I put the car in the garage and went inside and headed to the kitchen for a drink. The light over the stove was on and Duran stood at the counter, shirtless, with a glass of bourbon in his hand. When I entered, he froze, looking up with his dark eyes wary like an animal.
“You’re back late,” he said.
“I needed to catch up on a few things,” I said, taking the bottle from him.
He swirled the liquid in his glass for a long moment, his gaze still fixed on me. “Look, I know you’ve always looked out for me. Protected me,” he said slowly. “I just had some intense flashbacks last night, because of how rough our father was with mom. But I shouldn’t have assumed you would hurt Olivia.”
It hadn’t crossed my mind that was reason and a pang of guilt went through me. Of course, it made sense now. Even as an adult, Duran still bore the marks of someone who’d grown up around abuse and violence. And despite the tough front he put on, I knew he was by far the more sensitive son. I had taken the brunt of it, but I’d dealt with it far better than Duran had. I had managed to make some sense of it and found a way to turn it into something I could control. But Duran hadn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
His brows rose. It was one of the few times in our lives I’d apologized to him.
“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat.
I set the bottle aside. “I should go to bed.”
He nodded and I left him standing there, his face half darkened by shadow. I went upstairs to my bedroom and pushed open the door slowly, the scent of roses hitting my nose. The bedside lamp was on and Olivia was curled up in a cloud of white sheets and blankets. She wore a silky, green nightgown that just brushed the top of her thigh and her dark hair was braided over her shoulder.
When I stepped inside, she looked up and closed her book. I stood for a moment, looking around the room in surprise. For some reason, when I’d ordered the flowers, I’d imagined very small roses, like the kind that grew in our garden. No, these were large white roses and there were dozens of bouquets filling every space in the room. Set up on the dresser, along the windowsill, even on the floor.
“Thank you for the flowers,” she said.
I felt a muscle twitch in my face. “I might have gone a little overboard.”
“You might have.”
I slipped my coat and vest off and rolled up my sleeves. “I’m sorry, baby.”
She sat up, her slender legs hanging off the bed. “I wasn’t angry, Lucien, just hurt.”
I went to her, kneeling in front of her and running my fingertips over her thighs. “I never meant to insinuate that you were trying to dress for Romano or anything like that. He’s a monster and I know it’s painful for you to even be around him. And I’m sorry that you have to be.”
She bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting.
“I’m sorry I lost control, that I embarrassed you. I’m sorry for all of it. But most of all, I need you to understand that it will never happen again. And I mean that.”
Her eyes were wet and soft as they fixed on me. Her fingers ran down the side of my face and she kissed me, her mouth impossibly gentle. “Thank you, of course I forgive you.”
“Good.” I kissed the side of her neck.
“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”
“More than anything,” I murmured, my mouth still pressed against the soft skin of her throat.
She drew back to look in my eyes. “You’re a frightening man. You’re still so…bitterly cold inside sometimes. And you’re power hungry and willing to do anything to get what you want.”
“That’s true.” What was the point in denying it?
“But I love you,” she whispered. “I don’t care if you scare me sometimes, I know you would never hurt me.”
“Never.”
She traced my face with her soft fingertips, touching down the bridge of my nose, circling my mouth. “Did you pick out the jewelry or did your secretary?”
“I had my assistant do it. She’s got better taste than I do,” I said.
She went to the dresser, taking out a large, flat box covered in black velvet. I rose and crossed to her as she turned it around and lifted the lid. Inside was a thick, diamond necklace with glittering stones hanging like dewdrops. She slipped it from the box and I took it from her, turning her to face the mirror over the dresser. Her body tensed a little as the cold metal touched her skin and I clasped it at the nape of her neck.