to his face and outlined his firm mouth with her index finger, the rasp of his stubble catching against her skin like silk on tiny thorns. Even the scratchy sound of it was spine-tinglingly sexy. He held himself as still as a marble statue but she could still sense the war going on in his body as if every drop of his blood was thundering through his veins like rocket fuel. His nostrils flared like a stallion taking in the scent of a potential mate, his eyes still glittering with resolve, but there was something else lurking in the dark blue density of his gaze.
The same something she could feel thrumming deep in her core like an echo: desire.
But Audrey wasn’t going to betray herself by kissing him. He had rejected her twice already. She wasn’t signing up for a third. And if the gossip surrounding Lucien and Viviana was true, she was not the type of woman to kiss another woman’s lover. She didn’t want him to think she was so desperate for his attention she couldn’t control herself. With or without champagne. She lowered her hand from his face and gave him an on-off smile. ‘Lucky for you, I don’t respond to dares.’
If he was relieved or disappointed he didn’t show it. ‘We’re wasting valuable time.’ He turned and strode back to the cottage and took out his phone. ‘Call your mother while I call my father. They might have switched their phones back on.’
Audrey let out a sigh and followed him into the cottage. She’d tried calling her mother’s phone fifty-three times already. Even under normal circumstances, her mother would only pick up if she wanted to talk to Audrey and even then the conversation would be Sibella-centred and not anything that could be loosely called a mutual exchange. She couldn’t remember the time she had last talked to her mother. Really talked. Maybe when she was four years old? Her mother wasn’t the type to listen to others. Sibella was used to people fawning over her and waiting with bated breath for her to talk to them about her acting career and colourful love life.
Audrey should be so lucky to have a love life...even a black and white one would do.
* * *
Lucien left a curt message on his father’s answering service—one of many he’d left in the last twenty-four hours—and put away his phone. He had to get back on the road and away from the temptation of Audrey Merrington. Being anywhere near her was like being on a forty-day fast and suddenly coming across a sumptuous feast. He had damn near kissed her down by her wrecked car. Everything that was male in him ached to haul her into his arms and plunder her soft mouth with his. How easy would it have been to crush his mouth to hers? How easy would it have been to draw those sweet and sexy curves of hers even closer?
Too easy.
Scarily easy.
So easy he had to get a grip because he shouldn’t be having such X-rated thoughts around Audrey. He shouldn’t be looking at her mouth or her curves or any beautiful part of her. He shouldn’t be thinking about making love to her just because she threw herself into his arms over that wretched spider. When she had launched herself at him like that, a rush of desire charged through him like high-voltage electricity. Just as it had at their parents’ last wedding. Her curves-in-all-the-right-places body had thrown his senses into a tailspin like a hormone-driven teenager. He could still smell her sweet pea and spring lilac perfume on the front of his shirt where she’d pressed herself against him. He could still feel the softness of her breasts and the tempting cradle of her pelvis.
He could still feel the rapacious need marching through his body. Damn it.
He would have to stop wanting her. He would have to send his resolve to boot camp so it could withstand more of her cheeky ‘Were you thinking about kissing me?’ comments. He wasn’t just thinking about kissing her. He was dreaming of it, fantasising about it, longing for it. But he had a feeling one kiss of her delectable mouth would be like trying to eat only one French fry. Not possible.
But he could hardly leave her here at the cottage without a car. He would have to take her with him. What else could he do? When he’d first seen her at the cottage he’d decided the best plan was for them to drive in two cars so they could tag-team it until they tracked down their respective parents. He hadn’t planned a cosy little one-on-one road trip with her. That would be asking for the sort of trouble he could do without.
Audrey came back into the sitting room from the kitchen and put her phone on the coffee table in front of the sofa with a defeated-sounding sigh. ‘No answer. Maybe they’re on a flight somewhere.’
He dragged a hand down his face so hard he wondered if his eyebrows and eyelashes would slough off. Could this nightmare get any worse? ‘This seemed the most obvious place they’d come to. They used to sneak down here together a lot during their first marriage. My father raved about it—how quaint and quiet it was.’
She perched on the arm of the sofa, a small frown settling between her brows, the fingers of her right hand plucking at the fabric of her dress as if it was helping her to mull over something. ‘I know, that’s why I came here first. But maybe they wanted us to come here.’
‘You mean, like giving us a false lead or something?’
She gave him an unreadable look and stopped fiddling with her dress and crossed her arms over her middle. ‘Or something.’
‘What ‘‘or something’’?’ A faint prickle crawled over his scalp. ‘You mean, they wanted us both to come here? But why?’
She gave a lip shrug. ‘My mother finds it amusing that you and I hate each other so much.’
Lucien frowned. ‘I don’t hate you.’
She lifted her neat brows like twin question marks. ‘Don’t you?’
‘No.’ He hated the way she made him feel. Hated the way his body had a wicked mind of its own when she was around. Hated how he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her and touching her and seeing if her body was as delectable as it looked under the conservative clothes she always seemed to wear.
But he wasn’t a man driven by his hormones. That was his father’s way of doing things. Lucien had will power and discipline and he was determined to use them. He would not be reduced to base animal desires just because a pretty, curvy woman got under his skin.
And Audrey Merrington was so far under his skin he could feel his organs shifting inside to make room.
‘Good to know, since we’re going to be related again,’ she said with a deadpan expression.
‘Not if I can help it.’ Lucien was not going to rest until he’d prevented this third disastrous marriage. His father had almost drunk himself into oblivion the last time. There was no way he was going to stand by and watch that happen again. He was sick of picking up the pieces. Sick of trying to put his father back together again like a puzzle with most of the bits damaged or missing.
He picked up his keys. ‘Come on. We’d best get on the road before nightfall. I’ll organise someone to collect your car when we get back to London.’
She stood up from the arm of the sofa so quickly her feet thudded against the floor like punctuation marks. ‘But I don’t want to go with—’
‘Will you damn well just do what you’re told?’ Lucien was having trouble controlling his panic at how much time they were wasting. His father could be halfway through his honeymoon at this rate. Not to mention his bank balance. ‘You don’t have a car, so therefore you come with me. Understood?’
She
