suspicious. “Evelyn. I ordered a car. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
Her heart sunk. “You said we could stay the night.”
Before he could answer, Christos stood. “I’d like to take the two of you to dinner. I know you made
other plans, but . . . it would mean a lot to me.”
Lucian’s jaw ticked. She gave him a pleading look. “I’d like to stay.”
His eyes shut and his expression looked pained. “Very well. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
***
Dinner was an experience. The cuisine was much like the fare served at the hotel, being that the
head chef at Patras was Parisian. Tibet and Lucian were silent for most of the meal, while Christos and Evelyn held up the majority of the conversation.
Several times she caught Lucian watching them, a perplexed look on his face. They didn’t talk
about business. Rather, she spoke of their trip to Ireland and England and how much she loved the
island off the coast of Florida.
Christos complimented her often and smiled with natural affection crinkling his eyes. It was a side,
she believed, Lucian had never before seen in his father.
The ride home was filled with chatter. She often invited Lucian into the conversation, but he only
offered up one-word statements. Tibet also seemed to watch them with a sort of disbelief.
Evelyn saw signs of that stubborn, determined Patras mentality, but compared to Lucian, Christos
seemed like a big marshmallow. It was so blatantly obvious to her that this man, like his son, was
desperate for the connections they’d denied themselves over the years. She was happy to bridge the
gap and took great pride in the building connection she sensed between herself and Lucian’s father.
When they returned to the house, she was still tipsy from dinner and gripped Christos’s arm as their
laughter echoed through the foyer.
“She’s a pistol, Lucian. Don’t let her go,” Christos laughed.
Lucian’s expression remained blank. “I don’t intend to.” His unaffected tone sobered them.
Evelyn turned to Christos and said, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
He smiled, perhaps a bit sad to see it come to an end. “Anytime, my dear.”
She said good night and followed Lucian up to their room. When she shut the door, the tension was
palpable. “Are you okay?”
He mumbled something and undid his tie. “You certainly won over my father.”
She stilled. “Does that aggravate you?”
“It will aggravate me when he does something typical and hurts your feelings. I know him. This act
he’s putting on now isn’t real.”
“Why? Because it’s incongruent with the man you knew ten years ago? People change, Lucian.”
“Not him.”
She tossed her bag on the chair and stilled his hands over the buttons of his shirt. “Your father loves you, Lucian. He’s trying to show you, and you aren’t giving him the opportunity he needs.”
“Why should I give him anything?”
“Because you love him too, and this void between the two of you hurts.”
He sighed and shut his eyes. His forehead came to rest on hers. “How is it you see the parts of me
I’ve spent my whole life successfully hiding?”
“Because I’m like you. Love is scary. But now that I know all the good things it can bring, I’ve
changed my position and decided it’s worth the risk. Your father is not the enemy anymore, Lucian.
Stop fighting him. Give him a chance before he’s gone. I’d hate to see you haunted with regret.”
His head tilted, and soft lips traced over hers. “I should strangle him for flirting with you.”
She drew back. “He was not flirting with me.”
“Oh yes, he was. It was like you put him under a spell. I only allowed it to go on because it was
pissing off Tibet.”
She laughed. “I don’t get her. She’s . . . it’s like she loves your dad, but he’ll never love her back
enough, not by her standards at least. And she knows it.”
“She’s got a lot to answer for. She’ll never be more than the woman who hurt my mother. I can
tolerate her, but I’ll never see past that scarlet letter.”
Her fingers traced down his throat. “What now?”
The zipper at her back was dragged down and her dress peeled away. “I’m done with the family
stuff for a while. Tomorrow we’ll have breakfast before we leave and I’ll make an effort to play nice
so long as you remember which Patras you belong to.”
Her fingers brushed over the ridge in his pants. “Hmm, here I thought I belonged to myself. Maybe
I need a lesson to remind me—”
His fist gripped her hair and tilted her head back. All words cut off as he pressed his lips to her jaw and nibbled to the soft skin behind her ear. Looking in her eyes, his fingers tightened. “You’re mine,
Evelyn. Mine.”
His mouth closed over her in a total act of possession. Her fingers pulled at his shirt until he had her pinned beneath him on the bed.
Her clothes were ripped from her body. He spread her thighs and his eyes dilated, going completely