Lucas It’s eleven PM the following night, and I’ve barely sl ept over the last twenty-four hours. I’ve been pacing around my apartment, waiting for the bell to ring and slowly losing hope. I’ve misjudged this to such a terrible degree that it’s almost comical. I gave Amelia everything she needed and then expected to be enough to win her back. Just me. A man who fucked her without even attempting to get to know her, who pays for sex from escorts instead of having real relationships. Why would she ever choose that? Not to mention that I’m fifteen years older than her, she could have anyone. One of those tanned, beautiful men in the Maldives would almost certainly be more her type. I don’t even know if I am her type. All I’m certain of is that she was with me for the money. She used her body to give me whatever I wanted, and now, without obligation or expectation, I’ve let her go. As if she would ever willingly come back. Christ, I am the biggest schmuk alive. Alexis and Gerald sit on the st ep above the sunken couch, watching me pace with perplexed expressions. I run my hands through my hair for the fiftieth time, just as my cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and I dive for it, praying that it’s her. But it’s Ambrose’s name on the screen. I hit the green button. “I fucked up,” I say without preamble. There is a short pause, and then I hear the sound of a glass being placed down on a surface. “Dio mio! I was calling to congratulate you on the deal. Have you angered Barnes already? This is unlike you, Luca.” “I fucked up with Amelia.” All I hear from his end is a chuckle, and I scowl into the phone, my hands clenching as I wait for him to speak. “Well?” I demand after almost half a minute of silence. “You fucked up how, my friend? By not realizing you adore her until now?” “Oh, great. You’re telling me you knew?” “Of course, I knew. From the first moment I st epped into your office that day. She is clever, principled, and without ego. She is perfect for you. But of course, you are not used to women of her caliber. I was worried you might be an idiot. What did you do?” “Oh, thanks, Ambrose, you’re making me feel so much better.” “A friend’s job is not to make someone feel better, it is to tell the truth when no one else will.” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my forehead. “You promise you won’t judge me too harshly?” “I promise to judge you very harshly indeed if you have hurt that young girl. She adored you.” I stare ahead into the bright lights of New York beneath me. I can see tiny cars racing up and down the street and the lights of office workers at their desks long into the night.
“She was an escort,” I say finally. “She was paid to look at me that way. How can that mean anything at all?” There is a long, agonizing silence, and then Ambrose sighs heavily. “You silly boy. One cannot pretend at everything.” I slump down on a barstool, closing my eyes. “What do you mean?” “Believe it or not, my friend, I have seen escorts in my time before. Intelligent, usually savvy businesswomen who know what they are doing to make a man come back for more. Amelia was none of those things. She was authentic.” “But she was only there because I paid her to be.” “And why is she gone? I assume she is gone, or you would not sound so bereft.” I stand up, beginning to pace again as I start to explain everything that has happened between me and Amelia since the night we spent with Ambrose. I add in as much detail as I can, including the trip to the Maldives, and that final, horrible fuck on the plane. I lay it out as clearly as I can, and every word that comes out of my mouth makes me feel worse than the last. When I finish speaking, he doesn’t say anything immediately. Ambrose is measured in everything he does and rarely leaps to conclusions or makes rash decisions. “What would you like me to say, Luca?” he asks finally. I slump down in my seat as Alexis mews at me and trots over to curl up on my lap. I bury my hand in her long, white fur. “I don’t know. That I’m an idiot and you saw this coming from a mile off?” “Do you want Amelia?” he asks. “Of course, haven’t you been listening?” “Then why have you treated her in such a way?” I sit forward on the couch, dislodging the cat. “What? I’m trying to help her, to give her a choice!” He tuts under his breath. “You have given her no such thing. You have removed her agency from the one thing in her life she has strived so hard for—to save her sister. You may have done so because you care, but also because, de ep down, you hope it will influence her to choose you. Did you ever ask her what she wanted? Or did you simply tell her how things were going to be?” Very slowly, I sink back in my seat. “Fuck.” “You can be bullish and pigheaded at times, Luca, but this is impressive even for you.” “What do I do?” I ask dejectedly. “Give her time,” he says, a little more gently. “A day is hardly enough for her to process all this. She is dealing with her sister’s illness; the stress of that alone would be overwhelming. You have piled yet more decisions on the poor girl’s shoulders. Everything else must be up to her.” I groan, unable to speak. “If she comes to you, and I hope she does, for your sake, listen to her, Lucas; she knows her own mind better than you could ever hope to.”
