Desperate Vows

Chapter 1

Smoke and alcohol mixed,filling the air and burning my nose. As the daughter of a highly respected, upstanding pillar of society, this wasn’t my usual hangout. The daughter of Franklin Benoit wouldn’t dare darken a place with the reputation this one had.

“Claire Benoit?” a familiar voice startled me. Damn.

I slowly turned to face Regina Tilton. “Hi.”

We’d known each other since we were toddlers. Only her father didn’t seem to be the controlling type, or at least not as controlling as mine. She got away with near-murder, and I was on the verge of being murdered. Maybe not in body, but in soul. Not that I had much of one left. I slammed and locked the door on that memory, forcing it to stay in the dark.

Her blonde hair dangled past her shoulders, swaying as her gaze drifted over me. “Of all the places I thought we’d run into each other, I can confidently say this wasn’t it.”

Forcing my face to mask the fear, I smiled. “That art class I’m in. I’m supposed to study architecture this week. He gave out a list of places, and by the time I landed on one, this was my only option. It’s part of my final grades this semester.”

Located in the West Loop district, Lykos was a restaurant and bar shrouded in rumors and owned by an infamous Greek family with a last name that means butcher. It didn’t escape me that the name of the restaurant means wolf. Predator killer. What did that say about Lucas and his family? I wouldn’t dwell on that, though.

Based on what I’d read, things go on at this club at night that people like me don’t associate with. Dark things. Criminal things. I’d be out of Chicago and away from my father, so I didn’t need to know what went on inside this place.

Even in the hours before it flipped its switch from restaurant to bar, it still felt heavy. There was a good chance my reason influenced that feeling. Despite the rumors of past violence, the West Loop area felt safer than it had in years. News reports claimed crime was steadily declining, with whispers of vigilantes patrolling the streets. But if anyone knew anything, they weren’t talking.

The interior of Lykos was beautiful, with dark wood accentuated with ornate carvings, tasteful decorations, and a couple of large chandeliers. Booths lined one wall, and tables that could be pushed together littered the dark wood floor.

Regina’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”

Oh yeah, she knew, without a doubt, I’d just told a big-fat-whopper of a lie. I did have an art class, but I still had to sell it. If it got back to my father that I was here…I shivered. I’d been careful the last six months since my mom died, avoiding his wrath, dotting my I’s, and crossing my T’s so that I didn’t have to hide the evidence of his disapproval when I left the house.

I pushed my lips to the limits, smiling as broadly as I could. “Seriously. You really think I’d be here if I wasn’t forced?”

What I couldn’t explain was that the force was coming from the threat of an arranged marriage. I called it a threat. I was turning twenty-one in three weeks, and my father had promised my hand to a man who’d been leering at me at every party I’d attended since I was twelve.

Regina’s arms crossed over her chest, her hip cocked to the side, along with her jaw. She harrumphed. “Then why didn’t you come earlier in the day?” My not-quite-a-friend had chosen a different path from mine. Well, because she had a choice.

“I couldn’t. I have classes.” That was a lie. I’d planned this visit. It was a Monday, busy but not like it would be during the weekend or later in the evening. I knew the man I came to see would likely have to divide his attention, and I wanted to increase the odds that his focus would remain on me.

There was another harrumph in response to my explanation. A lanky man a few inches taller than her sidled up next to her and draped his arm across her shoulders. “Who’s this little uptight?”

I wanted to balk at the descriptive word, but I was. My clothes screamed it, but it wasn’t like I had a choice.

“Claire Benoit. My uncle is her father’s business partner.”

Damn. Now, two people knew I was in a bar. If this got out…“ I really do need to look around. I’m sorry, but Daddy expects me to be home by nine.” I’d use father, but Daddy was a force of habit when I was out in public. Using the word father put a degree of separation between us and appearances, even the slightest, was important to him. P’s and Q’s, and I didn’t stray.

Regina’s skinny friend with the scruff leaned in. “Think she’d be interested in partying?”

