Wicked Games [Mature 18 +] **COMPLETE**

Chapter Eighteen

Lucien rarely left me out of his sight, he even slept in the room with me, not in the same bed but in the chair across from it. He liked to drink a glass of wine before bed and smoke a cigarette while reading. Every time I looked at him half dozing with the book in his hand it made me think of all those warnings about smoking in bed. Though he loved to wear black he looked best in blue, any shade; dark or light didn't matter the color always made his eyes hypnotic and endlessly deep. He wore dark blue silk pajama pants and a similar robe. His hair was disheveled and though part of me still hated him, I couldn't help but admire his beauty.

"Having problems falling asleep, Ma petite?" he asked, laying his book in his lap before taking a swig of wine, it was a red as always. I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest. He'd given me a nightgown, perfectly fitted and floor length with a slit that went all the way up to my hip.

"Might have something to do with knowing you're watching me." I leaned back against the headboard.

"Witty as that is, I somehow doubt that's the case." He took a drag from his cigarette. "I am the tortured one, you are supposed to be the one sleeping soundly." He gestured with the cherry and smirked. "Only one of us can be miserable."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Oui, perilously so I'm afraid." He drank another mouthful of wine. "What happened?"

"Do you really not remember? I told you last week."

He sighed. "I've been busy being tortured, signing away my company and trying to deal with homicidal Italians." With a deep drag from his cigarette he set the glass on the table. He spoke more in French, another habit I noticed. It meant he was tipsy.

"I have no clue what you said after killer Italians."

He smirked, "I said how very sorry I am not to be able to remember your every word. But tell me again."

"I saw you chop up that guy you shot in the garden. And because I'm a sane, normal person it freaked me out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you said you could disappear me. Lucien, you might not realize it because you grew up in this shit but it's fucking scary. Oh, then you kidnapped me."

"For your safety."

"Now here I am in France, locked away in your chateau like belle from beauty and the beast." I started laughing. "Only in reverse because I thought I found the handsome prince and it turned out he was really a monster."

"So I'm a monster?" he sighed. "That's regrettable and understandable." He moved the book from his lap and set it on the small table beside the chair and placed the cigarette in the ashtray.

"Do you know what Stockholm's syndrome is?"

"Yes."

"Is that your end game here? Keep me in your castle in the middle of fucking nowhere until the switch flips and I drop to my knees and suck your dick in appreciation for your existence." I laughed bitterly and shook my head.

"No." He stood and walked over to the bed and laid down beside me. I forgot how warm he was, that heat was intoxicating. "I want to make it right, but I don't know how. Help me, ma petite, give me something. Watching Maxime and Willa this last week reminds me of what we lost."

"You mean the arguing? Or the fucking?" I quipped, and instantly yawned. There wasn't any denying that there was chemistry between us, but chemistry wasn't everything.