Page 31 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
"Now I decide whether I care more about keeping everyone else comfortable or keeping our arrangement." How had I grown attached to this woman in such a short time after telling myself and her that we were going to keep it professional at work, that this was just sex? My obsessive trait had consumed me so quickly.
Tessa's eyes widened, and I realized I'd revealed more than I'd meant to. But standing here, with her warm against me and the city lights stretching out below us, I couldn't bring myself to take it back.
9
TESSA
The fire crackled in the hearth as I settled against his chest on the leather couch. His arms encircled me, but I could feel the tension radiating through his body despite the comfortable position.
"Tell me about the meeting," I said softly as I picked at a loose thread on his shirt.
"It doesn't concern you."
The dismissive tone would've stung weeks ago. Now I recognized it for what it was—deflection. It was him being uncomfortable with his vulnerability. "Lucian."
He sighed, his chin resting on top of my head. "Viktoria wanted to discuss rumors. Apparently, the children are concerned about my personal life affecting their social standing."
"And?"
"And she made it clear that any scandal would reflect poorly on Blake and Elena." His voice hardened. "As if she cared about protecting them during our divorce when she was leaking stories to every gossip columnist in Chicago."
I twisted in his arms to look at his face. The firelight made his face crawl with dark shadows, highlighting the tension around his eyes. "What else did she say?"
"Nothing worth repeating." His hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer. "I'd rather focus on this."
His mouth found mine, and he seemed hungry and demanding, but I pulled back gently. "Lucian, wait."
"Why?" His gray eyes darkened. "This is what we do, Tessa. This is what works." He looked confused, and I felt nervous all of a sudden.
I knew what he told me about this being no strings attached. Not for a single second did I believe we would end up in some sort of relationship, but he clearly needed a friend, and I was here.
I placed my palms flat against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the cashmere. I studied his face, seeing the walls he'd built, the careful distance he maintained even when we were skin to skin. "I don't want to be your blow-up doll," I said quietly, "even if this is supposed to be no-strings."
His expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features. "That's not what this is."
"Then talk to me. Really talk to me. You need a friend, and I'm a good listener. It doesn't mean anything except that we are two mature adults who like to participate in coitus together, and we have things in common. Alright? It doesn't have to be complicated. I can just see you're upset. I don’t want you taking that emotion out during sex if I'm the person you're having sex with. I want the sex to be free and fun."
For a long moment, he said nothing. The fire popped and hissed, and I felt uncomfortable.
My gut churned as if I'd crossed a line, but he sighed and let his shoulders loosen up as I straddled him.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than I'd ever heard it.
"My marriage failed because I was never present. I was building Cross Capital, working eighteen-hour days, traveling constantly. Viktoria used to joke that she was raising the children alone, but it wasn't funny. It was true."
I remained silent, sensing he needed to continue.
"Blake was nine when we divorced. Elena was ten, almost eleven. They blamed me for breaking up the family, for choosing work over them. And they were right." He ran a hand through his silver hair. "I missed school plays, soccer games, birthdays. I thought providing for them was enough, but children need more than money."
"You were a good father, Lucian," I said carefully, "building their future."
"Was I? Or was I just running from the responsibility of being a father? It's easier to negotiate mergers than to help with homework. Easier to close deals than to comfort a crying child."
The vulnerability in his voice made my chest ache. This powerful man who commanded boardrooms was admitting to his deepest perceived failure. I saw the ache in his eyes and heard it in his voice.
"They still love you," I said. "Children always do, even when they're hurt."
"Do they? Blake barely speaks to me unless he needs something. Elena calls maybe once a month. They see me as a bank account, not a father."
