Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Scout looked down at her sloppy handwriting and thought about what this meant. Did Lucian know her blood work came back clean? Yes, he probably knew before she did. She was substantially relieved she wasn’t sick. So many people had so many different sicknesses, and although she was always careful with her mother, there was always a risk.
Her gaze landed on her underwear. Perhaps she should change into something a little fancier. Her stomach did a cartwheel at the thought. She tucked the number into her bag and walked some more. On her fifth trip past the bag with all the fancy panties, she stopped and pulled out a lacy blue pair.
At ten minutes to, she brushed her teeth, freshened her lip gloss and slipped into her gown. She couldn’t get the zipper all the way up on her own. She didn’t want to walk through the hotel half-dressed, but she tried to reach every which way for the zipper and couldn’t. Slipping on her shoes, Scout grabbed her key and, again, placed the Do Not Disturb placard on the door before she left.
When the gilded elevator arrived at Lucian’s suite, she was ridiculously nervous, her anxiety causing her stomach to cramp painfully. She wasn’t late, but feared he’d be upset with her anyway. Maybe he was still mad about this morning. She’d had time to cool off and wanted to forget about the whole thing. She took a steadying breath and knocked, realizing she forgot the room key he’d given her.
Chapter 12
Scattered Pictures
The door opened and Scout’s mouth gaped. Lucian was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo and looked incredible.
“Evelyn, my God, you look . . . words fail me.”
She smiled nervously. “Fail you in a good way or a bad way?”
“Good,” he rasped. “Definitely good.”
“Glad to hear it, because I got the shit kicked out of me at that torture chamber you’re passing off as a spa down there. Can you help me zip my dress?” She stepped in and hid a smirk. Seems she had rendered Mr. Patras, hotel tycoon, bazillionaire, entrepreneur extraordinaire, speechless.
He stepped back and shut the door. Presenting him her back, she shivered at the soft touch of his fingers as they slowly pulled the zipper up. Her back was still very exposed, but at least now the dress fit properly. She turned.
“Thank you. You look very handsome, Mr. Patras.”
“You’re stunning, Ms. Keats. I’m wondering if I should keep you here instead.”
Scout tilted her head. “Why?”
“Protect my queen.” His reflective complement was incredibly flattering. Warmth spread through her chest and she smiled at him for a moment, not quite sure what to say next. He turned briskly.
“I have something for you.”
“You do?” She followed him to the common area and he handed her a large, heavy gift box with a navy blue bow. “What is it?”
“Open it. I saw it this afternoon and thought of you.”
Grinning foolishly, she pulled the satin ribbon back. It gathered in a large loop and fell to the ground. She placed the box on the seat of the settee and shimmied the fitted lid off. When she saw something furry, she jumped. “What—what is it?”
Lucian reached into the box and pulled out a stunning white, silk-lined fur coat. “I realized we forgot to get you a dress coat for formal functions. Here, try it on.”
“Is it real?”
“Quite.” He held the coat open for her to step into.
“Don’t people hate people who wear fur?”
“They’re all hypocrites. The Americans slaughter billions of animals a year for clothing, cars, furniture, shoes, and exotic food, but protesters only seem to care about the cute fuzzy ones.”
He had a point.
She slipped into the coat, its silk lining cool against her skin. It engulfed her. The fur was heavy, but it was likely the warmest, softest thing she’d ever put on her body.
“My God, Lucian, it’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it. Shall we go?”
She simply stared at him. The coat must have cost a fortune. She reached for his hand and slowed his escape.
“You’re very generous,” she whispered. “No one’s ever done so much for me in my entire life. I’m not even sure how to accept such openhandedness.”
He frowned. “It means nothing to me. It’s just a coat.”
As he presented her his back, she was shocked by how hurtful his words were. Means nothing? Perhaps purchasing a coat like this was the equivalent to purchasing a roll of toilet paper to an ordinary person. Scout found herself blinking back tears no matter how she spun his comment.
Her emotions baffled her. This was not supposed to be an emotional exchange. She was being overly sensitive and needed to knock it off.
Lucian retuned wearing his own coat. “Ready?”
She merely nodded, her voice lodged somewhere in the pit of her stomach beneath her bruised heart.
They took the limo and rode in silence. Lucian seemed preoccupied. Scout stared out the window the entire time, but also studied him in the reflection. Sometimes she saw him looking at her and wondered what he was thinking.