“You are?”
“Yes. I took the bet for good measure, though. I know how much you love to prove me wrong. It was a winning bet for me either way.”
She remained silent for the rest of the trip—Lucien’s low, delicious voice echoing in her head—turning over the unsettling fact in her mind that Lucien had known her reaction to taking that bet before she had.
Francesca and Ian entertained on a massive outdoor terrace situated on the roof of the dark brick art deco tower where Ian lived. The view was fabulous—the dark blue expanse of Lake Michigan to the east and the scarlet ball of the sun setting behind the cityscape to the west. Francesca had made the small area near a wet bar and fire pit intimate with paper lanterns that glowed a warm gold as darkness fell. It was a small party, consisting only of Francesca’s friends Davie Feinstein, Justin Maker, and Caden Joyner; Ian’s driver, Jacob; and Francesca’s graduate school adviser, a friendly middle-aged woman named Anara Sloan. Also present was Lin Soong—Ian’s executive assistant—Ian, Francesca, Lucien, Elise, and Mrs. Hanson, Ian’s housekeeper, who kept trying to serve everyone despite Ian’s and Francesca’s frequent reminders that she was a guest. A built-in speaker system played a relaxed jazz mix. After an hour and a half of being there, Elise was feeling very content and mellow, even in the midst of Justin’s and Caden’s increasingly competitive flirtations.
“I hope they’re not driving you crazy,” Francesca apologized in a confidential tone when Justin went to open yet another bottle of champagne. Elise had occasionally noticed Lucien’s gaze on her from across the terrace where he spoke to Jacob, Ian, and Davie. She strongly suspected that he was waiting for her to slip up and say something she shouldn’t with all the alcohol that had been flowing given the celebratory mood of the party.
“Not at all. They’re really nice guys. Davie, Justin, Caden, and you are roommates, right?”
Francesca nodded. “Davie watches over us all,” she said, smiling.
“You’re lucky, to have such good friends,” Elise said feelingly. For a horrible moment, her throat tightened. Too late; Francesca noticed.
“Elise. Are you all right?” Francesca asked, sitting forward slightly, concern etching her features as she stared at Elise’s face.
Elise slid her social mask back into place, only missing a beat. “Yes, of course. I’ll bet you’ll miss them, after you move in with Ian. Your friends, I mean. When will the wedding be?”
“We haven’t decided yet. Probably next spring. I finish my classwork this winter at my program, and then I just have a final project due before I can get my master’s. I’ll likely be finished by the spring. We’re thinking of eloping to Hydra. Ian owns a place there.”
“Oh, that’ll be beautiful.”
“You’ve been to Hydra?” Francesca asked, eyes wide.
“Yes, my parents own a home in Poros. I haven’t been to the islands in ages, though.”
Elise threw a surreptitious glance in Lucien’s direction, but his attention was on Davie as they conversed.
“Ian and Lucien seem like good friends,” she said in a hushed yet off-the-cuff manner.
“They are. Ian is very comfortable with him. He doesn’t worry about his true intentions, like he has to with so many other potential friends he meets,” Francesca said.
Elise nodded in understanding. “It’s hard. A man like Ian has to always wonder about people’s motivations. How long have they known each other?”
Francesca wrinkled her brow. “I’m not sure if Ian has ever said exactly, but I do know they were introduced by a common acquaintance in Paris several years back. Ian took to visiting Lucien in his restaurant whenever he was in Paris, and they discovered they both loved fencing. They started working out together when they got the chance. When Ian decided to open up his headquarters here in Chicago, he asked Lucien to open the restaurant in the tower as a personal favor.”
“Hey, Ian,” Justin called across the terrace, interrupting a conversation Elise found extremely interesting. Ian and Lucien paused in their exchange, turning toward Justin. Night had almost completely fallen. Elise noticed idly that Lucien’s and Ian’s shadows were exactly the same height, their profiles both stark and arresting. “Why don’t you put on some real music? I might want to teach your fiancée how to dance,” Justin called.
Francesca snorted into her champagne.
“I taught you how to dance, you braggart,” she chastised.
“Just keep the gymnastics to a minimum, please. The last time I saw these two dance, Francesca left the floor with tennis elbow,” Ian told Elise drolly as he passed them.
“Tennis elbow?” Elise asked, confused.
“Don’t ask,” Francesca said, laughing.
Elise thought she understood after Ian went behind the bar and changed the music selection to a dance mix. Justin immediately pulled Francesca into an athletic, exuberant dance that did, indeed, look potentially harmful to life and limb. She was enjoying watching the two friends dance beneath the stars when Caden approached her.
“Come on, we can’t let these two steal the show.”
Elise removed her high-heeled sandals and took Caden’s hand. As she walked over to the designated dance floor—an open area behind the outdoor furniture—she noticed Lucien’s eyes gleaming in the firelit darkness as he watched her. A thrill went through her for some reason. He’d been ignoring her all night—well, not ignoring exactly. She’d sensed his attention sporadically, his alert focus as he observed her. Why was he stretching things out now that she no longer officially worked for him and they’d both completed their medical exams? He was driving her mad with his elusiveness.