She closed her eyes as he tipped his hips and almost lifted her feet from the forest floor, his cock deeper inside her than she’d ever experienced. Tears constricted her throat and made it difficult to speak. “No,” she whispered.

“I can’t hear you.”

“No. No. No!” The words wrenched from her throat, a raw, emotion-filled admission to herself and to Lucien that no, Dan never made her feel this way. That no man had ever made her feel so soaked in lust, or so filled with dark desire, or so powerful and revered and beautiful.

Lucien’s animal, triumphant moan filled her ears, and in answer, a second, even more intense orgasm tightened her body. Slam. Slam. Slam. He clutched her as he came, and she bucked against the base of his shaft as her own release overcame her again in a glittering explosion of pleasure.

Instantly gentle now, Lucien loosed the scarf from her hands and folded her against his chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around him inside his coat and buried her face in his neck, unsure whether he was holding her, or she was holding him.

In the woods, their sex had turned primal. It had certainly brought out the beast in Lucien, brutally dragging the admissions about Dan out of her. But now it was over, Sophie found she was glad of it. He’d freed her from the fear that she’d driven Dan into the arms of another, that she just wasn’t woman enough to hold him. Lucien had made her realise that she couldn’t fix her marriage on her own, because she wasn’t the one who’d broken it in the first place.

More than that, he’d let her see how much power she had within herself: that she, Sophie Black, was enough to drive a man wild. If Dan didn’t see that, then he didn’t deserve her love.

She instinctively tightened her arms around Lucien, holding him in wonder for giving her the most intensely erotic sex she’d ever known, and in gratitude for giving her the confidence to step back into her old life again as a woman to be reckoned with.

She didn’t pretend to understand what made Lucien tick. He might run a string of sex clubs and adult stores, but in his own way he was turning out to be just about the most moral man she’d ever met.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Back on the threshold of the lodge, Lucien was hailed by his groundsman. It was clear from his expression that he was keen to have a detailed discussion with his boss. Sophie waved Lucien away when he threw her an apologetic glance, happy to make her own way to the kitchen in search of coffee.

And that is where she’d fully intended to go, at first walking straight on past the open door of Lucien’s study. But then she hesitated. It had been closed when he’d given her the guided tour and she hadn’t given it a thought, but now it stood open and there was a chance to peep behind the curtain. Lucien gave away so little of himself, yet he seemed to know so much of her. Maybe gathering a little more information, understanding a little more, would help her to see behind the façade he’d chosen to reveal.

She glanced uncertainly up and down the deserted corridor, acutely aware that an open door was not necessarily an invitation to enter. Then her curiosity overcame her scruples and she stepped inside.

The room was similarly furnished to the rest of the lodge, yet subtly different. More spartan, more pared down, distilled to reflect the essence of the man who used it.

A large, sleek desk dominated the space, and Sophie slid into the oxblood leather swivel chair behind it to survey the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows created a glass wall looking out over the fjord, more expressive than any mural or expensive artwork could ever have been. Sophie was fast learning that this building was all about making the most of that beautiful vista: every room paid homage to the slice of alpine heaven beyond.

Her eyes moved back into the confines of the study, hungry for knowledge, now that she’d allowed herself to trespass into Lucien’s sanctuary. It was bereft of ornament or art, which served only to highlight the one personal possession in the room.

Sophie reached out and touched a finger against the silver frame of the large black and white photograph on Lucien’s desk, recognising straight away the unmistakable features of the blonde child with the shining eyes. He couldn’t have been more that ten in the picture, but even as a young boy, Lucien had been breathtaking. His defined cheekbones were softened by the bloom of youth, and laughter lit up the smile that cracked his face wide open.

But it was the innocent look of love in his eyes that made Sophie’s heart contract with emotion. Lucien’s laughter and adoration were all directed towards the woman alongside him in the shot, her arms wound around his slender shoulders. She was elegantly dressed in black, with her blonde hair drawn away from her face. Discreet diamonds glinted in the delicate bracelet around her wrist.

Her gaze was focused on Lucien as she looked down, and even without the benefit of her full features turned towards the camera it was obvious that the woman could only be Lucien’s mother. The connection between them jumped out from behind the glass, and the private joke they shared excluded the world around them. Sophie sighed at the tenderness of the picture, the unbreakable bond of love between a devoted mother and son.

Holding the frame in her hands, Sophie studied the relaxed set of the boy Lucien’s shoulders and the carefree expression on his face. The man she’d come to know over the last few days was all hard angles and taut muscles, but more than that, he was all about being in control of himself and in charge of those around him. He radiated a low frequency of danger at all times, and Sophie sensed that if he needed to be, he would be utterly ruthless. What had happened to him? Where had his softness gone, the openness she saw in the picture?

Sure, everyone grows up, but the child in the photograph was a world away from the man whose arms she’d just left.

“What are you doing in here?”

Sophie’s head jerked up guiltily at the sound of Lucien’s carefully controlled voice from the doorway.  She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard his approaching footsteps, or realised that he was at the door watching her.

“I just… I wanted to…” She was thoroughly flustered, and well aware that the more she stumbled over her words, the more guilty she made herself sound.

“You wanted to what, Sophie?”

She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice before. Dead flat, and all the more predatory for its quietness.

Sophie glanced down at the frame still in her hands, and carefully set it back on the desk. So she was in his office. It wasn’t the crime of the century, he hadn’t expressly asked her not to come in here, and she hadn’t snooped around. Not really. The photograph was easily the most arresting thing in the office: the austerity of the room seemed designed to draw the eye to it, so looking at it had been a natural response. She settled her shoulders back and met his eyes.