Chương 9: Chapter 9

Small talk. Who the hell invented this idea?

If Lucas was good at one thing, it was shutting down small talk. He'd thought about it as Ian attempted to converse with him.

'What do you think of the weather? These flowers are beautiful, aren't they? Where'd you get that tie?'

He looked to his right where Asher was making excellent conversation with a few girls. He was always great at that. Too good that he needed some knocking at his teeth once in a while.

John jumped in between Ian and Lucas occasionally, trying to help his friend when the aloof Young Master only gave short testy answers. The dreadful transition between topics was unbearable and Ian really tried hard, but there was absolutely nothing they had in common. John knew a little more about Lucas so at least he did more than a hit-and-miss. And then all of a sudden, everyone went silent.

Lucas sensed they were staring at something behind him, so he turned around.

Abigail stepped out of the Manor in a beautiful dress of shiny sky blue. The dress hugged her frail shoulders tightly, wrapped around her tiny waist, and blossomed at her hips. Two slender legs revealed themselves from underneath the dress looking straight and smooth.

He felt all the eyes of every man on her and she was starting to feel uncomfortable. And if he wanted to, he would accompany each of them with a black eye, but this wasn't the place or time.

He saw her. Scanning each of them for someone to rescue her. But as she got to him, he couldn't help but clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, and watched as she cowered a step back.

This was the first time he had seen her in a formal dress and he was angry to share it with so many eager bastards. Abigail was really coming out as the woman that she was. She was only fifteen when he left the Manor and during those times, his father had allowed her to attend events where hundreds of lewd men would've looked at her the same way he's looking at her right now.

The brother finally came to her rescue. He gave her a warm hug, knowing that it would block his sister from the views of the predators. He'd probably whispered something into her ears as well because when he pulled away, she was left smiling.

She locked arms with her brother. Most of the guests had already arrived. Colleagues and professors approached one by one to shake hands and congratulate John. Distant relatives also took their turns before leaving to enjoy delicacies. The guest list was less than a hundred. It wasn't a Barrington wedding, after all. Only a Campbell's.

Abigail soon made herself scarce as she left to attend to her matters.

Lucas didn't dare look in her direction other than when she arrived. He was afraid he would corner her in a room somewhere and let his hands ride up that short skirt of hers. It took everything in him to pretend she was invisible.

A maid with alcoholic drinks finally walked passed and he took a glass off the tray, chugged it down in one gulp, then grabbed another for pacing and waved the maid away.

"Sex and alcohol, huh?"

Lucas rolled his eyes before he saw the person. The first black eye would go to Asher.

"A part of me thought you were talking about yourself, and what do you know."

Asher was never clean in his dress suits. They were either rolled up at the sleeves, jacket flourished back, or no jacket at all. He was never the type to wear formal but his field had required him to.

"You saw her too, right?" Asher added and took a sip of his wine. "And all those men looking at her. I can't help but feel jealous of the lucky bastard who gets her in the end. What is she? A maid?"

He didn't see Lucas's upper lip peel up in slight anger. No one should address her as a maid. Ever.

But instead of answering, he gulped down some champagne and made a confirming noise from deep in his throat.

"Much too beautiful to be a maid if you ask me. Will you be holding her wedding too?"

The wine glass in Lucas's hand broke with a loud crack. His fingers had broken through the structure and the shards now crumbled in his palm. Luckily, he had finished the liquid and saved himself from ruining his sleeves.

Butler Henry was nearby and quickly came to tend to the Young Master, making sure he hadn't cut himself. The glasses were quickly swept and Lucas was left with only minor scratches.

Asher could not believe what he saw and had no clue that Lucas was ridiculously offended. Hold her wedding? The fuck is he talking about? Abigail had belonged to him ever since she was born and he even took extra measures to make that happen. The idea was just too ludicrous, even for him.

"I take it you're still mad about Kenworth?" Asher exclaimed.

Lucas grunted. He was glad the private investigator couldn't read his personal life.

"They won't see me to it. Only my father's signature would work but he won't allow me. A risky investment, he said."

They continued to chat a bit more about other relations and found their way to the open bar for stronger drinks. A few more hours went by and Lucas didn't see Abigail again until the ceremony was about to begin. He was summoned from the bar and saw her in the hallway. She had a hand on the wall with her back towards him. Her head was lowered and she was fidgeting with her heels.

He halted, unable to look away as his vision rose from her feet up to her legs. The back of the dress was slightly longer than the front so he could only see a part of her thighs. A lustful desire burned at his loins. The last thing he needed to see was those legs. His fingers tingled as he fisted and unfisted. Before he knew it, he had brought himself to be right behind her.

At this range, he could smell her: flowers and perfumes. He imagined tracing the tip of his nose along her neck, breathing her in, tasting her skin, and ravishing her mouth. His hands touching her in places no man had ever seen before.

God dammit!

