waist and sleeves were rolled up several times.

Not to mention these particular silk pajamas had been on Lucien’s body…

I shook the thought out of my head. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. Shouldn’t admit I didn’t at all mind wearing his clothes.

Moving closer to the bed, I ran my fingers over the soft cotton shirt at the top of one of the stacks. I had questions, so many questions, but before I could ask any of them, Lucien turned toward me and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I wanted to,” he said. “That’s why. I don’t want you to think you ever have to go back there, not for any reason, and certainly not for clothes.” He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s really as simple as that.”

Keeping my gaze down, I tried to take in what he was telling me, but it just seemed impossible. One outfit? Maybe. Buying out the entire store?

“It’s too much,” I said before meeting his eyes.

The corner of Lucien’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but to be honest, I’m not very good at editing myself.”

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