Jaxon realized her heart had slowed and was matching the rhythm of Lucian’s. She was once more able to breathe more easily. The warmth of his body had seeped into hers, and she felt incredibly safe. She closed her eyes and didn’t fight the emotions he brought out in her. She liked being in his arms. She liked feeling safe and not so alone. Most of all, Jaxon was determined that Lucian would never feel such stark loneliness again. She knew about being lonely, but the few times she had touched on his mind, his solitary existence had been utterly cold and bleak. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t examine the why of it very closely; she knew only that nothing else mattered to her quite so much as his safety.
“I am well aware you did something back there to those men,” she murmured against his chest, a note of drowsiness creeping into her voice. “Is this chauffeur yours?”
“He is on loan.”
“I noticed he didn’t hit the ground for cover. He dropped into a crouch and was fishing in his jacket for something. What do you think it was?” Jaxon opened her eyes and studied Lucian’s shadowed jaw. Without conscious thought her fingers crept up to touch his chin.
“I have no idea what most chauffeurs do in such circumstances,” Lucian replied innocently. “Perhaps he had a cell phone and was going to call for help.”
“Half the police force was already there.” She snuggled closer to him. She liked the feel of Lucian’s hand in her hair, the way he caressed the silky strands, the touch of his fingertips against her neck. “Who lent him to you?”
“He is the son of a friend’s housekeeper”
“A friend’s housekeeper?” she echoed, the suspicion in her voice increasing.
He sighed. “This is beginning to sound like an interrogation. Are you a police officer by any chance?”
“Absolutely. Tell me the whole story. I like tall tales.”
His hands crept around her neck in a mock threat. “You are going to give me no end of trouble, I can tell.”
“No one else does. It isn’t good for you to have all that deference paid to you all the time. You get so you believe you deserve it.” She was laughing, her body relaxed and pliant against his.
She belonged there. He felt it. Knew it in his deepest soul. There was no doubt in his mind that Jaxon was his other half. Created for him. Destined for him. Each time he looked at her, he found he wanted to smile. Each time he looked at her, his insides turned to molten lava.
Wrought-iron gates loomed up before the limousine, tall and intricate and as beautiful as the estate itself. The chauffeur drove the limousine smoothly through the opening and up the long drive to the house. Tall shrubbery on either side lent the grounds a wild, forestlike appearance. Everywhere she glanced were trees and ferns and bushes of some kind. Looking up at the house, she could see it had several stories, with turrets and balconies in unexpected places. Stained glass was woven throughout the walls in all shapes and sizes. It was beautiful and old-fashioned.
“The lifemate of my twin brother, Gabriel, sent me most of the stained glass. She does incredible work. She is a great healer, and it shows in her work. Many of the pieces were wrought by Francesca and their young ward, Skyler. The patterns offer much protection for those inside the house.” He said it quietly, matter-of-factly, as if offering up mundane conversation.
Jaxon realized that what he was telling her was far more important than it appeared on the surface. She took the hand he extended to her as she slipped out of the huge car. “I want you to know I’m not riding in that thing again. It’s so wasteful, it’s a sin. And if you don’t know how to drive, I’m excellent at it.”
The chauffeur cleared his throat, trying valiantly to hide his smile. “Excuse me, miss, you wouldn’t be trying to cut into my livelihood, would you?”
She tilted her head to one side and studied the man with shrewd, assessing eyes. He moved like a boxer, his gait perfect. There were heavy muscles under his absurd uniform. Whatever this man was, he was no chauffeur.