Lucas pivoted and strode out of the hallway in frustrated stomps. He blamed the alcohol for his forbidden thoughts. If he stayed any longer, he'd have to sabotage her.

The wedding ceremony was a blur to him. Not because he was drunk but because he could not stop his imagination. Cursed him! The things he would do to her, opening her eyes to the pleasures of men.

Calm down, Lucas. He had to make it out of this trip without touching her, but she was making it difficult.

The vows were said and the rings exchanged. He only peered up once to verify and then off again. This time, he was gnawing on her shoulders with a hand on her waist. The depths of his imagination had soared like crazy. There was no way he could bring himself to see her for the rest of the day.

Once the ceremony was over, he stayed around to socialize just enough to make his father happy, then joined Asher by the bar again. Two whiskeys in and he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Lucas turned around to a spicy hot woman in dark seducing hair. She was obviously wearing some kind of push-up bra because breasts weren't created like that. Her pink dress looked familiar and that was when he recognized she was the bridesmaid.

"I'm Susan." She held out a hand with purple nails.

Susan had some sort of contacts that made the iris of her eyes even more captivating. She had curves in all the right places and, judging from her boldness, probably the personality of an obnoxiously entitled wench. The exact type of girl Lucas would bring to his bed once in a while.

He didn't answer her nor did he take her hand. Instead, he held eye contact and got off his stool, towering over her with merely an inch between them. Her large bosom scraped his chest. His head was lowered and he brought his face so close their noses were practically touching.

The woman was now breathing rapidly. She had never expected to capture the one and only Lucas Barrington so fast. He was even more handsome and masculine than the rumors suggested.

As experienced as she was, Lucas still had a way of surprising them with the most unexpected. She was basically smiling from ear to ear at this point.

Their lips would've touched but he changed direction and went to her ear instead.

"Don't get me wrong. If I were to sleep with someone, it's gonna be a person she will never get to meet."

He pulled away just in time to see the confusion in her eyes. He waved at Asher to take care of the situation and left the girl with a gaping mouth at the counter of the bar. He didn't see her as she broke free from his friend and followed him until they were by the hallway where he saw Abigail earlier.

"Let me get this straight." She came in front of him. "You think I'm coming off strong and I get it. I just thought eventually we'll get to know each other, so why not do it now?"

He saw the desperation in her eyes and it ticked him off. Women throw themselves at him all the time and it was always annoying. He liked a little challenge. He liked a little mystery. Not some overconfident hussy who thinks his bed is available at the lowest effort.

He didn't answer her. Waiting to see what she'll do if he doesn't engage.

"I can see it in your eyes that you want me too."

She brazenly came up close and grabbed his tie.

"Do you?" He challenged. A tiny smile appeared on his lips at the absurdity of her assumption.

The intensity of her eyes showed that she wanted him the minute she laid eyes on him. She was fierce and will be candid about it.

"Um…" A soft voice came from behind Susan.

Lucas looked up to see his small savior in a curious but shocked face.

"It's picture time," Abigail stated. "John wants you two the by the garden."

She picked at her nails and turned to leave before either of them could say anything to her. The scene was already embarrassing enough that she walked into and she wanted nothing to do with it.

Susan and Lucas arrived together just right after Abigail. The wedded couple didn't know what to think about this and decided to let it pass. Claire knew her friend well and John could care less about either of them.

His father, the Head Butler, and Ian were already there as well as Claire's parents.

A beautiful arch of flowers with a backdrop of white roses was the background for the pictures. Lucas smiled to himself at how accomplished Abigail was. It was something he could never disclose to her or anyone else.

The first round was the groom and bride, then with the best man and bridesmaid, then with the families.

If Lucas had one weakness, it would be patience. He had very little patience for anything if not for pictures he gave no shits about. Why did they call him so early if his pictures were last? The photographer had to take a handful, then Abigail would go through each session and choose the best one for printing. Each session meaning poses.

God, it was unbearable for Lucas to watch all of that.

Finally, he was called to position. John and Claire were in the middle and they were told to huddle around them. Abigail was next to John, their Father behind her, Lucas was next to Abigail, and his old man at the end. Claire had her mother next to her and her father at the other end.

There were too many of them so the photographer gestured for them to get closer. Lucas pressed his chest against Abigail. Her head reached his shoulders. A pure girl with the ability to satisfy all his needs and desires, only if she knew.

He could not take his eyes off of her, especially how close he was to her now. He heard the camera shutters go off a few times. His eyes continued to remain on her. The lighting flashed again. Finally, he looked at the camera for the last picture.

The photographer gave a thumbs up like how he had been doing at the end of each session and Abigail would jog up to him. She took the camera in her hands. This time when she looked through the photos, the smile on her face disappeared.

He waited for the moment when she bat her lashes and looked up from the camera, straight into his icy blue eyes. He was still looking at her exactly like in the pictures.