Chapter 36
Well. Fuck. After dusting the last little bits of gravel that have accumulated on my knees—and Luc checking me over twice—I stand beside him with his arm securely around my waist.
“If you wanted me on my knees, Luc,” I stand on the balls of my feet and whisper in his ear, “all you had to do was ask.” Luc’s grip on my hip tightens. “Hello,” I call, waving at people as they pass by us. A few people stop to ask if I’m all right, and I quickly brush them off, telling them I’m fine.
“Don’t tempt me, Rory.” His voice is a guttural groan.
“It wasn’t a temptation. But rather an invitation.”
Suddenly, I’m yanked away from the crowd and ushered around the side of the chateau, secluded in darkness and well away from all the guests.
“What the?” I gasp as I land on my knees in front of Luc. “Luc,” I breathe, eyes darting around.
Even in the shadows I can see the heat brewing in his eyes. “I’m about to teach you a lesson, Impératrice. Never make a deal if you can’t live up to it?”
“Oh, I can live up to it, can you? Is voyeurism becoming our thing?” I challenge him, sticking my chin out as my fingers make quick work of his belt.
“Trust me, Rory. Where you’re concerned, I don’t give a fuck who sees.” His words send a thrill through me as I fish his throbbing hard dick from inside his boxers. He groans the moment my mouth secures around the swollen head of his dick. “Fuck.” He drops his head between his shoulders, mouth open, eyes screwed shut in complete and utter rapture. Luc’s hand secures around the base of my skull, twisting into the strands of my hair. I continue to pump his length as I take his dick into my mouth all the way until he hits the back of my throat.
“Like that, baby,” he whispers when I gag on his dick. I breathe in through my nose as he takes over, pounding into me. I love watching the way his jaw clenches, and the sound of the chatter from all our guests on the other side of the chateau heightens the experience. My nipples pebble inside my bra. Fuck, I think I might be into outdoor fucking. It sure does make the heart pound at just the thought that, at any given moment, someone could walk by and catch us. Spit flies from the corner of my mouth from how fast he’s pumping. It’s not long before his dick hardens as he gets ready to come down my throat.
“The question here, Impératrice, is spit or swallow?” My eyes meet his as I increase my suction, hollowing my cheeks out—giving him absolutely no choice but to let go right where he is. It tips him over the edge. I eagerly swallow down the hot spurts of cum he greedily pumps into my mouth.
When I finally release his spent dick from my mouth with a satisfied smirk, “Swallow,” is my only reply as I get to my feet. Luc wipes the line of spit from the corner of my chin and licks his thumb.
“I didn’t think you could get any more irresistible, then you go and suck my cock like it’s a sport,” he whispers, before kissing my lips.
“I hope I won the trophy.” I tuck his cock into his pants, zipping it up.
“Yes. You definitely did.” He nods, rolling his lips over each other.
“I better get back before they start to wonder where we’ve gone.” I bite the underside of his chin and leave him to fix himself up. As I wind my way through the tables toward Madeline, I discretely check my breath. I hope I don’t have a serious case of dick breath going on—because I have no clue how I’m going to explain myself out of that. I snag a drink on a passing tray and down it in a gulp. Alcohol—the disinfector I need. I spot a familiar face among the crowd and make a beeline for him.
“Timothé, you made it,” I greet. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the high I’m riding from sucking off Luc, but I lean forward and kiss Timothé on each cheek.
“Oi, the summer festival is something I wouldn’t miss.” Timothé smiles as he takes a bite from a small piece of bread covered in roasted peppers. “How are the renovations coming along?”
“The second floor is nearly finished.” I nod, bringing him up to speed with the other jobs we’ve completed since he was here last.
“Any luck with the jewels?”
A knot forms in my stomach. Taking that as a sign, I lie through my teeth. “No, I haven’t found them yet. Just as a matter of curiosity, why do you want them?” Something seems off with Timothé, and I want to get to the bottom of why exactly he wants them before I just hand them over.
“They hold priceless sentimental value.” His reply sounds too composed.
“I bet.” I feign innocence. “I’m sure a few rings and an old necklace would have some sort of family meaning.”
Timothé’s lips pull into a thin line. “It’s a bit more than a few rings, Aurora. It’s the collection dating back to the duchess herself.”
I continue to stare at his face, there is something about the slope of his nose, it’s like I’ve seen it before.
“Wow, they must be some really amazing jewels, then.”
Timothé nods his head once. “Do be sure to let me know when you find them.” He pats my shoulder and walks off.
I hide my clenched fist behind my back. “Of course,” I reply, watching his retreating figure before winding my way back through the crowd. I have to play hostess, after all.
I need to find Luc. After our little team meeting around the back, I saw he went into the kitchen. Probably to help after I ruined that whole tray of food. When I’m sure no one is looking, I slip away, entering the kitchen from the side door to avoid having to climb those stone steps again tonight, and breathe a sigh of relief the moment the door swings shut behind me.
