Lucien leaned back against the plush leather seat of his car, a small smile playing on his lips as he remembered the warmth of May in his arms, the way she'd looked up at him with that playful gleam in her eyes. She was nothing like anyone he'd ever met—grounded, resilient, a spark that kept him intrigued. He didn't even mind that she'd teased him about "keeping her up too late," knowing she had work the next day. Her honesty and simplicity were refreshing.
When they'd arrived at her apartment, he'd felt an unfamiliar ache as she turned to go inside, a pang of reluctance he hadn't expected. He had to resist every urge to tell her to stay in his world a little longer, to whisk her off somewhere she'd never been before. Instead, he'd settled for pulling her close, wrapping her in his jacket, and pressing one last deep kiss to her lips, savoring her taste and warmth. She'd looked surprised but had given him a soft smile, her cheeks flushed as she stepped inside. He hadn't left until he saw the door close behind her, knowing his men would be nearby to watch over her.
Lucien poured himself a glass of whiskey, feeling the smooth burn of it as he swirled the memories of the night around in his mind. He was captivated by her, more than he'd ever thought possible. May was becoming a part of him—no, she already was. And he intended to show her exactly what that meant, one carefully planned step at a time.
He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to his assistant, requesting roses and the same vintage wine they'd shared on the yacht. It would be at her doorstep in the morning, a small reminder of their night. He wanted her to feel the care and attention he was willing to give her, even in the smallest gestures.
Satisfied, he typed out one last message before setting his phone down: Buona notte, mia cara. He knew she'd have to look it up—Goodnight, my dear. He smirked, imagining her reaction, how her curiosity might lead her to text him back.
As he finished his drink, Lucien's smile softened, but his gaze sharpened with determination. There was no denying it—he'd do whatever it took to protect May, even if that meant taking certain precautions. His world was a dangerous one, and the closer she got to him, the more vulnerable she became. He'd made enemies over the years, but May would be safe. She was under his protection now, whether she realized it or not.
With that thought, he felt a surge of possessiveness. He would be careful with her, gentle with her heart, because he knew she'd be worth the wait. And while he couldn't rush her into his world, he could certainly prepare her for it. This was just the beginning; he'd make sure of that.