I open my mouth to say more, but suddenly the doorbell goes. “Oh my God,” I say into the phone, leaping to my feet and running across the apartment. “Jesus Christ, there’s someone at the door.” “Well, well, you have been granted a moment’s grace, it would seem,” he says, and there is a rare warmth and understanding in his voice. “Do not, as the Americans say, screw this up.” “Thank you, Ambrose,” I say sincerely. “Love her and listen to her. Goodnight, old friend.” I hang up the phone as I reach the far wall and fire up the video screen. Roy’s face looms into view. “There is a Miss Amelia Brooks to see you, sir.” “Send her up,” I say, too loudly and forcefully, and as the image disappears, I don’t know what to do with myself. I walk to the kitchen, come back, stand aimlessly waiting for the elevator, and then go and lean against the table opposite it. It’s just like the night when she came here the first time, but now I have more nerves in my stomach than I know what to do with. Christ, what if she has just come here to break it off for good? Then the elevator doors open, and I stand up at the sight of her. She’s soaking wet. I hadn’t even realized it was raining until this moment. I st ep forward as she comes out of the elevator, slipping off her shoes and placing them neatly beside the wall. She has a coat on that’s sodden too, and she looks bedraggled and tired. She looks, in fact, like she did the first day I met her—the real Amelia. A woman I am eager to finally get to know. “Let me get you a towel,” I say quickly. I grab one from the bathroom, coming out to find her with Alexis rubbing against her legs. I don’t know what to do or say, so I simply hand her the towel. “Thank you.” “Is everything alright?” I ask. “I’m sorry it’s so late.” I put a gentle hand on her arm and lead her into the living room and over to the couch. “I’m glad you’re here. What’s happened? Is Annabelle okay?” The long sigh that comes out of her mouth makes my heart ache. “The doctors gave her some new drugs to pr epare for the treatment,” Amelia says. “They’ve made her pretty lethargic. I was worried she was sle eping too much and had to wait for the doctor to come and see me, but they’re confident she’s alright. I’m going to go back first thing and check on her. She’s sle eping now, but she hates being alone in the hospital.” “Alright, I’m so glad she’s doing okay. Melvin can drive you there in the morning if you want. But it’s up to you...” I take a de ep breath. “What do you need? Have you eaten?” She nods. “I had a baguette from the canteen at the hospital. I just wanted to get here tonight so we could talk.” My chest tightens. “But I’m so tired, I’m not sure I would make much sense, right now.” I take her hand. “Can I say something, then? I’ll try to be brief.” She frowns at me, her thumb smoothing over the back of my hand. “Of course.” “Since I left your parents’ house yesterday, I’ve been thinking a lot about our time together. All I wanted to say is that from now on, I’m going to stop dictating everything. This, you and me, needs to be your choice. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it.”
