Page 28 of All Mixed Up

Lucien’s smile was worth my embarrassment. “I am glad,” he husked, brushing his lips along my forehead. “Because I am enjoying it too.” His head rocked back, reacting to my next subtle giggle. “Do I dare ask what now?”

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I believe you, I really do. I imagine it’s a cool little novelty for you, slumming it out here on the public cruise.”

I braced for a disgruntled scowl at the least. If I was lucky—ha freaking ha—maybe a grunt and a sulk too. I did not expect just the elegant tick of his left eyebrow, making him look like a chess master considering his next move.

Thankfully, I liked chess.

No so fortunately, I couldn’t read anything about his next intent. I could only look on as he flagged down the waiter who’d just returned with our dessert: mousse au chocolat for me, a strawberry macaron plate for him.

“Merci beaucoup, Marius,” he said.

“De rien, Monsieur Paget.” The waiter smiled at us both. “Je suis heureux que vous ayez apprécié.”

“Oui. C’est formidable.”

“Et le demoiselle?”

Lucien followed the server’s expectant gaze back to me. “He wants to know if you like the cruise.”

I sent a warm smile. “I do. Very much. Merci.”

“Ah.” Marius bowed deeply. “I am glad,” he added in a thick accent. “It is rare that Monsieur Paget joins us with a guest.”

I felt my face tightening before I could help it. “Monsieur Paget has joined you before?”

“Oh, oui, mademoiselle. How do you say beaucoup?—errr, yes—many times. But he is usually dining lonely.”

I scowled deeper. Glanced between him and Lucien, who snickered before correcting, “Alone, Marius. Prononcer ‘alone.’”

Marius joined me on the frown. “It is not the same?”

“No.”

No way did I miss the pointed punch beneath Lucien’s comeback—a punch that was more like a riposting sword stab. At once, there was a matching slice in my senses. My instincts certainly hadn’t scored any bulls-eyes where reading Lucien was concerned, but I would’ve bet my prized goth onyx earrings on this reading.

That Lucien’s fresh tension was due to Marius’s direct hit at the truth.

I was validated more by Marius’s pronounced pout. As soon as he’d walked away, I slid my free hand up to Lucien’s nape. “So…how is it not the same?”

He maintained the neutral lines of his stare. Most of them. Though I tried to scale those walls with my own careful study, my concentration was no match for his. The man was a damn pro at this stuff and proved so. The glints in his gaze, matching the lights of his city for intensity, brought delicious and distracting pricks to my skin.

“I come on this cruise to be alone, chere,” he explained. “When there are too many people in my ears, too many things to think about at once. This is how I escape sometimes. When I want to simply…be.”

I tilted my head. “So like rich man’s yoga? Wine and macarons instead of headstands and chanting?”

“In a way, yes.” He circled a gaze around too. “The water relaxes me. The staff are as close as family, and they know how to leave me be. And the other diners…they invigorate me.”

My curiosity piqued. “They do?”

“Seeing the city through others’ eyes reminds me of how lucky I am to live here.” He angled his gaze back down to me, wrapping me in more layers of his dark, intense regard. “Gratitude can renew your life in an instant, n’est-ce pas?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “It definitely can.”

Oh, freaking hell. This was not routing out the man’s warts. This was simply me, falling deeper for him.

Again.

Get a grip, Juls. On your head, your crotch, and everything in between.