Page 32 of Boss of the Year
His breath heated the nape of my neck as he leaned down to rumble into my ear. “Nine thirty-four p.m. Through the back door alongside another couple. Nathan Hunt, escorting a woman who could only be your sister.”
I allowed myself to be turned again. “That’s Joni. She’s a dancer. Everyone notices her.”
“I couldn’t pick her out of a crowd now, and I doubt anyone else could either. We were all looking at you.”
My breath came up short. This was…what was he doing? It wasn’t flirting. Lucas Lyons didn’t flirt. He gave dry observations that happened to sound like compliments.
So why were his words causing goose bumps of pleasure all over my skin?
“You don’t see it, do you?”
I blinked up at him. “See what?”
I waited for his answer while he led me around a few more turns. I felt dizzy again. It was probably the champagne. Not the press of his hand between my shoulder blades nor the muscle of his thigh when it brushed between mine. Not the way his stare seemed to pin me against him, nor the way I couldn’tquiteremember the exact shade of Daniel’s eyes when I was looking at Lucas’s.
“You’re mesmerizing,” he told me.
My mouth fell open. “I—I am?”
Of all the things I expected anyone to call me,mesmerizinghad never been one of them.
“It’s just a dress.” Vaguely, I wondered why I needed to deflect the compliment. “I found it at an estate sale.”
“Well, it looks like couture on you. You’re not meant to bloom for one night, Marie. I have a feeling that whatever change you went through in Paris, it’s just getting started.”
I shied but couldn’t quite look away. “I don’t know about that.”
His dimple appeared again, followed by an impossibly sweet smile that warmed Lucas’s face so much, I swore I could feel joy heating my back through his fingertips.
He leaned down. “I do.”
And then he did the most shocking thing of all.
Lucas Lyons, CEO, patriarch, stolid grump, and brother of my one true love…kissed me.
I startled at first. Shivered in his arms despite faltering into that warm touch. Not just because of the kiss, but also at the realization that for all his stoniness, a part of Lucas Lyons wassoft.
Like the lion for which he was named, he growled, a deep and dark sound from the back of his throat that woke me from the last of my life’s old slumber.
Then, fully alert, I did the strangest thing.
I kissed him back.
8
STRAWBERRY COMPOTE
*Use half the sugar. A little sour makes it sweeter.
So,thiswas a kiss.
His lips were soft yet firm. Pliant but demanding as they opened mine and started to explore.
It wasn’t anything like I imagined. Far better than practicing on my hand, or against a door, or sometimes even my pillow during cold, lonely nights in a city brimming with lovers. My bedding couldn’t respond, but Lucas Lyonsdid.
He nibbled and lapped like my mouth was a scoop of gelato during a heatwave. The hand at my waist tightened while his other slipped around my neck and held me still, as much of a warning as an invitation to follow him deeper.
He was still in control. Always in control. But not quite taking it—rather, inviting me to give in to that solid, grounding touch laced with heat that coiled something dark in my belly before releasing like an internal sigh.
