Page 84 of Lucas
“Run out of smart comments, Wifey?” He cocks a dark brow. “Good. You don’t need that bratty mouth right now. Only one thing matters.”
In a blur of movement, he fists his hands in the delicate fabric of my dress and yanks hard. The flimsy cloth shreds with a sharp ripping sound, baring my body to his hungry eyes. Torn scraps of silver flutter to the floor around our feet.
“My dress!” I gasp, trying to cover myself.
Lucas captures my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head with one large hand. “Uh-uh, no hiding from me.” His molten gaze drags over my exposed figure like a physical caress. “Fuck, you’re perfect. So goddamn perfect.”
The raw reverence in his deep voice steals my breath. No one has ever looked at me the way he is right now—like I’m the only woman in the world. Like he wants to worship me and devour me at the same time. Not even my past lovers made me feel this desired, this powerful.
I shift under the intensity of his stare, a blush staining my cheeks. I’m not used to being the focus of such blatant male hunger. It’s unnerving and thrilling at the same time.
An unfamiliar emotion swells in my chest. Not just lust but something deeper, more dangerous.
Oh no. I can’t let myself feel this way. Not about Lucas. Getting attached to my fake husband is a one-way ticket to Heartbreak City. I’m just a contracted diversion to him. A challenge to conquer.
I turn my head as he leans in, evading his seeking mouth. “No,” I grit out. “We can’t. I can’t.”
He rears back like I slapped him, his eyes widening. “No?” Confusion and frustration war on his features.
Keeping my gaze averted, I scoop up the ruined remains of my dress and hold them to my chest like a skimpy shield. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t or won’t?” The words are soft. Laced with something that sounds like hurt.
I risk a peek at him. He looks different. Vulnerable. The cocky mask is absent for once.
Is it possible my rejection bothers him on some level? That he wants me as more than a disposable bed warmer?
I shake off the folly of those thoughts. I’m just a game to a man like him. A conquest.
Wrapping the tattered dress tighter around myself, I square my shoulders. “Does it matter? The outcome is the same.”
Sighing, he drags a hand through his mussed hair. “Fine. Go change, and I’ll drive you to the party.” His jaw tics. “If you still want to go.”
I gape at him. “Seriously? After...this?”
His gaze hardens. “You’re not going alone. Either I accompany you or you stay here tonight. The choice is yours.”
Unbelievable. Condescending, controlling Lucas is back in full force.
“So you can pull cave dweller moves all night?” I snap. “Hovering and grunting at any man who dares speak to me? No thanks.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get my point across.”
I hitch up my dress and spin on my heel. “Then I guess I’m staying in. Happy now?”
As I stomp away with the torn train of my dress fluttering behind me like a glittery battle flag, I pretend I don’t feel his eyes searing a hole in my back the entire way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
AVA
Irest my forehead on the cool surface of the desk, trying to soothe the burning in my temples.
As much as I hate to admit it, Lucas is right. Gant Construction is hemorrhaging money at an alarming rate, and there’s no way to balance the equation without layoffs.
Even if he covers our debts now, in another year, we’ll be right back in the same spot.
How did you let things get this bad, Father?
