Page 155 of Boss of the Year
With every step, however, the world seemed to close in further.
Every voice seemed louder.
Every car was larger and faster.
People brushed past me, bumping my shoulders, laughing, shouting in French. I couldn’t seem to process the words even though I spoke the language. A man with a cigarette barked something in my direction before his laugh bounced off the buildings like a basketball. A woman in stilettos stepped into the street with careless confidence, jerking back only just before a cyclist almost hit her.
My heart beat too fast. My chest wouldn’t rise. My fingers trembled as I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to hold my body together as I continued down the street, looking for a cab I couldn’t seem to identify.
I just needed to get away. A quiet ride and four solid walls to shut out the noise.
I lifted a wooden arm at a blur of yellow headlights, but the car sped past. Another honk. Another shout. I turned in a slow, clumsy circle, searching for a taxi light, a quiet street,somethingthat would take me away from this noise, this night,him.
I stepped off the curb, trying to flag down the next car—but before I could lift my hand again, something yanked me back with a force that stole my breath.
“What the hell are you doing?” a voice snapped, low and guttural with panic.
Lucas.
I stumbled on the sidewalk, his hands gripping my waist, holding me like he didn’t trust me not to disappear again.
“Marie, please. Just stop and listen, will you?”
“Getoff!” I twisted out of his grip and started down an alley that some small part of me knew was a terrible place to escape, but which another one, probably fueled by the remainders of the absinthe, thought was the perfect way to lose someone like Lucas Lyons.
“Marie! Goddamn it—Marie, come back!”
I clipped a trash bin and stumbled farther down the alley until it bent sharply at a crumbling stone wall and turned onto a deserted cobbled road.
Not great for stilettos.
I spun back toward the road, but Lucas was already there, blocking my way.
“Move,” I ordered.
He did not.
“Stay away from me.” I backed away until my spine hit the stone wall. “I know what you did, Lucas. I saw those texts from your stepmother.”
He continued toward me, broad shoulders in a velvety progression, like a panther stalking through the grass. “I figured as much. Just like I know you haven’t listened yet to any kind of explanation.”
“I don’t need an explanation to know you were manipulating me. Seducing me. Doing everything you could to k-keep me away from your brother.”
I was trapped between the stone and the man who’d, well, if not broken my heart, certainly did something increasingly irreparable.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please, just leave me alone.”
Two fingers slid under my chin, tipping my head and forcing my eyes to meet his, fathomless and dark.
“No,” he pronounced clearly.
And then he kissed me.
This wasn’t the playful kiss of Sylvie or Riad. Nor was it the searching kiss of the stranger in the crowd. Lucas’s kiss was forceful, knowing, and familiar, but also riddled with the passion and longing that had been aching in my bones for days. The ache I’d been trying to chase away all night.
To no avail.
I know you, this kiss told me.And you know me.
