Exhaustion rode Lucas hard, pushing him down in the sofa until he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to gain his feet again. He wanted a shower and his soft Egyptian cotton sheets in his king-sized bed, but he was afraid he couldn’t hold himself up in the shower.
He’d just rest there for a moment and then maybe swallow a painkiller before attempting a shower. Whatever they’d given him in the hospital was wearing off and all the aches were seeping back in.
“Mr. Vallois?”
It was the first time he’d heard Andrei speak. Fuck, what a voice. Low and heavy—masculine in a way that made Lucas’s body instantly warm. Andrei had an accent—faint, as if he was trying to hide it—but Lucas couldn’t place it. Definitely nothing local. The first tendrils of fire curled low in his gut and Lucas wanted to growl. The hunger that had started to make itself known in the elevator was slinking back.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Lucas’s eyes popped open, unable to hide his surprise. Andrei stood directly in front of him, only a battered wooden trunk Lucas used as a coffee table separated them. The man hadn’t made a sound.
“I’m sure your employer doesn’t want you playing nursemaid,” Lucas said, grinding out the flickering spark of attraction. He didn’t touch straight men. He also didn’t do repeats and there was no pushing Andrei out the damned door after an enjoyable fuck. They were stuck together as long as Lucas was in danger. Acting on this attraction? Too complicated. Too messy. Still, his gaze slid down to those muscled thighs.
“You’ll be much easier to protect when you’re healthy and mobile,” Andrei admitted with a smile that pulled Lucas’s gaze back up. Damn. That little twist of his lips drew his eyes, stoking the fire. Andrei’s upper lip poked out a bit, a sensual invitation. Lucas wanted to lick it, then work his way slowly down the rest of him.
“So a healthy me is in your best interest?”
The smirk grew into a wide grin. “Both of our best interests.”
“Fair enough,” Lucas grudgingly said, trying to tap down the crazy attraction he felt. Luckily, he had other aches to distract him. “Where are the painkillers?”
“I put them in the master bath.”
Clenching his teeth, Lucas pushed to his feet, instantly grateful the man had enough brains not to help him up. As soon as he took a step, the landline jangled two sharp rings and then paused before repeating. “Could you get that while I find the pills? It’s the front security desk.”
Andrei nodded, heading for the cordless phone in the kitchen. “You want company?”
“No,” Lucas growled. Even a visit from Snow wouldn’t have been welcome. He wanted peace and quiet. He wanted to settle back into his routine and forget about what happened in the alley, block out the pain spreading through his body, and work on a plan for how he was going to fix this problem.
Lucas trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, only vaguely aware that Andrei sounded like he was arguing with whoever was on the line. He was just at the bathroom door when Andrei’s voice caught him.
“Mr. Vallois?”
Lucas’s hand clenched the doorjamb and he closed his eyes for a second. How could Andrei make his voice sound so damned sexy? Lucas couldn’t decide if getting him to use his given name would be better or worse. So easily he could imagine Andrei panting his name, a note of pleading catching the last syllable in the back of his throat as Lucas sank deep inside him. Okay, first name would definitely be worse.
He glanced over his shoulder to find confusion bringing together Andrei’s dark eyebrows as he covered the phone with his hand.
“There’s a woman claiming to be your fiancée. She’s demanding to come up. I…I think she’s scared the security guard.” Surprise threaded Andrei’s words.
“Stephanie.” Lucas groaned, dropping his head back. Ice water washed over his libido, extinguishing those flickering flames in an instant. “Fuck.” The last thing he felt like dealing with was the woman he’d been seeing the last few months. A woman who was certainly not his fiancée.
“Mr. Vallois?”
“Let her up. If nothing, it’ll be entertaining.” Lucas stepped into the bathroom to grab the prescription bottle off the black marble countertop.
He glanced up at the mirror and winced. It was the first time he’d seen his reflection in two days. He looked like shit with one black eye highlighted by stitches and a bruise on his opposite cheek, only partially hidden by two days growth of black stubble. His bottom lip was split and slightly swollen. Shadows hollowed his cheeks, making him look ragged and worn and every bit of his thirty-eight years. He shrugged. It could have been a lot worse. He popped one pill and took a drink of water before shuffling back to the first floor.