Sacrifice (The Venus Chronicles #1)

Chapter 14

Fourteen

Eve stepped from the limousine and was instantly blinded by a barrage of camera flashes. Behind the red-carpet barriers, paparazzi called Lucien’s name, vying for the shot that would make the front page.

Lucien offered Eve his arm, and she took it gratefully. Sky-high heels and a slinky dress weren’t her natural camouflage. Tonight’s outfit waved the ‘look at me’ flag as she’d never done before and the last thing she wanted to do was fall flat on her face in front of a pack of London journalists. She hadn't realized Lucien was so well known.

The Dorchester was beautiful. An enormous Christmas tree drew them in through its lavishly decorated reception, sparkling with tiny lights, and on to the golden-doored lifts that would deliver them to the ballroom.

“You look fabulous,” Lucien said once they were alone in the elevator. The Latin timbre of his voice brought goosebumps to her skin.

There was no denying, she felt fabulous too.

Was it the dress? Was it all the attention she’d lavished on her appearance for once? Maybe, but it felt like more than that. Lucien had been delighted to hear about her degree thesis. She knew she wasn’t just arm-candy. Tonight, it was her specialist knowledge that made her important. She was being appreciated at last, and it felt great. More than great. And it didn’t hurt that this man had an effect on her body she’d couldn’t explain. Her skin tingled from head to toe just being near him.

She caught herself in the lift’s mirrored wall. OK, the dress was pretty special too. She broke out in a spontaneous grin.

“Thank you,” she said and smoothed the dark silk with her hand. “The dress is gorgeous. I feel incredible in it.”

Lucien reached out to run his palm lightly over the fabric of her hip. “You do feel incredible, yes.”

Electricity crackled, and his eyes widened a little. “I have something else for you,” he said.

Lucien took a small black case from his inner jacket pocket and opened it to reveal a necklace of brilliant cut diamonds and sapphires that sparkled with a light that articulated wealth and history.

“Now I don’t want you to get too excited,” he smiled impishly at her, “But this necklace is nearly five-hundred years old. Elizabethan. Once worn by the Queen herself. May I?”

How could she refuse him? Eve lifted her hair, and he looped the chain gently around her neck. His fingers lingered on her collarbone and beneath them Eve’s skin blossomed with heat. She looked up, into the mirror, not to see the jewelry but to take in the man, almost to check this was real.

“It’s too much,” she said, feeling the heat spreading down her back.

Lucien didn’t seem to think so. He stepped back to admire her. “It completes you, I think.”

Eve’s heart pounded. There was something about being near him that made her feel so alive. He was intoxicating.

The chime of the elevator broke the spell. The doors opened and together they stepped out into a room full of the most beautiful people she had ever seen. Lucien placed his hand on the small of her back and leaned into whisper in her ear. “I may have an ulterior motive.”

Eve’s mouth dried; she’d hoped that he had.

“Petrovsky isn’t just a collector of Babylonian antiquities. Those gems around your neck are likely to give him wet dreams.”

Eve giggled. That wasn’t quite what she’d been thinking.

“Collectors can be obsessive. I know he wants that necklace. He needs to know who he’s dealing with. Make sure you show it off.” He planted a soft kiss just beneath her ear and it ran ripples through her.

Was he her boss? Should she feel bad about this?

No. He was an important sponsor of the museum for which she worked. A client then? No, she wasn’t senior enough for that. Who was Lucien Knight to her?

A goddam billionaire, baby, and a seriously sexy one at that.

It was hard not to laugh out loud.

Eve looked around and recognized more than one celebrity as they made their way through the melee. Actors and media personalities chatted together while somewhere out of sight, a string quartet played Vivaldi.

Lucien plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing server and gave one to her. “May your glass be ever full. May the roof over your head be always strong. And may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.” He grinned at her wickedly.

They clinked flutes and Eve took an enthusiastic pull from her glass. It sparkled on her tongue. The champagne was going to be much too easy to drink.

Eve might have felt like she was out on a limb, but Lucien knew plenty of people in the crowd. He worked the room. A surprising number of the men greeted him like a long- lost brother, embracing him with a hearty back slap, while women seemed to melt when he took their hand. Eve felt their admiration and was starting to think that the entire room was under some kind of spell when the exception to the rule made their presence felt.

A grey-haired man in his fifties held a small court of his own in the center of the room. Flanked by two women in tight bodycon dresses, he was speaking with enthusiastic hand gestures to a man who looked like he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

The women clung to an elbow apiece, their botoxed faces beautifully blank, and their bodies all but wrapped around him. In a room full of polite wealth, it felt incongruous. Lucien reached down to take Eve’s hand.