I squeeze her hand. “And you should stay here tonight. I have a lot of guest rooms, and you can get some real rest without me disturbing you. In the morning, you can be with your sister, and if you need more time to decide about you and me, that’s okay. I can wait.” She glances at me, a frown marring her beautiful face, and she nods. “Yeah. Maybe sle ep would be best right now.” Unsure how to interpret the sad little downturn of her lips, I simply interlace our fingers, stand up, and lead her down the hall to one of the guest rooms I rarely use. She walks inside, looking around, and my heart aches at how much I want to pull her into my arms and never let go. Give her time, Lucas. That’s the least you can do. “Would you like anything else? I could make you an herbal tea?” I offer. She shrugs one shoulder. “I might take a shower, if that’s alright.” “Of course. There’s a bathroom right down the hall.” She nods, clutching the towel to her like a lifeline, and then walks past me and up the hallway. At the door to the shower, she turns, her eyes locking with mine, and there’s such heat in them I catch my breath. “Are you coming or not?” she asks with a little smile. I stare at her, desire pulsing through me, before I march up the hallway, lift her off her feet, and spin her around, kissing her de eply as she gives a wonderful little giggle of surprise. I pull back, lowering her to her feet, and she smiles up at me contentedly. “We should talk,” I say grimly, Ambrose’s advice storming back into my mind even as my hands brush over her waist. “I know,” she says. “But not right now.” “What do you want?” I ask, lowering myself so my eyes are at her level. “Whatever you want, we’ll do that.” “I just want you,” she says softly. “The logistics can wait.” I tug her against me, wrapping my arms around her briefly, before pulling her gently into the bathroom. I can see by the way she’s moving that she’s exhausted, and after I have turned on the water, and steam is slowly rising behind her, I lay a hand on her shoulder. “May I undress you?” She rolls her eyes. “You’ve seen me naked dozens of times.” “Well, this time it’s different. I’m going to worship you like I should have right from the beginning.” The contented smile on her face is beautiful, and she leans into me as I begin to undress her. Amelia is languid in my arms, and I ke ep my movements slow, ensuring she can stop me at any time. Once we’re in the shower under the hot spray, I lather her body with soap, relishing the feel of her skin. She leans against me heavily to begin with, her eyes closed, and I wash her hair, enjoying the moan she lets out as I massage her head. After a few minutes, she twists around; her arms going around my waist, and embraces me. It’s the first real hug we’ve ever shared, and I pull her against me, holding her close. “This is nice,” she murmurs, her voice muffled by the shower. I tighten my grip. “This is how it should have been right from the start.”
She yawns but doesn’t let me go, and I turn off the shower, pulling a fluffy towel from the stack behind the stall and wrapping her in it. Amelia is barely able to ke ep her eyes open. I dry myself off as quickly as I can and wrap the towel around my waist as I lead her out of the bathroom, automatically heading in the direction of my bedroom before I stop, turning to her with a frown. “Would you rather sle ep somewhere else?” I ask. “That’s okay if that’s what you want.” She shakes her head, gripping me a little tighter, and then takes the lead, walking ahead of me up the stairs as the rain pounds against the windows around us. As soon as we’re in my room, she’s climbing into the bed and collapsing against the pillows. I've never seen anything so right and perfect in my life. Alexis jumps up beside her and settles down, blending in with the white of the sheets as I climb in. “I’ll have to be up early,” Amelia murmurs. “That’s alright, I’ll wake you,” I say, rubbing her upper arm gently. We lie there silently for a long time, Amelia drawing patterns on my chest with her forefinger. I’m too terrified to speak as her eyes move up to mine. “When you were sick, and I came to look after you, I imagined sharing this bed one day. I’m glad I’m here.” I scoot a little closer. “Me too.” She pulls her hand away, placing it beneath her cheek. Her eyes are like emeralds as she looks over at me, and I’m floored all over again by how beautiful she is. Inside and out. “I want this to be real, too,” she whispers, and a tension I didn’t even know was there finally releases from my body as I relax into the mattress. “I just want us to be together, no strings, no expectations. Just you and me,” I say as I curl her hair behind her ear. “Whatever you have to face from now on, I’ll be right there with you, if that’s what you want.” She gives a happy smile. “It is.” Her eyes flutter closed as I pull myself more tightly against her body. “Just you and me,” she whispers as I place a kiss on her head. The rain is falling hard against the windows, and the wind is howling around the apartment outside, but I have never felt so warm, content, and happy in my life. Epilogue - Amelia Three months later... I st ep into the elevator at the Crawford offices as I ascend to the top floor. It’s been a long time since I was last here, and I feel very different from how I did on the first day.