“You’re here,” I blurt, just as the feedback from the microphone echoes through the chateau.
“It’s the annual speech time.” Luc straightens, rolling up the sleeves of the chef jacket he dons. “Aurora, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Luc’s deep honey eyes darken as he assesses me.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I reply, running my hand through my hair, calming the errant strands. I’ll tell him about Timothé later.
He nods, gripping my elbow. “Come one, we can’t be late for the speeches.”
“But what about…” My protest dies on my tongue.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all so much for coming,” I hear Madeline announce and quicken my steps. Luc continues to hold my arm as we descend down the steps, partly to stop me from falling again. When we reach the last step, we wait at the base, and I casually rest my arm on the balustrade. It gives a groan as it moves. Right, I still have to get that fixed. I opt to stand and clasp my hands in front of me.
“It is my absolute pleasure to be speaking up here for another summer festival,” Madeline continues. “We have to thank the lovely Michèle for offering us his services for the night.” Michèle takes a step forward from where he was leaning causally against the bar and waves at everyone. The crowd gives an uproar, saluting their drinks at him, clapping and whistling. It seemed slightly excessive, but everyone was at that happy buzzed level. Michèle bows and points to the waitstaff scattered around different tables. The crowd continues cheering.
“Ah,” Madeline breathes into the microphone, her face glowing with happiness. Her cheeks are held so high from her smile, a Botox injector would be jealous. “Thank you again, Michèle, and your staff, we are honored and privileged you were available for us tonight.” Madeline truly is in her element. As Carcen’s youngest mayor—and first female mayor to hold the position for two consecutive terms—she made sure to make everyone feel valued and a part of something. “Thank you to the band, who has been giving us wonderful background music,” Madeline continues, and the crowd doesn’t die down for a moment. “And finally, none of this would be complete if it weren’t for some very special people opening some very special doors. Chateau des éveillés has been the heart of Carcen for the last three hundred years, and this year, we can finally celebrate the end of our harvest on the grounds that put Carcen on the map. Aurora Allard, Jean-Luc Beadeux, would you like to say something?” Madeline questions, staring at us and holding the microphone out in the air.
“Oh, um,” I mumble, my gaze darting around, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. I was not prepared to give a speech. A hush falls and all eyes are staring at me like I’m a fish at an aquarium—waiting. I take a deep, calming breath and plaster on a fake smile, pushing my shoulders back and striding on wobbly legs toward Madeline, only to have Luc beat me to the punch and take the microphone from Madeline’s outstretched hand. My steps falter as my eyes widen. Madeline steps back as Luc stares out at the crowd, his face alight with a glow. He purposely doesn’t glance at me once.
“Hello,” Luc’s loud voice, full and robust, speaks into the microphone, hushing the crowd. “It is an absolute honor to be able to throw open the gates to everyone, doing exactly what I plan to be doing with the chateau.”
What the fuck!?
A red haze clouds my vision.
Shouldn’t it be we? He certainly had me believing so when he shoved his dick down my throat half an hour ago?
My teeth grind, popping my jaw, or some enamel, or my fucking tooth—take your pick.
Luc continues to address the crowd, who lap it up like he’s the second coming of the messiah. At this point, he could have said we have the remains of the duke himself, and Luc would’ve sold tickets to everyone attending. He is one of them, after all. He’s a local. He’s spent his whole life here. I’m just the outsider. The one who inherited the chateau that no one thought would stay past the weekend and would just sign everything over to him. The walls around me start to close in as I scan the crowd and see everyone watching Luc with awe on their faces.
Was he just pretending this whole time to be in love with me so that I would actually fall for him and trick me into doing something stupid like sign my share over?
Blood starts to thump through my veins, pulsing as the air in my lungs dries up. They will never look at me with such fondness, such pride. Too fucking bad. Over the last few months, this chateau and Carcen have become my home—and I’m not going to just let that go so easily. My feet act on their own accord. I close the distance and step onto the stage, yanking the microphone from Luc’s grasp.
How dare he insinuate that the chateau is all his.
I clear my throat. “Yes, WE look forward to the future when we can have more festivities here. This chateau would be nothing if it weren’t for you guys.”
Luc tries to wrestle the microphone from me, but the death grip I have on it proves too difficult for him. My nails bite into the already broken skin on my palm, and Luc pulls the microphone and my arm with it. His jaw ticks as he stares at me, his eyes now a turbulent brewed mead mix. “Yes, it’s important the good people of Carcen know who isn’t just focusing on a contract but long-term goals. Weekly events and parties, as well as accommodation.”
