The Mistaken Escort's Pleasure: A Liaison Novel (10 page)

After barraging her with questions that were none of their business, people she hadn’t even met, much less worked with, went on to ask her whether she thought Lucian would be willing to fund a project for them, or help them start their own business, or whether he would hire them, because they expected Ellie to put in a good word for them.
 
She was polite at first, but by the end of the day, she had shut her door and jammed a chair underneath so no one else could disturb her.

The one group who hadn’t questioned her relentlessly about Lucian was her team; they wished her all the best and seemed happy for her.
 
They became her guards, so when she barricaded herself in her office, her staff had to tell people that she was busy and wasn’t to be disturbed.
 
She had grown close with her team of five, and was grateful that they supported her, as her work life was turned upside down.

After a quick glance at her watch and noting it was after eight at night, she unlocked the door and flipped on the light near the entryway, and tossed her keys into a ceramic bowl that sat on her long hallway table.
 
The table, found in disrepair, had great potential so she had brought it home and taken the time to sand the rough spots, fix the hinges, and re-stained it, and finished it by painting the three drawers in pastel colors.
 
Unlike the look of her modern apartment, she had furnished most of it with eclectic tables, comfortable furniture, and throws that she had knitted herself.
 
As she surveyed her home, she leaned against her front door and blew out a breath, happy that the day was over.

One more day—she had one more day—and then she could spend the weekend with Lucian and forget about this week.

She hung her coat up and placed her messenger bag that contained her laptop, on the rounded wooden table, another project she had completed when she moved in.
 
She thought about finishing up a couple of things for work, but dismissed the idea.

She rounded the island and headed toward the refrigerator, happy that she could warm up leftovers from the night before, too tired to cook.
 
As she removed the lid from the plastic container and placed it in the microwave to heat, there was a knock on her door.

Her brows drew down as her gaze landed on her door.
 
Lucian had called her on Tuesday to let her know he was out of town until Friday night, because he was looking to acquire a struggling tech company.
 
She strolled to the door, taking the time to peek through the peephole, and spotted Ben on the other side.
 
His face was marred by a frown, and she wrenched the door open, thinking something happened to Nina.

“Ben, is everything okay?” she asked.

He looked up, and his features smoothed out.
 
“Yeah.
 
Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t meant to freak you out.”

She blew out a breath, and opened the door wider and waited for him to walk through.
 
She closed it and headed back to the kitchen as her food had finished reheating.

“Would you like some pasta?”

He shook his head and seated himself at the island.
 
She couldn’t remember ever having Ben in her apartment alone.
 
He picked up Nina, before the two of them came over, so she set aside her plate and faced him, ready to hear what he had to say.
 
She didn’t have to wait very long.

“I heard that you’re engaged to Lucian.”

It was a statement, not a question.
 
She couldn’t tell him the truth, that no, she wasn’t engaged to Lucian, but the hardheaded man made her promise to go along with it.
 
The reason he made the ridiculous claim was the same reason she had agreed to go to the wedding.
 
They didn’t want Tim interfering in their lives.
 
The best way, Lucian thought, to stop Tim from fixing her up with a date to his wedding was to make a commitment to each other.

“It’s complicated.”

Ben blew out a breath and glared at her.
 
“Complicated, how?”

“Who did you hear it from?”
 
She avoided the question.

“Everyone in the office knows.
 
I found out Monday morning, but I was hoping it was a mistake.
 
You can’t be serious about getting involved with an escort, even if he is a successful, rich one.”

“He’s not an escort.
 
He just said that so he could get to know me.
 
He told me the truth last weekend, but I already knew.”

“So, you’re okay with him lying to you?”

She shook her head, refusing to have this conversation with him.
 
The three of them never talked about who they were dating, unless it was in passing, but this time, Ben wanted to know everything.

She wanted to keep her relationship with Lucian private.
 
She couldn’t explain why, but sharing information, even with a friend, felt like a betrayal to her.
 
Until they defined their relationship with each other, she wouldn’t discuss it with anyone else.
 

There was never a moment where she thought Lucian was lying to her.
 
She knew that he wasn’t an escort from the first moment she met him, but the more time they spent together, the more she wanted him in her life.
 
Her friend meant well, but this was none of his business and she refused to discuss this with him.
 
Whatever happened between Lucian and herself, she would keep her thoughts and memories private.
 

“What’s this all about?”

“You’ve known him less than a month, and now you’re engaged to him?”

She felt as though she had known Lucian her entire life.
 
He was an integral part of her, and even though they’d known each other a short while, she instinctively trusted him.

He would never hurt her, but she was also smart enough to know that whatever was between them would burn out and he would move on to the next woman he was interested in.

In all of her years, she’d never been so attracted to a man that her body became aware of him whenever he was near.
 
But at the same time, he made her laugh, appreciated her quirkiness, and still stuck around.

“Ben,” she chastised.

He shook his head and paced around her kitchen.
 
In all the time she’d known him, he never let anything get to him, and he was never agitated.
 
But as he continued with his silence, she started to worry.
 
When he broke away from his path and turned to her, she had no idea what was coming.

“Ellie,” he groaned.

She held herself still as he strode toward her, caging her in with his body and the island behind her.
 
He bent to gaze into her eyes, and his next words stole her breath.

“I love you, Ellie.
 
