Tycoon's Forbidden Cinderella. Melanie Milburne
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had an old-fashioned air about her that was in stark contrast to her mother’s out-there-and-up-for-anything personality.
‘Once the storm has passed I’ll check the damage to your car,’ Lucien said. ‘But for now I think we’d better formulate a plan. When was the last time you spoke to your mother?’
‘Not for a week or more.’ Her tone had a wounded quality—disappointment wrapped around each word as if her relationship with her mother wasn’t all that it could be. ‘She left the invitation and a note at my flat. I found them when I got home from work yesterday. I got the feeling she was coming here with your dad from her note when she mentioned the daffodils. I’m not sure why she didn’t text me instead. I’ve texted her since but I’ve heard nothing back and it looks like my messages haven’t been read.’
Frustration snapped at his nerves, taut with tension. What if his father had already married Sibella? What if there was a repeat of the last two divorces with the salacious scandal played out in the press for weeks on end? He had to put a stop to it. He had to. ‘They could be anywhere by now.’
‘When did you last speak to your father?’
‘About two months ago.’
Audrey’s smooth brow wrinkled. ‘You don’t keep in more regular contact?’
Lucien’s top lip curled before he could stop it. ‘He’s never quite got used to the idea of having a son.’
A look of empathy passed over her features. ‘He had you when he was very young, didn’t he?’
‘Eighteen,’ Lucien said. ‘I didn’t meet him until I was ten years old. My mother thought it was safer to keep me away from him given his hard-partying lifestyle.’
Not as if that had changed much over the years, which was another good reason to keep his father from remarrying Audrey’s mother. They encouraged each other’s bad habits. His dad would never beat the battle of the booze with Sibella by his side. The battle became a binge with a drinking buddy when Sibella was around. She had no idea of the notion of drinking in moderation. Nothing Sibella Merrington did was in moderation.
‘At least you finally met him,’ Audrey said, looking away.
‘You haven’t met yours?’
‘No. Even my mum doesn’t know who it is.’
Why did that not surprise him? ‘Does it bother you?’
She gave a little shrug, still not meeting his gaze. ‘Not particularly.’
He could tell it bothered her much more than she let on. He suddenly realised how difficult it must have been for her with only one parent and an incompetent one at that. At least he’d had his mother up until he was seventeen, when she’d died of an aneurysm. How had Audrey navigated all the potholes of childhood and adolescence without a reliable and responsible parent by her side? Sibella was still a relatively young woman, which meant she must have been not much older than Lucien’s father when she’d had Audrey.
Why hadn’t he asked her how it had been for her before now?
‘How old was your mother when she had you?’
‘Fifteen.’ Her mouth became a little downturned. ‘She hates me telling anyone that. I think she’d prefer it if I told everyone I was her younger sister. She won’t allow me to call her Mum when anyone else is around. But I guess you’ve already noticed that.’
‘I have, but then, I don’t call my father Dad, either.’
‘Because he prefers you not to?’
‘Because I prefer not to.’
She considered him for a long moment, her chocolate-brown gaze slightly puzzled. ‘If you’re not close to him then why do you care if he remarries my mother or not?’
Good question. ‘He’s not much of a father but he’s the only one I’ve got,’ Lucien said. ‘And I can’t bear to see him go through another financially crippling divorce.’
Resentment shone in her gaze. ‘Are you implying my mother asked for more than she deserved?’
‘I’m now his accountant as well as his son,’ Lucien said. ‘Another divorce would ruin him. I’ve been propping him up financially for years. It won’t just be his money he’ll be losing—it will be mine.’
Her eyebrows rose as if the notion of his generosity towards his father surprised her. ‘Oh... I didn’t realise.’ She chewed at her lip a couple of times. ‘In spite of my mother’s success as a soap star, she never seems to have enough money for bills. She blames her manager and he blames her.’
‘Do you help her out?’
‘No...not often.’
‘How often?’
Her left eye twitched and then she suddenly cocked her head like a little bird. ‘Listen. The storm’s stopped.’
Lucien pulled back the lace curtain and checked the weather. The storm had moved further down the valley and the rain had all but ceased. ‘I’ll go and check out the damage. Wait here.’
‘Stop ordering me about like I’m a child.’ Her voice had a sharp edge that reminded him of a Sunday School teacher he’d had once. ‘I’m coming with you. After all, it’s my car.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s still a car and not a mangled piece of useless metal.’
* * *
Audrey looked at the mangled piece of useless metal that used to be her car. There was no way she would be driving anywhere in that anytime soon, if ever. Half the tree had come down on top of it and crushed it like a piece of paper. At least her insurance was up to date...or was it? Her chest seized in panic. Had she paid the bill or left it until she sorted out her mother’s more pressing final notice bills?
Lucien whistled through his teeth, his gaze trained on the wreckage. ‘Just as well you weren’t sitting in there when that limb came down.’ He glanced at her. ‘Is your insurance up to date?’
Audrey disguised a swallow. ‘Yes...’
His gaze narrowed. ‘Your left eye is twitching again.’
She blinked. ‘No, it’s not.’
He came up close and brushed a fingertip below her eye. ‘There. You did it again.’
‘That’s because you’re touching me.’
His finger moved down the slope of her cheek to settle beneath her chin, elevating it so her gaze had to meet his. ‘There was a time—two times—when you begged me to touch you.’
Audrey’s cheeks felt hot enough to dry up all the puddles on the ground. ‘I’m not begging you to touch me now.’
His eyes searched between each of hers in a back and forth motion that made her heart pick up its pace. ‘Are you not?’ His voice was low and deep and caused a shiver to ripple down her spine like a ribbon running away from its spool.
His eyes were so dark a blue she could barely make out the inkblot of his pupils. She could feel his body heat emanating from his fingertip beneath her chin right throughout her body as if he were transferring sexual energy from his body to hers. Pulses of lust contracted deep in her female flesh, making her aware of her body in a way she had never felt before. She moistened her mouth, not because her lips were dry but because they were tingling as if they could already feel the hot press of his mouth.
The need to feel his mouth on hers was so intense it was like an ache spreading to every cell of her body. She could feel a distant throbbing between her legs as if that part of her was waking up from a long slumber, like Sleeping Beauty.
Lucien watched the pathway of her tongue with his midnight-blue gaze and she could sense the battle going on inside him even though he had dropped his hand from her face.