I pull the microphone back with Luc’s hand still firmly grasping my hand, which is grasping the microphone, and return his glare. “There will be an abundance of events for the good people of Carcen to enjoy and keep themselves busy, because if the good people of Carcen relied on long-lost letters to prove their worth, shouldn’t they do the right thing and bow out,” I say through gritted teeth, my stomach flopping around in a mixture of anxiety and anger. I chalk the extra courage up to the glass of champagne on an empty stomach, because normal Aurora would be smiling and nodding at anything anyone said as long as it got her off the center stage.
Luc pulls the microphone back. “Why would someone bow out of something they have known about their whole life and not for six months,” he bites back.
I gasp so loud I almost choke on the extra intake of air. My brain fizzles trying to think of a comeback, but my mind has short-circuited, so instead, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Blood means blood, not someone who wishes they were blood. I am a direct descendant of the original duke and duchess.”
“Oh-kay.” Madeline rushes over and takes the microphone. Everyone is staring at us, some with mouths slightly open, not really sure what to make of the display. Silencing Luc’s reply, but I still hear him snort. “More like twice removed descendant.”
“So that is Jean-Luc and Aurora, the co-owners of Chateau des éveillés,” Madeline declares, and with a slight push, tries to get us off the stage. The uneasy way she licks her bottom lip—the only tell that she is nervous—is what has my heavy feet moving. “So nice to see a young couple running this place and breathing new life into it.” Madeline has her fake, everything-is-perfect smile on, the microphone firmly clasped between both hands, making it clear no one else is going to be speaking tonight. Not a single person claps as we move off the stage, completely unlike the reception Michèle got. Someone breaks the silence with a small cough, and a few people start to slowly clap their hands together, but it dissolves quickly.
“We look forward to the party you will be having when the chateau is ready for guests,” Madeline continues, waiting until we have both cleared the steps before she moves on to the next part of her speech. When the dark night envelopes us, Madeline turns back to the crowd and releases a sigh. “Moving on.” She breathes before starting her next round of thank-yous.
Screw Luc and his stupid face. Screw him for making me fall for him. Screw him for getting me out of my shell, for giving me the strength to be the woman I am, not the woman my mother wants me to be. Screw him for all those stupid beautiful words that were poison that he easily spewed from his lips. Screw me for screwing him thinking it was more. At least I’ve finally woken up and seen the truth for what it really is. Luc has always been my enemy, and we muddied the waters—and of course my stupid heart thought it meant something else. I stomp up the stairs, needing some time alone, and head for the kitchen. There is a cream cake with my name on it. I’m an emotional eater, and nothing calms me down better than cake.
“Are you proud of yourself,” Luc growls, slamming the front door shut.
“I’m sorry, Mr. I-Own-This,” I say, lowering my voice in a mockery of his. “Last time I checked, the butt nuggets haven’t hatched from the chicken,” I growl and open the fridge door. There, sitting on the middle shelf like a beacon is a tray of cream cakes. I grab the whole tray just to be on the safe side. In the state I’m currently in, one cake would not be enough. “Come to Mama.” I lick my lips, closing the door with the heel of my foot. The sound of Madeline talking and the crowd laughing and cheering carries from the front windows. I pull my face and mock laughing.
“Is that something you say in English that you tried to make French?” Luc asks, shaking his head at my analogy. I cut my stare to him. My heart splinters—the case that I’ve kept around the stupid organ now blown wide open as the man standing in front of me holds the key.
“Oh please, you know exactly what I mean.” I slide my fork through the cake and take a generous bite.
“I feel ashamed to say I do,” Luc replies, taking another fork from the drawer.
“Mine.” My growl is more animal than human when he slides his fork into an uneaten cake. I have to share my home, my space, and my art with this man, but I’ll be damned if I have to share my cake with him too.
Luc throws his head back and barks out a short, sharp laugh. “Everything seems to be yours. Here’s a novel concept, haven’t you ever heard of sharing.”
“I wouldn’t know, I’m too busy being twice removed.” Another bite of cake. “Look at them all laughing.” Another bite, my jaw working furiously. Taking another bite of cake, with my mouth still full, I scoff, too angry to form a coherent thought. “Good people of Carcen.” Another bite. Shaking my head, I snort. “Six months.” Another bite of cake. “We can never be more, not with the chateau between us.”
“She even has conversations with herself, yet I am the delusional one,” Luc mumbles as he takes another bite.
“That’s because you are.” I glower at him and move on to a new cake. “You egotistical, arrogant, conceited, pig-headed…”
“Are you just going to list synonyms of the same word?” He snarls.
“You…you…you,” I stammer, searching for the correct word, the perfect comeback, a sharp-tongued, witty reply, but I come up blank. My chest heaves as my eyes dart around the room, leaving me to do the only thing I can think of. I pick up a cake and let it fly, hitting Luc squarely in the chin. Luc stares at me in shock.
“Did you just throw cake at me?” he questions, eyebrows raised so high they almost hit his hairline, eyes wide in shock.