I stood before him now, hand fiddling with the emerald pendant resting against my skin. My pulse thumped almost loudly under it. The man before me was making my skin burn without even knowing it.
He offered his arm, just formal, his face didn't change, it remained fixed on everything else but me. I took his arm, looping mine around it. Formal, like we were strangers at a business dinner.
We walked toward the door. He didn’t look at me again.
But I felt his arm tense every time my dress brushed his leg.
The fresh night breeze cascaded on our faces, perfect for the fire that I needed to be quenched inside of me.
Then he pulled the door of the Maybach open, and I slid in. He slid in after me. And when the driver ignited the engine, I caught Lucien’s reflection in the window, eyes slidin