I always have, and I want you to choose me.”

She jerked back as if he’d struck her and her eyes widened.
 
Her breathing sawed in and out of her throat as she tried to process what he’d told her.
 
He couldn’t love her.
 
They’d been friends for five years and he never let on once that he felt anything other than friendship.
 
She shook her head, adamant that he was mistaken.

“You don’t.”

He moved so fast that she didn’t see his hands until they cupped her cheeks.
 
He didn’t give her any time to deny him before his lips were pressed against hers.
 
She pushed against his chest.
 
He refused to budge and she refused to open her mouth to his kiss.
 
Her knee was about to make contact with his balls, when the pressure released from her mouth.
 
She gazed around.

Lucian held Ben about six inches off the ground, his face a mask of pure rage and hatred.
 
Lucian had about four inches and several pounds of muscle on Ben.

For a second, she couldn’t take her eyes off the man who had become her entire world.
 
She didn’t want to let it show, but the relief of seeing Lucian made her body sag against the counter.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lucian growled.

Ben paled as he glanced down at the angry man.

She worried about Lucian.
 
He vibrated with anger while he waited for an answer.
 
Her chest hurt when she thought about what he walked in on.
 
She had to make him understand that there was nothing going on between her and Ben.
 
But first, she had to get Ben out of her place.

“Lucian, please put him down.”
 
Her voice was as soothing as she could make it.

He lowered Ben slowly to his feet.
 
The moment the other man’s feet touched the floor, she reached for Lucian’s hand and tugged him close, before she turned and faced Ben.

“I’m flattered, but I know you don’t love me, Ben.”

“But—”

“Did you feel anything when you kissed me?” she demanded.

The shock was evident on his face, but he refused to answer her question.
 
With one long look at her, and then Lucian, he walked out of her apartment and slammed the door behind him.

The numbness spread throughout her body as she realized that in a few moments, she lost one of her closest friends and there was nothing she could have done to prevent it.
 
But knowing that Lucian had witnessed it made her heart ache in her chest.
 
Within seconds, she was in Lucian’s arms, and could hear his steady heartbeat as she laid her head against his chest.

“If he ever touches you again…”

“He won’t.”
 
Hurt made her voice come out low and shaky.

He warmed her as he rubbed his hands up and down her back.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He wanted me to choose him over you.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“He never gave any indication that he was interested in me.
 
And when he kissed me, it felt wrong, but he wouldn’t let me go.
 
I didn’t kiss him back.”

“I’ve never felt such rage, and when I realized that you were trying to push him off…I should have beat him to a pulp.”

His voice was strained, and at the moment, she understood that he meant what he said.
 
She leaned back and glimpsed his face; despite the week that she’d had, she had missed him.

His teeth ground together as his arms tightened around her, and she knew that his anger hadn’t dissipated.
 
Confusion and sadness swamped her, but she didn’t realize that she’d been crying until he sucked in a breath and bent to kiss her tears away.

“I know he’s your friend…”

“It’s not that.
 
It’s been a hell of a week.”

“That’s my fault.”
 
He wiped the rest of her tears with his thumbs, and she relaxed in his arms.

“I thought that you weren’t coming home until tomorrow?”

“I missed you,” he said.

Her heart swelled at his simple, yet heartfelt words, and she cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

This was right—his lips on hers—in a way that she’d never experienced before.

The kiss grew out of control, and when he lifted her onto the counter, she smiled against his mouth.

Everything else was forgotten when he was near.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought him closer, until she could feel his hardness against her stomach.
 
The moan that escaped her mouth spurred something deep inside him, and his hands slid to her waist and jerked her until her core pressed against him.

She ripped her mouth from his.
 
“Yes, Lucian.”

“I love it when you moan my name,” he growled.

When their mouths collided, heat shot straight to her core and she surged up to brush against his hardness, begging him for what her body craved.
 
In this moment, she wanted him deep inside her, until they became one and erased the ache that had become a constant.
 
She brought her body closer, until they were pressed together from chest to hip, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Please, I need you,” she begged.

His groan rumbled through her body, but instead of picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom, he lowered his forehead to hers and blew out a frustrated breath.
 
He pulled back and met her gaze with his heated one.
 
The silence stretched for several minutes as their bodies cooled.
 
The loudest sound in the room was their breathing.

“Now isn’t the time, love.
 
I need to take care of you, and when we do make love, it’ll be without any distractions.”

She couldn’t bring herself to regret her response to his closeness.
 
As she sagged back against the counter, she had to acknowledge that he was right.
 
She was exhausted, and she wanted to savor the moments with Lucian, not rush them in an attempt to forget about the week.

He must have spotted something in her expression, because he gave her a quick kiss and rounded the counter, right to the refrigerator.

She watched him in a daze as he threw together ingredients for an omelet, his movements efficient as he moved around her kitchen.
 
Soon, he slid the plate in front of her, watching her until she ate every bite.
 
When she was finished, he rinsed the plate and slid it into the dishwasher, before he turned to her and lifted her in his arms.

“Time for bed, love.”

“Will you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The bathroom light was flicked on, and she squinted at the brightness, hurrying through her bedtime ritual of brushing her teeth, washing her face, and looping her hair into a bun.
 
He was beside her, brushing his own teeth, and the act was somehow more intimate than what they had shared on the counter in her kitchen.