As I st ep out onto the floor, there’s no one around, all the desks just as immaculate and perfect as I remember them. I shift my clutch under my arm, walking over the plush carpet toward a familiar and intricate door. I smile as it opens and Franklin Barnes emerges, looking pissed off, as I hear Lucas’s exasperated voice behind him. “That’s entirely my point. You are as stubborn as a mule!” Lucas is saying, one hand in his pocket, but a smile on his face. “I wish I’d never agreed to work with you. You’re an asshole,” Franklin mutters without much heat, and then they both see me. Franklin rolls his eyes, but Lucas’s gaze runs over my body, and I can see the familiar pulse of heat as he licks his lips. “Evening, Franklin,” I say as Barnes comes forward to greet me. “Amelia, my darling, would you please knock some sense into this oaf? You look beautiful.” “Why, thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek as he does the same to me. “I like your tie.” He smirks at me, holding out the yellow tie covered in yet more flamingoes. It’s even brighter than the last. “My son continues to torment me.” “Am I interrupting?” I ask. Their meeting should have ended over an hour ago. “Not at all, Lucas has been boring me with how wonderful you are. I may commission one of your paintings for my office; it really does help add a splash of color to this place.” I frown at him in confusion as he kisses my hand. “But I really must be going before my wife accuses me of abandoning her again. Lucas, it was good to see you, as always. I will email you my thoughts on all your terrible ideas. Goodbye, Amelia. I look forward to seeing you at dinner next weekend.” “Goodbye, Franklin,” I say with a grin, as he heads toward the elevators. I turn back toward Lucas. “Hey, gorgeous.” “You’re telling me. Holy fuck, you look sensational.” “You approve?” I ask, turning in a circle. I’m wearing a long satin gown of gold, which I knew he would love. He stalks toward me, pulling me against him, and I can feel just how much he likes it by his hardening cock. “Wow. Hello,” I say, as he groans into my mouth. “I don’t have time to show you what I think of you in this dress, do I?” he asks. “Not if you want to be on time, no.” “My brothers are late for everything.” “Not when they’re introducing their new girlfriend to their whole family, they’re not,” I say firmly. He grunts r eproachfully. “Fine. But I get to fuck the living shit out of you later.” “You’re so romantic.” “I know,” he says with a smirk and then goes to close his office door. “Wait a second,” I say. “What was Franklin talking about with that commission stuff?”
Lucas turns to me, fidgeting in place as he shrugs a shoulder. “Uh... well, he likes your art.” “Lucas, he’s never seen my art.” His only r eply is to push the door open further, and I walk inside curiously, only to see one of my paintings hanging above the couch. It’s a portrait I did of Lucas’s face some time ago, in gold and white. I never intended it to be hung anywhere, least of all his office, and I look back at him in alarm. “That... that’s not supposed to be there!” I say, but he waves me off. “I love it. It’s staying. And it means I can brag about you to whoever will listen.” I sigh, looking at all the imperfections I wish I had dealt with before he did this. “Stop picking it to pieces. You never think anything you paint is finished, and I love it because it’s from you.” He grabs his jacket and quickly tugs on his socks and shoes as I smooth a hand over my gown. I look confident even if I don’t feel it. “They’re gonna love you,” he says, kissing the top of my head as we make our way to the elevator. “I hope so,” I say, tugging at the seam. “Do any of them know how we got together?” “No, and if they ever find out, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m the one who hired you; the guilt is all on me. I’m just the lucky sonofabitch who convinced you to stick around.” We travel down to the parking lot, and Melvin drives up in a Rolls-Royce I’ve not seen