Lucien studied his housekeeper.
Leah was hardly a girl. She was forty years old, for God’s sake.
She was, of course, beautiful. But sweet?
“How is she?” Lucien found himself asking and he had no earthly idea why.
He had also, in the years he’d employed Edwina, never requested such information.
Then again he’d never needed to.
“Oh, she’s fine. Settling in. She’s so cute. You should have seen her tonight. She was hilarious.”
Fascinated by the idea of a cute, hilarious, sweet Leah “settling in”, Lucien tired of the discourse with Edwina and headed for the stairs.
“Good night!” Edwina trilled gaily behind him.
Lucien didn’t reply.
Five strides into their room, Lucien saw Leah exiting the bathroom. He again halted.
She was wearing the lingerie he’d sent.
He saw he’d been wrong in his thoughts when he’d watched the stick thin model sashaying down the short runway displaying it at his personal showing when he was ordering Leah’s wardrobe the day after her Selection.
He had, in his mind, expected it to look far better on Leah’s generous curves.
However, he had not anticipated it looking that much better.
She was wearing her robe over it but the robe had fallen open at her sides exposing the camisole and pants. The cups of the camisole hugged her full br**sts, the silk ending just above the nipple so a tantalizing hint of the aureole peeked through the lace, a chill in the air obviously causing her ni**les to harden against the silk. It hugged her midriff and stomach like it had been made for her. The hem of the camisole left only a glimpse of smooth skin above the underwear. Her long legs went on forever beneath the lace of the panties.
He felt his body’s immediate response to the sight of her and he liked it.
Her face had been averted when she walked out of the bathroom but it snapped around, she focused on him and cried, “Lucien!”
Lucien only had a moment to brace before she flew at him, running flat out across the room and at the last instant launched herself full body at him.
Stunned and unsure of her intent, he caught her in his arms, his hands cupping her ass as she wrapped her long limbs around him.
Instead of attempting, however pointless such an effort would be, to tear him limb-from-limb, she caught his gaze and he noticed she, too, was under the influence.
Very much so.
“Hello, darling, how was your day?” she purred cheerfully, if drunkenly.
“Interesting,” he replied truthfully, this exact moment being indicative of his interesting day.
He was on guard, not certain what her game was.
His day had been interesting. Starting with the roller coaster ride of their morning and ending with Leah’s current behavior, it included an afternoon meeting with her aunts. A meeting where they explained their concern that they hadn’t heard from Leah after The Bloodletting. A meeting where he declared his intentions and ascertained their tentative allegiance. They were hesitant, considering what it might mean to the future of their family, indeed to the future of all concubines. But they were also not willing to defy him.
He wasn’t entirely surprised at this. They were Buchanans and obedience had been ingrained in them for centuries.
Leah’s hand moved to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, bringing his attention back to her.
“Mine was too,” she shared.
“Is that so?”