Page 5 of Lucien & Olivia

She dips her head, looking up at me through thick lashes. Her finger drags from my belt to my chest.

“Are you trying to get me drunk and compromise me?” she murmurs.

I refill her glass and she takes it, swirling it until it glitters.

“Maybe.”

I slide my palm around her waist and pull her close enough I can feel her body heat. Beneath her dress, I know she’s wearing the wine red lingerie I had my secretary send over early this morning. Wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon so she gets a little thrill when she opens the lid.

We’re more deliberate about material things now, but she still enjoys being spoiled on special occasions. And tonight is a special occasion for us. We got married in December and Olivia loves the winter, the lights, the glitter and glamour of the season. As our family grew, she put special care into making it magicalfor the boys. I know it’s an adjustment for her that Marco’s gone and the boys decided to spend this year in Austria.

That was why I reached out to Marco and he invited us to stay nearby and have Christmas dinner. Olivia thinks it was all his idea and that’s fine with me.

It took a lot more convincing on Olivia’s part to allow me to meet Freja. He likes to keep that part of his life separate and that pains Olivia. She wants to lavish love on everyone, especially her potential daughter-in-law. But Marco’s hesitant.

Rightfully so, considering his family name.

Olivia lifts the glass of golden champagne to her lips and I’m distracted from my thoughts. She has a soft, full mouth and it leaves a little lipstick stain on the rim. Reminding me of the other place she likes to leave her lipstick marks.

She tilts the champagne, emptying it. Her throat bobs.

“Would you like to know what I got you?” she whispers, eyes glittering. She’s a little tipsy already.

I shake my head. “No, you first.”

Her lips curve. “Alright, what did you get for me?”

I jerk my head at the package laid on the bedside table. “Run along and find out.”

She rolls her eyes and I make a mental note to remember that for later when she’s on her back beneath me. I lean on the bar and watch her ass sway as she crosses the room and picks up the large, flat box. It’s made of false ivory and tied with a shiny gold bow. She heads back to me and sets it on the bar.

“It’s heavy,” she whispers.

I nod and she undoes the ribbons. The lid lifts and she gasps, freezing. Inside is a preserved white rose in glass. Around it lays ropes of gold and white jewelry. Hundreds of thousands of dollars worth.

The rose is frozen forever in a dish of glass, a little dip in the center for her to keep her wedding rings and diamonds. On the bottom are her initials in gold filigree.

“Do you remember the white roses?” I say.

She nods, dark eyes fixed to mine.

“I saved one,” I say. “To remind me not to be an asshole. I sent it out and had it preserved in glass, thinking I’d keep it in my desk. But after a while I put it away for a special occasion so you could have it.”

Her lips part. She cradles the glass in her hands like it’s the most precious thing in the word. I know she loves diamonds and expensive things, but when there’s meaning attached—those are the gifts that stay with her, that she keeps tucked in her bedside table.

“You saved the very first flowers you ever got me,” she whispers. “It’s been years, Lucien.”

“All good things in time,” I say, bending to kiss the top of her head.

She sets it down, clearly stunned. I lift the diamonds and turn her to face the mirror. She stands perfectly still, hands twisted together. Watching me as I drape the double rope of diamonds around her throat.

“I bought these when we were visiting Viktor, on our honeymoon,” I say.

She turns. “You did not.”

“I did,” I say. “Cross my heart.”

“But you didn’t even love me then,” she protests.

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