Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,78

up for answering even the one question he’d given her, let alone the many she, of all people, must have.

“The wine made me sleepy.”

He peered down at her but could only see her chin because her head was tilted. Such a good girl, knowing to move things along so as not to linger in a place he hated visiting. Her generosity made their quiet time a relaxing place to be.

“I don’t know why you have such an aversion to cuddling, Mr. Fane,” she murmured a long while later. “You’re very good at it.”

Come, boys, Miruna. Get up here and cuddle with Papa before I head to school. Nothing brightens my day more than hugs from my clan.

Lucian waited to finally feel the need to shove her to the floor. He waited for that suffocating urge to flee from the tenderness she was inflicting on him, forcing the shit into their dynamic that was supposed to have been dirty, hardcore sex with minimal personal interaction.

Nothing came.

Until the sound of voices reached his ears. His head swiveled, and he glared at the door. “Gheorghe,” he said under his breath, recognizing his cousin’s voice. He should be back in New York by now, not Romania.

Yasmeen sat up. “That’s your cousin, right?” She went to slide off his lap, but he held her in place.

“Yes. Stay. I want them to see they are interrupting.”

She tried harder to move as footsteps came closer. “No. Finding us like this will make everyone uncomfortable.”

“They should be uncomfortable. They know better than to invade my private time.”

Sorin was the first to appear in the doorway. His beard twitched when he saw Lucian and Yasmeen’s intimate position at the table. But when his sharp gaze passed over and then shot back to Yasmeen’s choker, his mouth became a tight slash. Censure dripped from his words. “Please forgive the interruption—that clearly should have come sooner—but you have company. One of which has some interest in your guest.”

Lucian was finding the language barrier more and more convenient. Yasmeen even seemed to be getting used to being excluded from certain conversations.

Gheorghe shoved by Sorin, his eyes dark with annoyance. He was Lucian’s height and shared his coloring, but where Lucian generally kept his appearance neat, Gheorghe was the opposite. He forever looked as if he was a day late for a shave, and a few months late for a haircut. The dark mass currently reached the collar of his black suit jacket. His black shirt was open at the throat, and he looked as if he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. He still had a blood-red pocket square over his heart. Lucian knew it would remain there for the traditional forty-day mourning period.

When Gheorghe moved to reveal who he’d brought as protection on this trip, Lucian couldn’t have been more surprised. Claude Moraux. Markus’s partner. Markus’s lover. Secret lover. Claude stood at a rock-solid six-foot-four, had a steely gray stare, and was as French as they came. He’d worked for Lucian for a lot of years and was one of his best shadows. Deadly. Just the way Lucian like them.

“So you do have her here,” Gheorghe said without greeting them.

When Yasmeen moved, Lucian allowed it. Though his need to protect his private sanctum was growing by the second. He got to his feet and didn’t care in the least how strange it appeared when he tucked his pet behind him so the others couldn’t see her. He briefly savored the moment when her hands settled on his waist and her cheek pressed into his spine. What did they call people like her? Touchy-feely? Another surprise; he was coming to appreciate the character trait more and more.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he greeted as a proper host should. His gaze settled on his cousin. “Give me one reason why I should not have you both taken from this room and brought back to the airport at gunpoint?” Unless Markus had taught Claude his language, the Frenchman wouldn’t know what was being said any more than Yasmeen would.

Gheorghe’s mouth twitched. “Since Vex couldn’t get through to Sorin anymore, he’s taken to calling me. Said Melinda is on him again about you kidnapping the beauty you’re trying to hide. Yasmeen, right? Isn’t that her name?” He craned his neck as if trying to catch a glimpse.

The hair on Lucian’s nape sprang up in the same way his Dobermans’ did when they heard an unfamiliar voice in the Hampton’s house. “Her friend’s name is Miranda. And my beauty