black. “You’re soaked.” He grinned wickedly.
She gazed down at his now-naked body, all sinew and strength. His cock swelled, and with one deep
thrust he was driving into her.
That night he took her completely, irrevocably, and she cherished the sensation of being so
thoroughly owned.
***
Breakfast was cordial. Lucian made an effort not to close himself off, and Christos delicately tried
to incite conversation. It was sort of precious, seeing two intimidating men struggle to become more
than enemies. It would take time, but Evelyn was glad they’d made the trip. This was a big step in the
right direction.
When their car arrived, Christos hugged her. “Don’t stay away too long, you hear?”
She patted his cheek. “You know you could come to Folsom too.”
Christos looked at Lucian, who was doing a remarkable job of acting like he hadn’t heard her
suggestion. His father glanced back at her, “If we reach that point, I’d count it as a win.”
“Time,” she whispered and he nodded. “Thank you for having us.”
“You’re always welcome.”
Saying good-bye to Tibet was sort of like petting a cactus. She could be soft, but she also had the
proven ability to draw blood. She doubted the Patras children would ever fully accept her, but their
tolerance of her presence in their father’s life was perhaps enough.
As the car pulled away, Lucian rested his hand on her knee. “Do you think you’ll hear from him
soon?” she asked.
“I don’t really know what I’d say if he called. This entire trip has been . . . a surprise.”
“Maybe he finally realizes what he’s been missing all those years away from you three.”
“Maybe.”
“Do you regret coming?” she asked, holding her breath.
“You know . . . I did, but now I’m not sure. It made me happy to see you two get along. My dad
doesn’t say much as far as praise, but, the way he looked at you, it made me proud. I think he, in a
way, was proud of me too.”
Chapter 19
Coming Home
The jet landed in New York. It was strange being in a city that was not Folsom. There were familiar
structures and the same recognizable metropolitan pulse, but they were still very far from home.
However, she wasn’t homesick.
They stayed the night at Lucian’s brownstone in Manhattan because he’d arranged an appointment
with a doctor to remove his cast the following day. The narrow house was compact, but luxurious
nonetheless. They’d dined at a renowned steak house, and on the way home Evelyn had a sort of
epiphany.
Lucian had so many houses, but she wasn’t sure which was his home. “Where do you live?” she
asked as they climbed the steps to the brownstone.
“Pardon?”
“You have so many houses. Which one do you consider home?”
He tilted his head and unlocked the door. “I’m not sure. The estate is my home, but so is the hotel. I
love Ireland, but I also love England.”
She toed off her shoes and faced him. “Is one your favorite?”
“They’re all different now,” he said shaking his head.
“Different how?”
“Whenever I think of Ireland, I’ll think of you singing in the pub. And the ocean off the coast of
Florida was never as beautiful as when your toes first touched the water. Artifacts and historic places of England I see with new appreciation, because of seeing them through your eyes. And even my
condo in Folsom . . . that’s always been my central home, but when you left it was nothing more than a
cell. I think . . . you’re home. Wherever you are is where I want to be.”
She blinked as emotion snuck up on her. “I feel the same way,” she whispered, going up on her toes
to kiss him. “Make love to me, Lucian.”
He led her up the stairs and together they stripped off their clothes. When their bodies came
together it was a joining of souls. He was her shelter. He was her peace.
She had nothing to offer him other than herself, but that was all he ever seemed to truly want of her.
Over the past weeks, she understood so much more about who he was, and for the first time, she saw
herself.
She was no longer a girl, but a woman. No longer was she racing against all odds to find the security
she’d always coveted. She had everything she needed right there in the arms of the man she loved.
Her body writhed beneath his weight as he filled her. For him, she was a vessel of surrender, and for
her he was a tower of strength. She realized home, for either of them, did not come in the shape of
walls, but in the sense of heart. He showed her how to love and she, somehow, taught him the same.
As they lay beneath the shadows of night, holding one another tightly, she thought of all her fears
over the years. When would she eat? Where would she sleep? How would she stay warm? Lucian had
become a safe harbor for her to always come back to, but he was so much more than the reliable