“Okay,” she whispered.
Lucien sighed.
Then he stated, “Let’s go home.”
“Okay,” she repeated.
He touched his mouth to hers again then let her go only to take her hand and draw her to the front door. He knew she turned back to the windows to wave to her family and Avery.
He did not.
He took her out to his Porsche and took her home.
Chapter Twenty
The Lunch
“Mother,” Lucien’s son hissed, “stop it.”
She wouldn’t. I knew this. I’d been in Cressida’s presence for an hour and I knew this.
Lucien’s ex was a total bitch. I hated her. I tried not to be a hater but she was the kind of woman that even Mother Theresa would consider bitch-slapping.
But Cressida wasn’t my concern. I was a woman. I’d encountered bitches.
It was Lucien’s father Etienne who gave me the creeps. And he did this because he enjoyed Cressida playing with me. Every catty comment out of her mouth, his eyes flashed with a sick happy light and they moved to me to assess my response. I didn’t know how I knew it but I knew he was waiting for me to break no matter what way that was. To be hurt. To get angry. Just as long as it was negative or damaging.
Vampires were human-ish. This meant that Lucien shared this man’s DNA which I found impossible to believe. Lucien could be a jerk but he was a hot jerk who could be funny, sweet and gentle. Etienne was none of these (except, damnably I had to admit, the hot part) and proud of it. If Magdalene wasn’t sweet and openly loving, I would think she stepped out on Etienne. There was nothing in Lucien that was like his father. They didn’t even look alike, Etienne being blond and blue-eyed, tall but lean for a vampire. Lucien looked like his mother. In fact, he was the uber-masculine image of her classically beautiful femininity.
Cressida turned her (damnably I had to admit, gorgeous) sky blue eyes to her son and asked with fake innocence, “Stop what?”
Julian glared at her then ordered, “We need to talk in the study.”
She threw out an elegant hand to the dining table at which Edwina was currently serving us dessert. “But, we haven’t finished lunch.”
Julian pushed his chair back, declaring, “You have.”
“Julian, don’t be rude,” Cressida returned.
I looked to my lap and smiled because that was hilarious coming from her. She’d been rude from the get-go when she took my hand, squeezed it and murmured, “Mm… tasty.”
“Study, Mother, now,” Julian growled and I looked to Lucien’s son.
It was bizarre how Lucien, who I knew was over eight hundred years old but this didn’t penetrate considering his looks and vitality, had two grown children. It was also bizarre that his parents looked like his contemporaries. And it was equally bizarre how both his children clearly got the best selections in the gene pool they were offered. Julian was gorgeous in his father’s raw, manly way. Isobel was beautiful in what had to have been her mother’s delicate way but Lucien was still stamped all over her.
I liked them both. They were obviously close and affectionate with each other, their father and their grandmother and, until now, patient with Cressida. They also were cautious and watchful with their grandfather which meant they were far from stupid. And they were kind and welcoming to me which was nice.
On this thought, I heard Lucien command, “Go with Julian.”
My head came up and I looked down the table to the head where Lucien was sitting. I was at the foot. Lucien seated me where I was and I didn’t think anything was amiss with this, considering it was my house. But when he did this, the rest exchanged looks and I jotted this down on my mental list of what to talk to Lucien about later.
He was also glaring at Cressida and it was clear he did not find anything amusing.
Cressida looked to Lucien and grinned cattily, “I don’t want to miss Edwina’s dessert.” Her head then turned to me and she finished. “I’ve known Edwina for years. She’s the best cook. Don’t you agree?”
Her meaning was clear.
See?