Chapter 10 Lucian
LUCIAN
Tessa was absolutely fantastic during the meeting in Boston, and it wasn't just the way that blue dress hugged her curves or the glimmer of pride in her expression as she fielded difficult questions.
I found her intelligence sensational, her ability to navigate the challenging arguments the potential client made so authoritative that even I was ready to sign on the dotted line.
The meeting that could've taken over four hours to achieve resolution and secure signatures ended in just under three hours with our new clients eating out of our hands.
Though I had been distracted by how gorgeous she was standing at the head of the table presenting her report, nothing escaped my notice. My assessment of her capabilities had been spot-on and Tessa Wynn was going to make Cross Capital a lot of money.
The meeting over, she relaxed and began tucking her portfolios away and gathering up her things while I said my thanks and goodbyes to each member of the client's team.
One by one, they filtered out until I turned to see Tessa standing alone with her things held in her arms, ready to go.
"You were incredible," I said once we were alone.
"Really?" The uncertainty in her voice surprised me. How could she not know how brilliant she was?
It had to be a hefty case of imposter syndrome, or maybe I hadn't done my job as her mentor adequately enough.
"Really. They were ready to sign before you finished the first slide." I opened the door for her and she walked out ahead of me.
The only thing I regretted about this entire trip was that I hadn't invited anyone else to see her in action.
They all deserved to see how spectacular she was at work.
Her smile was radiant, transforming her entire face. "I was terrified I'd embarrass you."
"Never. You were perfect."
Something shifted in her expression, a softness that made my pulse quicken.
When her shoulder brushed against my chest as we passed into the elevator, the thought of kissing her right there passed through my mind. I controlled myself, but it was challenging.
The elevator doors slid shut and I turned to her. "Dinner?" I asked.
"I'd love that," she said, then promptly changed the topic back to the meeting to discuss some numbers we'd have to compile for the client. That conversation carried us all the way to my hired limo and across town.
The restaurant I chose was tucked away in the North End, all exposed brick and candlelight, giving it an high-end industrial feel. Intimate without being obvious about it.
Neither of us was dressed for a fancy dinner, but the blue dress she wore—which she chose a lot lately—was stunning on her.
She ordered seafood risotto and savored every bite, her eyes closing with pleasure at particularly good forkfuls.
I found myself watching her mouth, the way she unconsciously licked her lips, and had to force my attention back to conversation.
"The clients seemed genuinely excited," she said between bites.
"They were. You convinced them." I lifted an eyebrow, barely touching my own dinner. I was too distracted by how impressed I found myself.
I saw in her things I didn't see in any other analyst working for the company. Tessa had drive and ambition that many others lacked. I felt like I was looking at a younger version of me.
"We convinced them," she said softly, tipping her wine glass up to her lips.
I reached across the table and touched her hand. "Don't diminish what you accomplished today. That success was yours."
Her fingers intertwined with mine, sending heat up my arm. But there was something deeper beneath the physical attraction—a fierce pride in her achievement that felt almost possessive.
It wasn't because I had recognized that and set it free. It was because something inside me claimed ownership over her now. I knew it was dangerous and risky to feel this way, but that first night in my arms, I'd known it would happen.
Lucian Cross gets what he wants. That'd always been my motto.
But what I wanted was shifting now, morphing into a strange abstract desire that felt foreign to me.
I wanted her—yes. But I wanted her to be happy too.
It reminded me of the gift I purchased for her, a thank you for how hard she'd been working.
"I have something for you," I said, withdrawing a small, wrapped box from my jacket pocket.
"Lucian, you don't need to—"
"Consider it a late Valentine's Day gift," I told her, which brought an instant flush of heat to her cheeks.
It was completely inappropriate, and following Viktoria's warning about the kids, I knew I shouldn't.
Which was why I hid it from everyone and opted to give it to Tessa here in Boston instead of back home in Chicago.
She unwrapped it carefully, revealing a delicate gold bracelet set with small diamonds. Her breath caught. "It's so beautiful, Luci, but I can't accept this." I smiled at the way she used a pet name, something Viktoria had never done. Something I'd never have allowed her to do.
But when Tessa said it, it was so endearing, I couldn’t stop her. I wanted to hear it again.
"Why not?"
"It's too expensive." She stared at the necklace and her shoulders sagged.
It discouraged me for a moment because I thought it was appropriate, but I realized perhaps I'd been too forward.
I was letting my feelings get out of control. Still, she was worth it. She deserved good things.
"Nothing is too expensive for you," I told her, but I was willing to take it back if she protested strongly.
She looked up at me, searching my face. For a moment I thought she might argue, but then she lifted her wrist toward me and smiled.
