Page 78 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
“Have you told your mother and father that we’re looking for your birth parents?” he says.
Boom. All that golden goodwill disappears in an instant. Even his deep sexy voice can’t overcome the sting of the message. I know the spell was a fragile thing and I know it’s not Lucas’s fault for breaking the spell. It’s not like he’s trying to ruin a good mood. Or is it?
“Sucky time to bring that up,” I say. “I was happy and enjoying just being here, warm, cushioned in your arms.” I expect him to squeeze me tight and whisper in my ear to forget he ever said a word, but he doesn’t.
He kisses my temple and says, “Then I have my answer. You didn’t tell them.”
“Since when are you my conscience?” I’m trying to sound more playful than petulant, but since I’m almost resentful, it doesn’t carry off.
He chuckles. It’s that deep resonant sound that vibrates in a way that turns me to jelly, turns me on. God, I’m hopeless.
“Always,” he says.
Now it’s my turn to chuckle because I know it’s true. I turn in the seat to face him.
“What about you? You’re not Mr. Perfect.” I pause to give him a chance to disagree, but he doesn’t. Of course not. “I’ll tell my parents, but as you know, it won’t be easy for them to hear. I think I should do it in person.”
“Do you want me to be with you?”
I know this is a trick question. I know he wants to be with me, and I really want him to be there too. But I also know if I keep leaning on him, I’ll weaken. I need to stand on my own. He talks while I take too long to respond.
“You can do it on your own if you need to. I understand this is a private affair between you and your parents. But you know I’m here to support you. That’s what couples do.”
“You’re right.” I’m proud that I didn’t cringe at the wordcouple. “I really would love you to come with me.” I pause to add meaning to my next words. “But I’ll do all the talking.”
Is he right about couples and support? Or is he so convincing because I’m already weak beyond repair? I don’t know, but I figure since hiring the investigator was his idea and he’s paying for it, he has a stake in it. Beyond the couple thing.
The limo pulls up in front of the curb of a mid-rise office building on 23rdStreet near the Flatiron Building. As is his habit, Lucas doesn’t wait for the driver to get the door. He gets out and I slide over and he holds my hand like I’m a princess, helping me emerge from the limo. Maybe I feel a little like Cinderella at that moment and it’s an embarrassingly pleasant feeling. The pleasantness promptly gets buried under a heap of worry that I’m turning into a fluffball.
“I didn’t ask you how your first day on the job was,” he says as I stand next to him on the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been concentrating on the investigator finding your birth parents and that has such enormous implications that I’ve forgotten about everything else.” He squeezes my hand, levels that X-rated smile at me and says, “How was your day?”
Standing mute, I’m torn between throwing myself into his arms for being so considerate, for knowing the perfect diversion, knowing what I needed to think about right now, and blurting that I kicked ass and I’ll have my boss’s job in no time. But being the strategic person that I am, expert at holding back first impulses—even in the company of my kryptonite sometimes, because Lucas is my kryptonite, face it—I don’t do either.
I smile and say, “I didn’t ask you about your day either. We’re both taken up by this investigation and finding my parents. Let’s talk about it after.” I wave one hand at the building, a jump of nerves biting me, stealing my poise.
Letting go of my hand, he wraps an arm around me because he knows. This is why I don’t bother to hold back first impulses with Lucas. Because he sees through attempts by me to hide my emotional truths.
“Let’s go and meet Ms. Barbara Bench.”
He sweeps me inside and I pull away, trying to stand apart, but close. He lets me go as we walk past the security desk to the elevator.
“A woman private eye? Cool,” I say as the doors slide closed.
He gives an elegant lift of his broad shoulders that would be a mere shrug if executed by anyone else. But Lucas carries it off with such élan, such captivating confidence, that I lean into him again, wanting to be part of that confidence.
“She was highly recommended. Ms. Bench specializes in finding birth parents for people adopted as children.”
“I had no idea there would be a market for that kind of specialty.” The elevator zooms upward. We’re only going to the 7thfloor so it’s a short ride.
“It’s not a big market, but she makes up for it with exorbitant fees. She’s the best in the world, I’m told.” He says this as the doors open into the lobby with large but tasteful lettering spelling outBenchmark Investigations.
The mention of exorbitant fees stings, but I’m distracted by the space. Even though I’m impressed, I forbid myself from showing it. That’s always been one of my cardinal rules. Never act overly impressed. Mild appreciation is the most I allow and only under the safest of circumstances. A show of admiration is instant vulnerability. And any show of vulnerability with strangers is dangerous.
Lucas had been the exception when I met him. But I’d been very lucky, I remind myself.
“She said to buzz the door to the left,” he says and we walk that way. He presses the buzzer and we wait. The glass doors show a swanky reception area and conference room beyond.
Taking a deep breath, I made my mind blank. It wasn’t hard to do with Lucas’s presence blotting out thought with his sensual power. While I inhale his masculine vapors, I see a woman dressed in a dark pants suit walk to the glass door and open it.