before. “Wow. Is this the car you ke ep in the country?” I ask. “It is. I thought we’d arrive in style. Also, Charlie will lose his shit when he sees it. He hates all that crap, and I do love pissing him off.” I snort as I get into the car. It’s plush and beautiful inside, and there is a champagne flute waiting for me in a holder behind the driver’s seat. “My lady,” Melvin says. “My lord,” I r eply. “You look very handsome tonight. My goodness.” Lucas shoots me a glare as Melvin adjusts his tie. “You’ll make me blush, Amelia.” I grin at him, saluting him with my glass, and we set off as Lucas sips from his drink, the lights of New York crossing through the car like shards of gold. “Which one is a ruby wedding anniversary, again?” I ask. “I meant to look it up, but I forgot.” “Forty years. It’s also my mother’s favorite gemstone, so I was commissioned to find her a gift. My dad’s been asking for my help with things like that for years. He’s terrible at presents.” “Do you have it with you?” I ask excitedly, and he chuckles. “You do love sparkly things,” he says fondly as he pulls out a box and shows me a beautiful set of pearl and ruby earrings. “Oh my goodness, Lucas, they’re beautiful.” “They are, aren’t they?” “She’ll love them.” “Oh no, these are for you. My mother doesn’t have pierced ears,” he says, flashing me a grin, and I stare at him. “What? Are these real rubies?” I say, my voice coming out higher than usual.
Lucas’s grin only widens as he hands them to me. It’s his ‘no nonsense’ face, and he glares at me until I take the box with trembling fingers. “Lucas, I can’t wear these, they’re so expensive!” I say weakly, but he just nudges me until I put them in my ears. Once I’ve secured them in place, I show him, and the bright happiness in his eyes is enough to placate me. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, kissing me gently and pulling back. “Thank you, they’re gorgeous,” I say, snapping the box shut and placing it on the seat between us. “The color reminds me of that dress you wore the night you came to my apartment,” he says, smirking at me, and I shake my head. “Ambrose is going to be there tonight, isn’t he? Are you planning on a r epeat performance?” I ask, just to get a reaction from him. He tugs me across the back seat, and I almost spill my champagne everywhere. “Fuck no. I love Ambrose, but you’re mine. And that time in my life is well and truly over. I don’t need anyone else now. I have you.” I lean against him contentedly as we continue on through the New York traffic. After a while, we arrive at the hotel where his parents' wedding anniversary is taking place. I’ve heard a lot about Elona and Ed, but I’ve not met them until now. The only member of his family that I see often is Charlie, and although Lucas gets stupidly jealous about how close we are, Charlie is like a goofy older brother to me. Lucas helps me out of the car, and we walk inside to gentle piano music playing and dozens of people in beautiful suits and dresses mingling about. But I barely notice any of it, immediately taken aback by the artwork on the walls. “Oh, I know that painting!” I say. “That was at the Statesman!” I stare around at the other paintings on display, frowning as I realize every one of them is familiar to me. I’m about to remark on it when I see the owner of the gallery, Michael Statesman, walking toward me through the mingling guests. “Oh my God,” I whisper, as Lucas st eps up beside me, his hand smoothing over my waist. “Hello, Michael,” Lucas says, greeting the gallery owner as if he’s known him forever. “Quite the venue for your pieces.” Michael nods enthusiastically. “I’m very grateful to you, Mr. Crawford, for putting our little gallery on the map. Hello Amelia.” I shake his hand. “How do you know my name?” “Oh, I remember you. One doesn’t forget a lady wandering in off the street in a waitress's uniform and talking about art like a connoisseur.” I laugh, glancing at Lucas. “Well, I have always loved your gallery. I think you have a unique eye.”
