For The Taking - Brenna Aubrey Page 0,65

year and had been going out for a few years. But I was on my way to Cambridge, a big unknown, foreign country. She really wanted to come along. My family liked her family. She wanted it. They wanted it.”

“Everyone but you wanted it?”

He shrugged. “I had no idea what I wanted. I was a kid. I just wanted to make everyone around me happy. Live up to my family’s expectations, toe the line. Be the good firstborn and do what I was supposed to do. Until I couldn’t anymore. I figured out that making myself utterly miserable to please the world around me was not a good idea. On top of that, I wasn’t ready to be a husband—hers or anyone else’s.”

I paused as he stared blandly out the window and my heart hurt. I found a familiar echo of his story in my own. We’d both been motivated to toe the family line and be the perfect child, even if perhaps for different reasons.

I glanced at him again. It was hard to rid myself of that image of Claire looking at him. She’d never taken her eyes off of us and it had been… uncomfortable. They’d been split up for six years, for heaven’s sake.

“Could Claire still be in love with you?”

One hand went to cover his face as he laughed. “Oh don’t read anything more into her behavior tonight than self-pity, and a constant craving for attention. She never loved me any more than I loved her.”

I shook my head. How messed up was all this? “Well if that’s the case, then your parents really didn’t seem to consider your feelings when they invited her tonight.”

He shrugged. “Or yours, for that matter. What if you were actually my brand new bride who cared about me? They gave us zero warning. I shouldn’t be surprised. Claire’s hung around a lot in the last six years. They like to keep the relationship with her parents and make themselves look progressive and welcoming. It’s all about how it all looks to everyone else.”

I shook my head. “Damn, that’s insensitive of them not to consider how you’d feel, though.”

He gave another dry laugh. “Not shocking since they’d never claim in a million years to be sensitive. She managed to get her claws into our family. She’s Julia’s BFF and party pal after all.”

“You all went to high school together?”

He turned, watching me out of the corner of his eye acerbically. “You just saw my family house, do you think I went to a normal public high school even if I wanted to?”

I bit my lip. “Let me guess, high end prep school in New England somewhere?”

“Bingo. New Hampshire to be exact. Claire was from Upper East Side New York City. Financial district money. My parents consider themselves inclusive and open-minded enough to accept the nouveaux riches into their inner circle.”

I laughed, and the car swerved suddenly, probably to avoid a pothole. The driver called something I couldn’t hear through the partition, possibly an apology. I lost my balance, falling against Lucas who caught me in his arms as quickly as I fell against him. I turned to apologize for falling all over him and our faces were dangerously close. There was no denying the sizzle and crackle between us. And then there was his smell, that clean bergamot and suede scent. So delectable, so masculine.

And drunk with whisky breath or not, he still looked magnificent in that suit.

Our gazes held, and I had to force myself to swallow even as I slowly sat back. He seemed to be holding his breath, too. And in that moment I knew that if I hadn’t pulled away, we would have kissed in the next moment and… well I didn’t want that did I?

Did I?

After an awkward moment where we both stared out of our respective windows, Lucas spoke again, his voice losing that previous tightness. Now it seemed like he’d gained some distance, like he was telling someone else’s story.

“One good thing came out of all this, though. I learned that I’m not a good fit for marriage. I was young and stupid and didn’t think through any of it. I was living someone else’s life.”

“Whose life?” I asked.

He gave a tight shrug. The hand that rested on the seat alongside his thigh tightened. “Lucas van den Hoehnsboek van Lynden.”

I blinked. “But… isn’t that you?” Jesus, was he about to confess to me that he had multiple personality disorder or something? Just how many

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