It has been eight days since I’ve seen Lucian. He texted me a couple times to ask how I am doing, saying he has some things going on at work that are keeping him busy. Regardless of what he says, I know this is about the nightmare and his need to pull away from me because of it. I go about my life, and I continue to show up at his apartment on my usual schedule, but he is never there. Only the dirty clothes and unmade bed show me he is indeed coming home at some point. I try not to let it show, but the loss of his presence in my life is taking a toll on me. I miss him so damn much. I alternate between wanting to send him a nasty text and begging to see him again. Not stalking his office is one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

Rose has tried to question me about it, but she finally backed off when I snapped her head off one time too many. I also have my court appearance coming up at the end of the week, and I am a bundle of nerves at the thought of seeing my stepfather and my mother. I feel lonely and depressed as I walk down the hallway to Lucian’s apartment. As I open the door and step over the threshold, I freeze. Even with no visual proof, I know he’s here. The smell of coffee is heavy in the air and as I stand quietly, the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen can be heard.

I set my keys and purse on the entryway table and walk slowly in the direction of the sound. Lucian is standing at the island with his back to me. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt. His hair is damp, indicating a recent shower. I stand drinking him in, my eyes roaming over him hungrily. God, I have missed him so much. I see the moment he becomes aware of my presence; his body straightens, and his breath seems to catch. When he spins around, we both just look at each other. Finally, he gives me a lopsided grin, saying, “Hey, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Hi,” I manage to croak out. He called me baby. Does that mean things are okay between us? Do I care? Shouldn’t I be pissed off at him? I mean, I know we aren’t in a formal relationship, but don’t I deserve some kind of explanation for his disappearance? Shit, now I sound like all the other girls I knew who ended up complete basket cases over a man. When he walks over and pulls me into his arms, I am rigid, unsure of what we’re doing.

I am completely floored when he puts his forehead against mine and simply stays there for a moment. “I’m sorry, baby.” I know he’s referring to the disappearing act he has pulled on me for the last week.

“Did I do something?” I cringe, knowing the question makes me sound like an unsophisticated child, but I really need to know if I have done something to make him pull away.

He pulls back to kiss the tip of my nose before pulling me fully into his arms. “No, Lia,” he murmurs against the curve of my neck. “I just…lost it when I hurt you that night. It’s been a long time since I’ve had those dreams, and that was one of the worst I can remember. I could have really hurt you, and it scared the hell out of me.”

“Luc, it was nothing. I barely bumped my head. I should have known better than to startle someone who was clearly dreaming. If anything, it was my fault.”

He leans down, kissing me lightly, his gaze roaming my face. “We just need to be more careful,” he says lightly. “I…have some sleeping pills I can take at night that help if it continues to happen. Just get up and leave me the next time, baby. Please don’t run the risk of touching me. Eventually, I’ll wake myself up; I always do.”

“What are the dreams about? You’ve obviously been having them off and on for a while. Are they…memories of something happening to you?”

He stares at some point past my shoulder for a moment, and just when I think he’s going to ignore my question, he says, “It’s something that happened a long time ago.” He pulls back and motions toward his cup. “Coffee?” I know the subject is closed as far as he’s concerned. I let it go because even with the secrets between us, I’m thrilled to see him and don’t want to do anything to change that. I’ve only known Lucian a short while, and it’s way too early in whatever kind of relationship we have to demand all his secrets.

I walk over to where he is pouring my cup of coffee and lean against his muscular back. I just need a few more minutes of physical contact after days of being deprived of his warmth. When he turns to pull me back into his arms, the look he gives me tells me he feels the same way. Whatever this thing is between us, one thing is clear: I’m not the only one who has suffered the last week. “I missed you,” I admit against his chest.

His arms tighten around me, one hand tangling in my hair. “Me too, baby, too fucking much. Spend the day with me?”

I think fleetingly of my school and his work. I have just gotten caught up on everything I missed when I was out for a few days with the flu. I don’t give a damn, though. If he is willing to play hooky today, then I’m more than happy to join him. “Really? What do you have in mind, handsome?” He chuckles against me, knowing I’m teasing him.

“I thought we could drive out to my house. I haven’t been there in a few weeks, and I need to check on things. There’s an indoor pool, so we can go for a swim, if you like. Just have a lazy day doing whatever we want.”

Grinning, I say, “That sounds perfect, but I don’t have a swimsuit with me. Could we drop by my apartment on the way?”

He pulls away, swatting my ass lightly. “Absolutely not. No clothes allowed in the pool. I’d just have to take them off to fuck you, so what sense would that make?”

He makes the statement so nonchalantly; I just shrug and say, “Good point. I’m ready when you are.” In a few moments, we are in the parking garage, and he is leading me toward the Range Rover. I cover my mouth dramatically, saying, “Oh, wow! Lucian Quinn is going to drive today. Is Sam busy?”

He backs me up against the car, running a hand down between my legs to cup me through the material of my pants. “Maybe Sam doesn’t want to see me touching your sweet pussy today.”

I moan, shamelessly riding his hand. “Good point,” I croak out, making him laugh. I want to object when he releases me but manage to swallow my protest; it’s enough right now just to be with him again. For the first time in eight days, my world is bright, and it’s all because of the man sitting beside me. When he reaches over to take my hand before setting them both on his thigh, I sigh in contentment.

Twenty minutes later, we are pulling through an impressive set of stone pillars, down a well-manicured driveway, and pulling to a stop in front of an equally impressive home. The bottom is made of stone and the top a shingle-type siding; it seems to sprawl out in every direction. Large picture windows gleam in the sunshine, and the circular drive in the front is lined on both sides with flowers. Even though the house must be worth a small fortune, I am surprised at how unassuming it seems.