The Don, the Lover

Proserpina

In the silence that folowed, I realized that Lisa was staring at the doorway, a look of confusion on her pretty face. I whirled around as best as I could, rolling over on my stomach, and felt my head whirl.

Lucien stood there in the doorway, his face cold and hard like stone.

How much had he heard?

His suit was crumpled and his shirt, pristine white as ever, unbuttoned to his waist. I crinkled my nose and thought that he still looked so hot.

But his eyes were like cold chips of steel, holding me fixed to the floor. My shirt had ridden up to my upper thighs and I was distantly aware that I had nothing underneath it.

But I simply could not care.

*

How long had he been standing there?

I could not be bothered.

Lifting my glass, I sang out tipsily, scrubbing off the errant tears,

‘Well, look who’s come to visit us! Is it our lucky day or what?’

Melissa giggled, and then both of us rolled on the floor, laughing hysterically. Dimly, I thought I heard the voice of Tristan Lord as h