Unspoken, she felt him telling her that this was the man they’d come to meet. Taking her hand was such an intimate thing to do, given how little they knew each other, but reading this situation, seeing how the Russian wore his women like a cape, she knew physical contact with Lucien was required if this was going to be convincing.

Petrovsky’s gaze flickered over them at the very last moment of their approach. It was a tactic to make them feel unimportant. Lucien knew that and, somehow, so did she.

“My old friend, Konstantin Petrovsky,” Lucien called out and, completely ignoring the man Petrovsky had been talking to, swept directly through their personal space to kiss him roughly on either cheek.

The Russian oligarch looked pleased by this overt display of affection and tucked his chin back deeply into his jowls. “Lucien.” He tapped the hand of the woman to his left. “Polina, champagne for my guests.”

He’d claimed them as his possessions to take the power. Lucien smiled broadly. It was all part of a game.

Polina detached herself and plucked a bottle of Krug from an ice bucket at their side. She shimmied over to fill their glasses, leaning to give Lucien the full effect of her deep cleavage. Lucien gave her the briefest nod, and she turned to Eve, smile waning.

Up close, her beauty was flawed. From her unfeasibly thick eyelashes to the perfect plumpness of her lips, she wore her make-up so thick it was like a mask. The green tinge of an old bruise peeped through the thinner layers around her eye. She noticed Eve’s eyes running over it and turned away.

So, Petrovsky liked to treat his women rough. Eve turned her attention back to him.

“Your trip to London has been a success, I trust,” Lucien said.

“ Da . Of course. My businesses prosper.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Perhaps I might have caught you at a lucky time to talk about some business of our own.”

“Luck is for the weak.” Petrovsky raised a challenging eyebrow, and Lucien glared back, his expression hardening.

“Unless you have the luck of the devil,” Lucien growled, tension growing between them.

Petrovsky nodded slowly, then roared with laughter. He patted Lucien on his shoulder and Eve felt for a moment like there was a danger of Lucien tearing it off. Instead, he winked at the champagne-pouring woman and tossed back his drink.

“I’ll drink to that,” Petrovsky added quickly, taking the bottle and refilling both their glasses himself. “Come, let’s take our seats.”

The crowd thinned as the glitterati made their way to the ballroom. Men in tuxedos and women in flowing gowns swept elegantly away through double doors.

Lucien held his arm out in a crook for Eve to take.

“Hungry?” he asked. Suddenly the confrontation with Petrovsky was over. This was to be a game of rounds, it seemed.

Beyond the doors, the ballroom sparkled. Cut crystal chandeliers hung over tables decorated with tall reaching lilies and trailing orchids, ice buckets were filled with wine and champagne and red wine breathed in decanters.

Lucien ran his eyes over the seating plan and guided them to their seats. Name cards positioned Petrovsky with his women on either side beside Lucien and then Eve. Three more unknowns made up their table of eight, alternating men and women in the round.

Eve took her seat, surprised to find a gold-ribboned gift bag waiting for her. More presents. She looked to Lucien in surprise and he waved a hand to guide her eyes on a circuit of the table. Every female guest had received one. Every man: a golden envelope. Lucien immediately took a cheque from his inner jacket pocket and tucked it inside.

It became clear now how this worked. A charity fundraiser with a ticket price way beyond the cost. The ladies were ornaments, beautiful possessions to be ostentatiously spoiled. It was the men who had the money and the expectation to donate was quite blatant and public. Lucien had done his part before the eyes of their table guests were on him. It seemed he had nothing to prove.

An older couple were the first to join them, taking their seats directly opposite, then a man on his own, early forties and good looking. He turned out to be charming company but quailed under Lucien’s protective glare when he seemed to be getting a little too familiar. Eve was both annoyed and delighted by this proprietorial display. If it had been anyone else laying claim on her like that, she’d have given them what for, but as it was Lucien Knight, found that instead she was utterly delighted.

The dinner was delicious. Roasted beet salad with arugula and goat cheese, followed by pan-seared salmon with lemon butter sauce and, best of all, dark chocolate fondant with raspberry coulis and vanilla ice cream. Champagne flowed throughout and Eve was sure she really had got the best end of the deal. Doing her part had meant little more than making sure the necklace was in full view of Petrovsky.

Lucien radiated confidence, seeming to know just the right thing to say to everyone at the table and with every glance or brush of his hand against her thigh as he spoke to the other guests, she wanted to be alone with him more and more.

“Ah, Lucien, what a pleasure to have you at my table,” Petrovsky said, eyeing him thoughtfully. “I have some interesting stories to tell you about my recent acquisitions.”