“So Mr. Crawford tells me. I was honored to be able to show your piece.” I freeze, staring at him, as he st eps aside and holds out an arm. There, front and center in the room, is my self-portrait. The fractured face looks back at me like an alien, entirely unlike the woman I’ve become. I turn to Michael in amazement. “How did you—” “Mr. Crawford asked me to view it for him. I've chosen it for my next exhibit. I can promise you it was objective. He told me nothing of the artist, merely that he admired them. You have talent, Amelia. It’s a wonderful piece.” He is hailed from the other side of the room by a man and a woman coming through the doors, and he nods to us as he moves away. I compose myself, turning to Lucas, half furious, half elated. “I can’t believe you,” I hiss. “Tonight is about meeting your parents!” He shrugs in that infuriating way of his. “There was an opportunity, and I took it. When I booked this hotel, they were discussing what to have as their next art exhibition. I knew you loved the Statesman, and so I thought I’d stop by. Michael was only too eager to partner with them. It’s great publicity for a small gallery and wonderful for the artists too.” “Lucas,” I say, gesturing at the portraits around the room. “These people are on a whole other level to me—” “They’re not. You just think so because you don’t realize how talented you are.” I roll my eyes at him. “You’re biased.” “Well, if he’s biased, so is half the room. I’ve been standing next to your painting for twenty minutes, and everyone loves it.” I turn, my heart swelling at the sight of my sister in a floor-length midnight blue gown. It matches the long scarf tied around her head, hiding her temporary hair loss. Her skin is glowing, and she looks flushed and healthy. The LUNA treatment, which has been ongoing for three months, has been tough for all of us, but there’s no denying the impact it’s having. Dr. Monroe is hopeful that she will make a full recovery. “You’ve been standing by my painting for twenty minutes?” I ask sk eptically. “Y ep! Well, you took forever to get here.” I laugh as she hugs me and does the same to Lucas. He and Annabelle are close now, and she adores him almost as much as I do. Charlie approaches from behind her, handing us both a flute of champagne. “Come on, Amelia,” he says wearily. “Mom is not going to wait any longer to meet you. She’s been asking if you’ve arrived every ten minutes for the past hour.” I laugh, even as my nerves return tenfold and Charlie hooks his arm in mine, about to escort me over to his parents. I glance at Lucas fearfully. “Hold your horses, Charlie,” Lucas says firmly. “That’s my job.” Charlie seamlessly transfers his arm to Annabelle with a theatrical bow that makes her laugh and leads her through the room ahead of us.
Once they’re gone, Lucas st eps up beside me, taking my arm, and we walk through the other guests as I inhale de eply, trying to calm my hammering heartbeat. “You’re not really mad about the painting, are you?” he asks. “I know I can be high-handed about things sometimes. I’m just so proud of you.” I smile up at him, shaking my head. “Not mad, exactly. Just shocked. I didn’t expect it, and I don’t think it belongs in a place as fancy as this.” “It’s the best one. I’m not just saying that.” “Like I said, you're biased.” “I am. I love it, although it doesn’t really look like you. I hope that isn’t a rude thing to say.” “Not at all,” I concede. “I was thinking the same thing. I was very unhappy when I painted it.” He stops, pulling me round to face him. “But... you’re not unhappy anymore?” he asks, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy seeking validation. I laugh. “Of course not. Back then, I was working three jobs, my sister was dying, and I was alone. Now I get to paint all day, Annabelle is thriving, and I’m in love with the kindest man I’ve ever met.” His eyes darken with pleasure at that, and he bends down to kiss me. “I love you, Amelia. So much, I wonder how I deserve you sometimes.” He kisses me just as there’s a loud shout from behind us, and Lucas pulls away. “There she is!” I turn to see a very straight-laced man approaching us across the room, his face friendly but resigned. Behind him, a flowing, glittering fairy of a woman rushes toward me, her arms outstretched. “Is this her?” She shrieks. “The woman responsible for making my Lucas so happy!” The entire room falls silent as Lucas stiffens beside me. “Remember how much you love me,” he says urgently. “No takebacks, even if she embarrasses the hell out of both of us.” “Not a chance,” I say, taking his hand and tugging him forward to meet my future family. “We’re in this together.” Do you want to read the next book in the Sterling House series? Of course you do! Grab At His Service HERE. Or turn the page for a sneak peek.