The tension broke as Regina laughed. “She’s as Mary Jane as they get. You’ve gotta better chance getting the Pope to party.”

His laugh was the epitome of unappealing. What did Regina see in this loser? Or any of the losers she dated? We both come from money, lots of it, and she could have her pick of anyone in Chicago. It was beyond comprehension to me that she chose creep after creep.

“See ya around, Claire.”

Relief flooded me as my nerves tingled. I needed to keep my cool. I’d practiced what I was going to say, making sure I showed respect and delivered the ace that Lucas Kalantzis couldn’t possibly reject. In three weeks, when I turned twenty-one, I would gain access to my trust fund, and it was massive.

I did nothing but study this man since I learned about the trust fund and my father’s plans to force me to marry. Lucas was thirty when he’d taken over the business three years prior, after his father was killed. That put him over a decade older than me. His Aunt Helen was the only matriarch remaining, and from what I’d learned from my diligent research, she was still informed about her family’s business, but she wasn’t in it. When I’d searched for a picture of her, there’d been nothing.

The moment I spotted Lucas at the back of the restaurant, my breath caught. Even from where I stood, I could tell his suit was tailored and expensive. It fit and flattered him in all the right ways. The dark color suited him, but I couldn’t tell if it was black or blue. Not that it matters.

His cannon-sized arms were crossed over his broad chest, and he was locked in what looked like a deep conversation with a man who could look him in the eyes. The vision of two six-foot-three men who oozed danger should be enough to make me pirouette and take my butt home. Desperation kept me rooted. I was on a mission. There was no way I was marrying a man my father picked.

He must feel my stare or ogle if I was honest, but anyone as attractive as him should expect to be physically appreciated. His gaze locked on mine. A lone eyebrow arched up along with one corner of his lips like they were connected by a string.

Palming the other man’s bicep, he seemed to say a parting word and broke away. The other man didn’t even turn around as he walked deeper into the bowels of the place. I was frozen as Lucas stalked toward me, head lowered, midnight eyes never leaving mine.

Calling him an Adonis was an insult. He was beyond God-like in his perfection. Chiseled jaw lined with perfectly trimmed beard and mustache, plump lips with the bottom just slightly larger. The closer he got, the more tingles erupted across my skin. My body was fully aware I was about to be in the presence of someone worthy of worship, and it would beg for reciprocation.

His hand jutted out. “Ms. Benoit.” His voice was warm honey, and I’d never been more jealous of baked bread in my life.

Still in awe, I shook his hand, and it was like I’d stuck my hand in a light socket. My skin burns as electricity blazed a trail up my arm and across my chest into my stomach. Based on what I’d read, I should fear him, but for some unexplainable reason, I didn’t.

Up close, he was a beautiful man…and deadly. As I pictured myself running my fingers through his hair and over his skin, it registered that he’d said my name.

“You know my name?”

Mischief danced in his eyes. “I think the entire city of Chicago knows your name.”

Oh. Yeah. I guess I was rather…infamous. Or my father was, which meant I was guilty by association. “I guess that’s true.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of having a Benoit grace my establishment?” Was that a hint of sarcasm? I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucas knew the real Franklin Benoit.

My father was Jekyll and Hyde. To the world, he was as white as snow. A practically perfect man with a perfect business and family. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Only I knew his snow was already driven. Dirt and grime mixed in it, ripping the purity away. He held the fa?ade together well, though. A heavy hand and threats could do that. At least my mom was free now.

“I have a business prop…” My words faltered as a woman glided from the bar and slinked an arm across Lucas’s shoulder. I blinked in rapid succession. He had a girlfriend. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Even if that hadn’t been in any of the searches, I should have expected it.

Her stick-straight, shoulder-length hair matched the coal black of his, and so did her eyes. “Claire Benoit. Color me utterly surprised.” Again, a woman was raking her gaze over my body. Homely. It was what I’d been called many times by my father. She was probably wondering why someone who looked like me was even in Lucas’s atmosphere.

