Chapter 115

Serena's POV

"You said the only person who ever cared about you was your mother," he spoke quietly, his voice carrying that distinctive tone that always seemed to reach straight into my chest. "That's not accurate."

I tilted my head, confused. "What do you mean?"

"There's me." The simplicity of his statement caught me off guard, delivered with such matter-of-fact certainty that I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"You really never miss a chance, do you?" I meant it to sound teasing, but my voice came out softer than intended. Lucas had a way of doing that - turning my defenses into gentle surrenders without even trying.

He moved closer, guiding my head to rest against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his shirt, and I found myself relaxing despite my usual guardedness. "Your mother came to me in a dream," he said, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness I rarely heard. "She asked me to take care of you in her place."

The ridiculous statement should have made me roll my eyes. Instead, I felt something crack inside my chest - a wall I'd built so carefully, developing its first significant fissure. Trust Lucas to break through my defenses with such an absurd, sweet lie.

"Lucas..." I kept my eyes fixed on the shadows playing across the floor. "I need some time."

His hand found my shoulder, steady and warm. "You have all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. Then, because he was still Lucas Harrington, he had to ruin it.

"It's getting late," he murmured, his voice taking on a playful edge. "Should we go to bed?"

My entire body tensed, and I jerked away from him, feeling my face flush hot. His quiet chuckle only made it worse.

"While I'm aware my looks could be considered very attractive," he said, his voice rich with amusement, "I won't compromise my principles without a legal commitment."

"You're impossible," I muttered, but couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. Trust Lucas to diffuse tension with his particular brand of dry humor.

"Of course," he continued, his voice taking on an exaggerated tone of helplessness, "you knows I'm physically weak. If you were to use force..." He paused deliberately, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I wouldn't be able to resist." He seemed to take far too much pleasure in my flustered state.

"Your room is on the second floor," he said, his voice returning to its usual calm timbre. "I'll be staying on the first floor." Then, because he apparently couldn't help himself, he added, "By the way, the hotel staff helped change your clothes earlier. Please don't sully my reputation."

I wanted to roll my eyes at his talk of protecting his virtue, but something in his careful consideration touched me. Even in jest, he was always conscious of my comfort and boundaries.

"Get some rest, Serena. I'll see you in the morning." he said softly.

As I watched him leave, I realized that maybe my mother wasn't the only one who had ever truly cared for me. Maybe she had sent someone else to make sure I wouldn't be alone - even if he did have the worst timing with his jokes.

The next morning, I woke to brilliant sunshine streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. My phone showed only one message - from Eleanor. The silence from everyone else was telling, but surprisingly peaceful.

I stepped onto the balcony, letting the sea breeze wash over me. The view was breathtaking - crystal clear waters stretching to the horizon, waves catching the morning light like scattered diamonds.

A movement below caught my eye. I looked down at the private pool and felt my breath catch in my throat. Lucas was swimming laps, his powerful strokes cutting cleanly through the water. As he reached the pool's edge and pulled himself up, I couldn't help but stare. Water cascaded down his sculpted chest, his usually perfect hair falling carelessly across his forehead. The sight of his lean muscles and sharp jawline made my heart skip a beat.

I quickly turned away, pressing my suddenly warm cheeks against the cool morning air.

Lucas's voice drifted up from the pool below. "Want to swim?"

"No." The refusal came automatically, even as I remembered how graceful he had looked cutting through the water moments ago.

"Can't swim?"

"That's not it." I crossed my arms, trying to maintain some semblance of resistance.

"I'll wait." His tone held that familiar quiet certainty that told me the matter was already decided.

I found myself analyzing my own reaction - how easily I yielded to his suggestions when they didn't conflict with my principles. It was both frustrating and fascinating how this man, with his hundreds of careful calculations, always seemed to know exactly how far he could push.

After changing into the leopard-print swimsuit, I wrapped myself tightly in the plush robe. The glass staircase leading to the pool felt unnecessarily exposed, though I knew the area was completely private. Lucas was waiting by the water's edge, still managing to look impossibly elegant despite being half-dressed.

"Like what you see?" he asked, noticing my lingering gaze.

"Not particularly." I forced myself to sound dismissive, though the morning light highlighting the planes of his chest made that increasingly difficult.

"Lying to yourself again." His smile held that knowing edge that always made me want to prove him wrong.

Perhaps that's what prompted my next ill-advised comment. "Have you forgotten how I threw up in your hospital room?"

The shift in his expression was immediate - playfulness vanishing into something darker. Before I could process the change, his hand closed around my wrist, and the world tilted. A startled gasp escaped me as I hit the water, the shock of cold momentarily overwhelming my senses.

When I surfaced, sputtering and disoriented, my first coherent thought was the realization that I had, once again, underestimated Lucas's capacity for surprise.