I fastened the bracelet around her wrist, my fingers lingering on her pulse point. I had to resist the urge to bring her hand to my lips and kiss it.
"Thank you," she whispered. I saw the tears in her eyes, making me wonder what that was about, but I didn’t press. I simply nodded and continued my dinner. But I stewed in my head.
Viktoria had been very insistent that my children would suffer over this. Tessa and I had a moment a few weeks ago, too, where I broke down and opened up about that situation to her.
She said we could be friends, but I knew in my heart I was already falling hard, and I shouldn’t be.
That first kiss, the way we danced around our attraction to each other, it was a temptation and I failed the test.
Now I was sliding down the slippery slope to hell—or that's how my ex-wife would see it. I couldn’t stop it, though, and I didn't want to.
After finishing dessert, I paid for dinner and escorted Tessa back to the hotel while keeping the conversation strictly on what we'd accomplish when we returned to the home office.
But in my hotel room, where she'd been sharing my bed for two nights now, I pulled her against myself, safe from the prying eyes of the outside world, and kissed her roughly.
She yielded to me, hands splaying on my chest, but pulled away at a natural pause.
There was a flash of hesitancy on her face so I didn’t lean back in, but I took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist where the bracelet rested.
"Not in the mood tonight?" I asked her, and she shrugged one shoulder.
"My period started." She sighed. "I feel sort of crampy."
While disappointment was my first reaction, it was immediately overshadowed by a desire to comfort her.
I clasped both hands around her face and kissed her forehead. "Do you need anything? I can get you some pain meds or see if they have some heating pads or something."
I had no clue what to do, only that this was the sort of thing I'd never even thought of when I was married to Viktoria.
And Elena was so private, I never knew she started her period until I heard she was being treated for bad cramps at one point. Guilt riddled me, and I felt even more strongly that I should be there for Tessa.
"No, that's so sweet." She pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. "Our plane leaves soon, though, so we should pack up."
It physically pained me to let her walk away, but she was right. We zipped around our hotel room, shoving our things in our suitcases, and I carried hers for her when we walked to the checkout desk.
We made it across town in good time and shared a drink in the lounge at the airport before we boarded.
The flight was quiet, filled with business travelers. Tessa had her laptop open, working on follow-up materials.
I was reviewing emails when movement from her screen caught my peripheral vision.
She'd opened a new browser tab, and the header made my blood freeze. Chicago Fertility Clinic - IVF Services and Consultation.
She was scrolling through treatment options, success rates, and financial information. The clinical language couldn't hide what she was researching—having a baby on her own.
Rage flooded through me, though I was aware how irrational my immediate reaction was.
She was planning a life without me.
Without any man.
But I didn't understand why.
If she wanted to have a baby, why hadn’t she mentioned that to me?
It must've been why she was so adamant that I use protection every time we had sex, but it didn't make sense. What made sense and what would have been logical was her telling me what she wanted and letting me provide that for her.
Unless she didn’t want it from me. Maybe the thought of being that connected to me for almost twenty years of life was too much for her.
My hands clenched around my phone. The thought of her carrying another man's child—even an anonymous donor's—made something primitive roar in protest.
But alongside the anger was a deeper pain.
She was preparing for a future where our arrangement ended. One where I'd be left behind and alone again. And much worse, she didn’t see this "friendship" as being safe for her to admit it to me.
She glanced up and caught me looking. Color drained from her face as she realized what I'd seen. The laptop snapped shut.
"It's not what you think," she said quickly.
But it was exactly what I thought. She was making plans that didn't include me.
"You don't owe me explanations," I managed, turning back to my phone. I barely controlled my tone, and maybe she knew simply because of the expression on my face, but I was hurt.
"Lucian—"
"It's fine, Tessa. You should explore all your options." I plastered a fake plastic smile on my face and tried like hell to reassure her.
If I were any friend at all, I would support her, not be petty and selfish.
No, I didn’t want her doing that, but we had agreed to no-strings, and I had no right to discourage her.
She deserved someone who could give her everything—marriage, children, a future without my baggage. Someone who hadn't already failed at fatherhood once.
But knowing she deserved better didn't make it hurt less to see her planning for it.
And it sure as hell didn't explain why the thought of her having someone else's baby made me want to punch the airplane window.
She sighed softly and turned to look out the window. Maybe she realized there was no point in hashing things out on this plane, or maybe she feared someone would overhear us talking and somehow, it would get out that we weren't just here on business.
Either way, I was losing my mind over a woman barely older than my own children. A woman smart enough to know she could do better than a damaged man closing in on fifty.
The worst part was, she was absolutely right to plan for a life without me.
I just wished it didn't feel like she was ripping my heart out in the process.