“Ms. Benoit?—”

“Claire,” I said, and quickly added, “Please. I’m not nearly as formal as Daddy.” I wasn’t anything like my father, but convincing people of that was typically an uphill battle.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed a fraction as his hands fisted at his sides. “Claire, this is my sister, Thea.” Her name certainly fit since it meant goddess. She was. There wasn’t so much as an ugly atom on this woman. Just like her brother, she oozed danger, but a more cunning sort.

Her hand lifted to mine. “Adopted.” I silently congratulated the family on their addition and my luck—which I hoped was finally turning around.

We shook hands, and I replied, “Nice to meet you.”

Thea leaned in, whispered something to Lucas, and with a few swishes of her hips, she was out the door.

“Sorry, she can be a little frosty.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “I think everyone is guilty of that now and then.” Returning my gaze to his, I found his brow somewhat furrowed, like there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

Instead of asking me anything, he waved a hand at a nearby booth. “Would you like to sit and have a drink with me?”

“I’ll sit, but I don’t drink.” Why did I sound like a mouse? Because I was in the company of a wolf.

“Water then?”

I nodded and nearly tripped when Lucas’s hand found its way to my lower back, guiding me to the booth. His heat spread into regions that kind of fire had never touched. When he planted himself on the bench facing the door, the only choice left was either sitting next to him or on the other side, facing the interior of the restaurant. I chose the latter.

He leaned back, his arm stretched across the top of his seat. He continued to keep his eyes on me like he was sizing me up.

I reached for the glass of water the moment it was placed on the table. I didn’t stop drinking until it was empty.

His eyebrows hitched upward. “Thirsty?” He waved his hand, indicating I needed a refill.

“Uh, just a little.” For you. That would not have been the best way to start this conversation. Good thing I had a filter.

The glass was refilled so quickly it was almost like he’d snapped his fingers to make it so.

His penetrating gaze bored into me, and if I’d had one of my collared sweaters, I’d have been pulling at it. This man could rip the confessions out of a priest without even saying a word.

The silence dragged out until the air popped and crackled.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” There was that warm honey again. I wondered if I could get a recording and play it when I was cold. No need for a coat when this man spoke.

Working to steady my voice, I tried to remember the speech I’d prepared. “I believe I have a business proposition that could benefit us equally.”

That seemed to get his attention because he pulled his arm down and leaned forward on the table. “I’m listening.”

He was listening.I stifled a giggle. This wasn’t the time for fun, anyway. I needed to be taken seriously. “In three weeks, I turn twenty-one.”

His lips twitched. “Are you looking for a job?”

“No. I’m looking for a husband.” There. I said it. It was out and completely unscripted. All that planning and I’d just blurted it out.

Nothing. Not so much as a flinch from him. “A husband, you say?”

“Yes, but I can pay you.” I quickly added.

Eyes narrowed. He sat stone-still, waiting for me to finish.

I couldn’t hold his gaze. I wasn’t even in this man’s stratosphere in terms of attractiveness. He’d be marrying down if he took me up on my offer. As many times as it was beaten into my head, I’d be lucky if any man wanted to be saddled with me, period.

“When I turn twenty-one in three weeks, I’ll receive my trust fund from my grandparents. You can have all of it minus a small amount so that—” I clamped my lips shut.

He didn’t need to know the why. With the staggering amount of money they’d left me, taking three hundred thousand was less than insignificant. I say they left it, but it was a gift. They didn’t like Franklin and wanted me to be taken care of. I’d often wondered if they knew how much my father hated me.

“So that you what?” His head tilted ever so slightly.

“It’s not important. What’s important is the money I’ll sign over to you. My grandparents left me half a billion dollars.”

Again, the man was like carved ice. Slick, smooth, and it wasn’t water that dripped from him; it was sex and confidence. He didn’t ask for things; he took them, and I suspected those of the female variety usually thanked him for it.

My heart dropped to my toes when he eased back. I knew what he was going to say.

I was back to square one, with no chance of finding a suitable replacement.