Coming Home (The Surrender Trilogy 3)

lips.

“It’s nice to see that they know when to take the trash out around here,” she muttered snootily.

Scout unsteadily stepped forward and Lucian held up a hand halting her. Nicole gracefully slid into

the limo and Lucian stepped to the door. “Darling . . .” the shadow of her arm extended over the seat

and Scout could imagine her self-satisfied grin.

“Dugan, take Ms. Nottingham home.” He slammed the door.

“Gladly,” Dugan said, rounding the front of the car.

Scout stood paralyzed. He’d sent her away. For some reason the triumph at seeing the car drive off

was bittersweet. Nothing would erase the scene she caused tonight, but Scout knew she’d won in some

fashion.

Lucian turned and faced her, his hands in his pockets. His anger seemed replaced with something

else. She caught the slight way the side of his mouth kicked up as he stared down at her. She didn’t

know what to say.

He turned to Nick. “I’ll be seeing Ms. Keats home this evening. Thank you for bringing her.”

“Uh . . .” Nick looked at her for conformation. “Ev?”

She glanced nervously at her co-worker, betting he never imagined their evening playing out like

this. “It’s fine. Lucian can take me home. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Lucian frowned.

She ignored him. “Thank you for being my date.”

Nick nodded slowly and handed over her purse. She took it and they watched as he climbed into his

truck and drove away, the roar of the engine fading away in the distance. Lucian turned and glanced at

her. He didn’t say a word, just watched her.

She shifted on her ridiculous shoes. “Is Dugan coming back for us?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“How are we getting out of here?”

“I’ll hail a cab.” His hands remained in his pockets as if he were forcing himself to keep them there.

“Why did you come here tonight, Evelyn?”

She looked down. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me.”

“I wanted to see . . .”

“Me?”

“Her,” she admitted. “I wanted to see who she was.”

“She’s nothing.”

She laughed without humor. “Don’t tell her that.”

“I’m sorry she spoke to you that way.”

Scout met his gaze. “She wants you.”

He smirked. “She can’t have me.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No.”

“Kiss her?”

“No.”

“Are you attracted to her?”

“I’m attracted to you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He drew in a slow breath. “Nicole’s an attractive woman, but she isn’t my type.”

“She looks nothing like me.”

“Exactly,” he said. A few beats passed. “How do you know Nick Ramsey? Who is he to you?”

“He works with me.”

“Are you attracted to him?”

She smirked. “He’s not my type.”

Lucian smirked and stepped closer. His hand slipped from his pocked and he ran his fingers down

the filmy sheath of her dress. “This dress is something else. Did you buy it for me?”

She shut her eyes and breathed him in. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Lucian—”

“Will you come home with me?”

Her eyes shot open. She was frustrated her intoxicated brain was not as sharp as it should be. “I

can’t.”

“You can. You just have to say yes. I’ll take care of you. Get you something for your hangover in

the morning.”

His hand traveled up her neck to her ear, tugging on her lobe softly and sending shivers chasing

over her shoulders and down her spine. Her lashes lowered as she tipped her head back. She could fall

asleep. “We shouldn’t.”

“I won’t touch you. It’ll kill me, but I’ll behave. I know you’re drunk. Come home with me, Evelyn.

I miss you in my bed.”

She breathed through her nose, swaying just enough to remain upright. “Now who’s lying?”

“Say yes,” he rasped.

She barely made a sound. “Yes,” she breathed.

That one word snapped him into motion. A cab was hailed and she was tugged inside. The broken-in

leather was sunken in and soft. She shut her eyes and moaned as the car lurched forward. Her stomach

was not happy.

“You okay, baby? Want some water? I still have the bottle Dugan gave me.”

She held out her hand blindly and heard him unscrew the top. Drawing the bottle to her lips, she

drank greedily, causing the plastic to crackle in her grip. Lucian sat quietly in the dark. His fingers delicately traced up and down her thigh. The motions of the car made her insides swirl nauseatingly

but his touch kept her grounded, a tight smile pulling on her lips.

Visions of the evening danced in her head, distorted and not lining up with what she recalled. Red

dresses and sharp tongues, tuxedoes and sunrises. Bodies writhing and pounding music thrumming in

her ears. Slowly, the visions faded away and all that was left was the gentle sway of the car and

Lucian’s touch caressing her knee.

“We’re here,” he whispered.

“Mmphh.” She was too tired to form words, afraid if she opened her eyes the dizziness would

intensify and make her ill. Her body was lifted and slid into warm fresh air and then familiar scents,

rich with nostalgic meaning, greeted her nose. His shoes clicked on the refined tile underfoot as he

carried her to wherever they were going. Something pinged and the scent changed to faded perfume