Lucien nodded and took a sip from his wine.

“I have come into some interesting new artefacts,” Petrovsky said between mouthfuls of food. “Babikov found a tomb in Kazakhstan! Says it was full of talismans of an ancient king. Thinks it’s cursed.” He slapped the table, sending food in all directions. “That fool is a sucker for a local legend.”

Lucien raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? How did he come by that?”

“He was surveying for oil deposits.” Petrovsky stuffed another forkful into his mouth. “I told him I take them off his hands for a small fee.”

Lucien smiled, but Eve could feel the effort behind it. “That is interesting. Send me the catalogue. You never know. There might be a piece or two that takes my fancy.” He smiled simply at Petrovsky, who narrowed his eyes.

“I think you confuse me with someone who needs your money, Dr Knight.” Petrovsky dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and threw it down onto the half-finished plate.

“Not at all, Konstantine, but aren’t we already talking about a purchase?” said Lucien

“You mean the sun stone?” Petrovsky huffed out a laugh and pulled down the corners of his mouth in a sneer. “It’s no longer for sale.” He pushed his plate away in an act of dismissal.

The hairs stood up on the back of Eve’s neck. Lucien adjusted his posture to sit a little taller.

“We are men of means, are we not? Sometimes we can lay our hands on things of great value to another.” He leaned back in his seat, allowing Petrovsky’s line of sight to include the necklace around Eve’s neck. “ Quid pro quo .”

Petrovsky’s gaze slid from the necklace into Eve’s cleavage, and he licked his flabby lips. “There will be other stones,” he said.

“That particular sunstone greatly interests me right now. It’s the centerpiece of the exhibition I’m putting together. I’ve already offered you well above market value.”

Petrovsky’s nostrils flared. “There are other ways to pay.” His eyes ran over Eve’s body and she realized with horror that he meant her.

Lucien huffed and looked down to examine his own hands, now rubbing slowly together, palm to palm. “You go too far.”

Petrovsky suddenly slammed his hand down onto the table and made everyone's plates rattle. “What does money mean to me?”

“Oh, Konstantin.” Lucien pushed his own plate away. “You should know better than to disappoint me.”

Petrovsky's eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat, Lucien?”

Eve’s skin prickled with the rising tension. Lucien leaned in toward Petrovsky and spoke in a low voice.

“Your filthy hands will never touch her,” he hissed, and the woman sat between them slunk backward in her seat. Lucien clasped Petrovsky’s forearm and his expression changed. A glimmer of uncertainty crept into the Russian’s eyes.

He shrugged, maintaining his bravado. “There is nothing I can do. The buyer has very powerful friends.” He swallowed hard. “More friends than you, I think.”

Lucien glared at him. “I don’t need friends,” he said in a hiss.

Petrovsky smiled coldly, but Eve couldn’t help feeling that each man took a different meaning from those words.

Lucien released him and got to his feet. He buttoned his jacket and held his hand out to Eve. “We have an early start,” he said. The words were calm and his demeanor as polite as it had been all evening, but Petrovsky was rattled, sweat sparkling on his brow.

Eve stood and slid her hand into Lucien’s. Her palm buzzed with energy at his touch.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” he said to the table at large, “Konstantin, another time.” He nodded curtly, then led Eve away, out of the ballroom and into the lift.

She tried not to trail behind. He was fast on his feet and the combination of champagne and high heels slowed her down. Her heart pounded in her chest. Unless she was very much mistaken, Lucien had just staked a claim on her, had shown Petrovsky that she was under his protection. A thrill of pleasure ran through her veins. His hand in hers, the energy radiating from him was palpable. She stole a glance at him. Never before had she met a man with such an alluring combination of qualities.

Supremely knowledgeable in his field, he was so passionate about it, it made her heart ache. Lucien valued her knowledge and appreciated the hard work that had gone into her degree. As a worker in the gift shop under Gilbert’s derisory eye for the last couple of years, this was like balm to a burn. To be more than an expendable temp, a pretty face to brighten up the place, and a lesser human for no other reason than she could not find the way to break through, was so welcome, so needed. It was a lifeline. He’d given her a lifeline.

She steadied her breathing and willed her heart rate to settle. Was she the only person he had this effect on?

No. He’d cast a spell over everyone they’d met. Handsome and charming, there hadn’t been a single person in the room not pleased to see him, male or female.

Lucien Knight was something special. Out of the ordinary. She stared at him and he stared back. A flicker of something danced in his eyes. The anger of a few moments before melted away as the gazed at each other. Eve bit at her lip and Lucien cracked a smile. Her insides clenched and heat spread from somewhere deep inside. Lucien Knight was sexy as hell and leaving with her.

