When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine 2)

“If he is a friend, he’d at least want you to tell him the truth.”

“He’s likely to think my purpose is completely mercenary and selfish.” He exhaled and rubbed his eyes. “And in fact, it was in the beginning. I specifically asked a common acquaintance to introduce Ian and me in Paris because I hoped to find out more about both Ian and his mother. I’ve come to care about him since then, but if Ian knows the truth, he’ll likely discount all that. He’ll just think I’ve used him.”

She studied his face soberly, sensing the weight of his burden. She could tell by the well-practiced way he said the words that the logic had been replayed in his mind again and again. How hard it must be for him, to feel so close to the source of his mother’s identity and yet have it remain just out of reach.

“God, Lucien. I had no idea finding your birth mother was so important to you.” Realization struck her and her facial muscles convulsed with emotion. Of course true family was important to him. He’d always insinuated he felt like an outcast in his adopted family. He’d even commented on that similarity between Elise and him.

“I should have known,” she said shakily.

He opened his hand along her jaw, cradling it. He was so large in comparison to her. She always felt so encompassed when he touched her . . . so cherished.

“Why should you have known? I wasn’t comfortable speaking my wish aloud. I told no one, save Herr Schroeder, and only then in a business sense.”

“You . . . you’ve never told anyone else about your search for your mother?”

He shook his head, his silvery-gray eyes steady on her. She experienced a sense of humbleness that he’d opened up to her.

“I’ll help you find her, Lucien. I’ll do whatever I can. I know how important family is to you,” she whispered through a swollen throat.

“You have no idea how important,” he said, his gaze running over her face. “But I want you to promise me you won’t do or say anything in regard to this business. I have it all under control. Trust me.”

“I do, but—”

“Come here,” he interrupted gently. His tone was in stark contrast to his embrace. He crushed her to him, his arms surrounding her, holding her tight against his body, almost as if he wanted to absorb her. She clamped her eyes shut as a rush of emotion went through her. What was that powerful feeling that kept rising in her, stealing her words and her wits? She’d felt the seed of it toward Lucien, even as a girl. It’d sprouted since they’d come together again, mounting and growing and flowering. Tonight, it’d seemed to swell and bloom at his honesty, at his willingness to trust her with his vulnerability. Whatever this feeling was, it felt as if it’d suffocate her if she didn’t release it.

Love. It’s love.

She clenched her eyelids together tighter, as if she could vanquish that knowing voice. It frightened her, to think of it being true. She would be so weak, so helpless if she admitted to that need. But she couldn’t keep it locked inside her much longer. . . .

Lucien’s warm lips moved against her hairline and nuzzled her ear, the sharp shivers of excitement shooting through her making her forget her anguish . . . making her forget her unanswered questions.

“Let’s forget about Helen Noble for now. I have a surprise for you,” he said, his low voice in her ear making her shudder with pleasure. She shifted her hips ever so slightly, feeling his cock swell beneath her bottom and thigh. It seemed like ages since she last felt his embrace.

“What is it?” she whispered, tilting her chin and finding his jaw. She rained tiny kisses over his whiskers, thrilling to the abrading sensation against her sensitive lips.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I just told you, would it?”

She pressed her mouth against his moving lips, fitting their contours together delicately. He growled softly at her teasing and seized her mouth in a voracious kiss.

She gave herself to that kiss wholesale, sensing how much he wanted to forget his anxieties and unanswered questions. His heat melted away her doubts as well, her insecurities about losing control . . . about falling in love.

“I’d like to go and shower after the trip,” he muttered next to her lips a moment later. “I’ll clean up in the spare bedroom bath so you can bathe if you like. I’ll come and find you in a few minutes.”

“Will I get my surprise then?”

“You’ll get it then all right,” he replied in a hard, dry tone that made her eyebrows go up. “You’ll get your surprise and something extra for eavesdropping again,” he said, the grin pulling at his lips intoxicating her.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping . . . I mean . . . not necessarily. Just because I was passing in the hallway and overheard you doesn’t necessarily equate to eavesdropping.”

He shook his head. “When are you going to learn I read your lies like a neon sign, ma fifille?” He cut off her protest with his mouth and tongue. She whimpered into his mouth and clutched his shoulders when he gathered her to him and stood, bringing her along with him. His kiss was so hot, so all-consuming, she thought he’d throw his plans to the wind and get into the shower with her. Instead, he set her down on the master suite bathroom floor and pressed his lips to her nose.

“Hurry up,” he said succinctly when he backed away.

Even though she was disappointed when he walked out of the bathroom, leaving her alone, she liked his rough insistence for haste. She liked it a lot.

While she showered, she thought about the other things she’d overheard Herr Schroeder and Lucien discuss. Who was this man who had died in prison and toward whom Lucien expressed such bitterness? Herr Schroeder likely had worked on several different cases for him over the years. Still . . . surely a business concern wouldn’t have made Lucien sound so disdainful.