Tycoon's Forbidden Cinderella. Melanie Milburne
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blamed Sibella and not his father. ‘You’re right. Not Vegas. Besides, they want us at the wedding to witness the ceremony. Not that the invitation mentioned where it was being held, just a date and venue to be advised.’
Lucien paced the floor, reminding her of a cougar in a cat carrier. ‘Think. Think. Think.’
Audrey wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to himself. The thing was, she found it difficult to think when he was around. His presence disturbed her too much. She couldn’t stop herself studying his brooding features. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen—possibly the most.
Tall and broad-shouldered and with a jaw you could land a fighter jet on. His mouth always made her think of long, sense-drugging kisses. Not that she’d had many of those, and certainly none from him, but it didn’t stop her fantasising. He had thick, black, wavy hair that was neither long nor short but casually styled with the ends curling against his collar. He was clean-shaven but there was enough regrowth to make her wonder how it would feel to have that sexy stubble rub up against her softer skin.
Lucien stopped pacing and met her gaze and frowned. ‘What?’
Audrey blinked. ‘What?’
‘I asked first.’
She licked her lips, which felt as dry as the dust on the bookshelves. ‘I was just thinking. I always stare when I think.’
‘What are you thinking?’
How hot you look in those jeans and that close-fitting cashmere sweater.
Audrey knew she was blushing, for she could feel her cheeks roaring enough to make lighting a fire pointless. She could have warmed the whole of England with the radiant heat coming off her face. Possibly half of Europe. ‘I think the storm is getting worse.’
It was true. The lightning and thunder were much more intense and the rain had now turned into hail, landing like stones on the slate-tiled roof.
Lucien glanced out of the window and swore. ‘We’ll have to wait it out before we leave. It’s too dangerous to drive down that lane in this weather.’
Audrey folded her arms across her middle again and raised her chin. ‘I’m not leaving with you, so you can get that thought out of your head right now.’
His eyes took in her indomitable stance as if he were staring down at a small, recalcitrant child. ‘I want you with me when we finally track them down. We need to show them we are both vehemently against this marriage.’
No way was she going on a tandem search with him. ‘Were you listening?’ She planted her feet as if she were conducting a body language workshop for mules. ‘I said I’m not leaving. I’m going to stay the night and tidy this place up.’
‘With no power on?’
Audrey had forgotten about the power cut. But even if she had to rub two sticks together to make a fire she would do it rather than go anywhere with him. ‘I’ll be fine. The fire will be enough. I’m only staying the one night.’
He continued to look at her as if he thought a white van and a straitjacket might be useful right about now. ‘What about your thing with spiders?’
How like him to remind her of her embarrassing childhood phobia. But she had no reason to be ashamed these days. She’d taken control. Ridiculously expensive control. Twenty-eight sessions with a therapist that had cost more than her car. She would have done thirty sessions but she’d run out of money. Her income as a library archivist only went so far. ‘I’ve had therapy. I’m cool with spiders now. Spiders and me, we’re like that.’ She linked two of her fingers in a tight hug.
His expression looked as though he belonged as keynote speaker at a sceptics’ conference. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. Really. I’ve had hypnotherapy so I don’t get triggered when I see a spider. I can even say the word without breaking out in a sweat. I can look at pictures of them too. I even draw doodles of them.’
‘So if you turned and saw that big spider hanging from the picture rail you wouldn’t scream and throw yourself into my arms?’
Audrey tried to control the urge to turn around. She used every technique she’d been taught. She could cope with cobwebs. Sure, she could. They were pretty in a weird sort of way. Like lace...or something.
She was not going to have a totally embarrassing panic attack.
Not after all that therapy. She was going to smile at Incy-Wincy because that was what sensible people who weren’t scared spitless of spiders did, right?
Her heart rate skyrocketed. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Beads of sweat dripped between her shoulder blades as if she were leaking oil. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Her breathing stop-started as though a tormenting hand were gripping, then releasing her throat. Grip. Release. Grip. Release. Grip. Release.
What if the spider moved? What if this very second it was climbing down from the picture rail and was about to land on her head? Or scuttle down the back of her dress? Audrey shivered and took a step closer to Lucien, figuring it was a step further away from the spider even if it brought her closer to her arch-enemy Number One. ‘Y-you’re joking, right?’
‘Why don’t you turn around and see?’
Audrey didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to see the spider. She was quite happy looking at Lucien instead. Maybe her therapist should include ‘Looking at Lucien’ in her treatment plan. Diversionary therapy...or something.
This close she could smell his aftershave—a lemony and lime combo with an understory of something fresh and woodsy. It flirted with her senses, drugging them into a stupor like a bee exposed to exotic pollen. She could see the way his stubble was dotted around his mouth in little dark pinpricks. Her fingers itched to glide across the sexy rasp of his male flesh. She drew in a calming breath.
You’ve got this. You’ve spent a veritable fortune to get this.
She slowly turned around, and saw a spider dangling inches from her face.
A big one.
A ginormous one.
A genetically engineered one.
A throwback from the dinosaur age.
She gave a high-pitched yelp and turned into the rock-hard wall of Lucien’s chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in the cashmere of his sweater. She danced up and down on her toes to shake off the sensation of sticky spider feet climbing up her legs. ‘Get rid of it!’
Lucien’s hands settled on her upper arms, his fingers almost overlapping. ‘It won’t hurt you. It’s probably more frightened of you.’
She huddled closer, squeezing her eyes shut, shuddering all over. ‘I don’t care if it’s frightened of me. Tell it to get some therapy.’
She felt the rumble of his laughter against her cheek and glanced up to see a smile stretching his mouth. ‘Oh. My. God,’ she said as if witnessing a life-changing phenomenon. ‘You smiled. You actually smiled.’
His smile became lopsided, making his eyes gleam in a way she had never witnessed before. Then his gaze went to her mouth as if pulled there by a force he had no control over. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her mouth. She was as close to him as she had been to any man. Closer. Closer than she had been to him at the last wedding reception. Her entire body tingled as if tuning in to a new radar signal. Her flesh contracting, all her nerves on high alert. She could feel the gentle pressure from each of his fingers against her arms, warm and sensual.
His fingers tensed for a moment, but then he dragged his gaze away from her mouth and unwrapped her arms from his waist as if she had scorched him. ‘I’ll take care of the spider. Wait in the kitchen.’
Audrey sucked in her lower lip. ‘You’re not going to kill it...are you?’
‘That