She let out a giggle.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Eve was pleased to discover that the paparazzi had called it a night, especially as she was now teetering on her heels considerably more than when they’d arrived. Philip waited in the limo just outside and the soft leather of the back seat had never been more welcome. Lucien slid in beside her and the limo pulled away.

“Home via Ms Areli’s please, Philip.”

“Absolutely, Sir,” said Philip. He slid the privacy panel closed and sealed them in their bubble of luxury.

Eve grinned unashamedly and turned to face Lucien. “You,” she said with a single pointing finger, “are a very popular man.”

Lucien squinted at her.

“Why so glum?” she asked in what she knew was a silly voice. Being with Lucien had been wonderful enough. What did it matter if their company had not come up to par? “Such a beautiful place.” She waved her hand exuberantly. “So many beautiful people. So much beautiful champagne.”

Lucien’s face cracked. “I think you may have had a little too much of that.”

“Never.”

There was a chance.

He looked down at her mouth and sighed. “There was only one beautiful person I saw.”

Her heart raced at that, but the snark came easily. “Polina, yeah. I quite fancied her, too.”

“Will you stop?” He looped an arm around Eve’s waist and leaned in, his proximity sudden and intoxicating. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Eve traced the muscular tone of his arm through the fine fabric of his suit, and Lucien flicked his gaze between her eyes and lips, a crinkle forming between his eyebrows. His breathing deepened.

Threads of gold danced in Lucien’s eyes, and Eve’s imagination ran wild. She thought, just for a moment, that she could see into his soul: that he was trapped in his life and lonely, that he needed her.

She pressed her lips to his. Not tentatively nor shyly, but with a certainty that came from, she knew not where. Lucien responded in kind and opened his mouth to accept her tongue.

He ran a hand behind her head to hold her so he could kiss her back, his mouth soft but searching for the perfect way to caress her lips.

Eve swooned, her head spun by the blood that pumped wildly through her body and every nerve zinged to life. Lucien pulled back just far enough to speak.

“Fuck, I want you,” he breathed.

The fire of desire raged inside her. “You have me,” Eve replied. This man had taken her over, overwhelmed her senses, and every sensation was delicious.

His hand moved to the zip on the back of her dress to slide it down. Without it, her strapless bodice was easy to push aside. His hand felt like electric fire on her skin and she willed him to take her breast in his grasp, to knead her erect nipple. When he took it in his mouth, the sensation was exquisite. Hot and wet, his agile tongue sent shocks of longing straight to her crotch.

A moan escaped Eve’s lips.

“I want to see you.” He lifted her just enough from the seat to slide the dress out from beneath. Strong and sure, he reduced her to naked save for the smallest of panties in less than a minute. Her body ached for him to touch her again, and when his fingertips brushed against her skin, fire rippled through her. He scooped her from the seat and pulled her into his lap.

One knee either side, suddenly she felt the power of giving him access to her body, her breasts now at the perfect height for his mouth to find them. First his tongue, then his teeth. She moaned with pleasure, and he brought his head up to kiss her on the mouth.

Goosebumps ran over her.

Was this really happening?

The speed at which they’d got to this point made her head spin and yet she knew she’d been waiting for it. Wanting it.

Their tongues slid over and around each other. Her hands in his hair, his gliding down her back to her hips. He grasped at her flesh and pulled her down into him. Eve thrilled at the sensation of his cock beneath her, now achingly hard and desperate to escape his clothing.

So near and yet so far. Her body pulsed with need. Heat building in the small of her back, she ground against him.

Lucien moaned. “God, I want to be inside you.”

Eve spread her knees a little wider, opening herself up to him and then it was too much for Lucien to resist. He pushed her away to release his cock from the clothes that bound it and brought her back.

The tiny panties that had seemed so appropriate beneath the Dior didn’t stand a chance. He tore them away and brushed her clit with those electric fingertips of his. Eve bucked against him. She needed Lucien inside her like she’d never needed anyone.

And he knew it. He pulled her into him and she ground down, moving her hips in tiny circles, finding the tip of him and then pushing back.

Lucien moaned with animal desire. But now that she’d got them this far, he took over. He grasped her hips and thrust inside. Moving slowly at first, he found his way as she expanded to accept him.

Slowly, he slid his full length inside her, broad and hard, it brought the friction she so desperately wanted. Again and again, his hands on her hips, his tongue in her mouth, his cock gliding in and out, the exquisite sensation of it stroking her closer and closer to orgasm. And then she was tipping into it, body shuddering with the waves of pleasure that ran between them.

Lucien gasped. “Fuck me, you feel amazing.”

Eve could not agree more.