1881 Hameau des Artistes -- Michaud Household

[The Exodus]

Username: Mrs Nadir Khan
Character name: Lucian Michaud, Ashton Greene
Character age: 47, 24
Desired apartment:

Used to large spaces, Lucian opted to buy as big a house allowed in the quieter area of Montramarte. It’s not a mansion, or anything, but the three level 1920’s art deco-style home does have four bedrooms (equipped with bathrooms), a kitchen, living room, terrace and garden. Lucian someday hopes to entertain in his Parisian escape, but until then plans on repurposing two of the bedrooms into an office area or media room.

www.paristay.com/1881-paris-luxury-house-for-rent-long-term-Hameau-des-Artistes.html

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

Upstairs, Ashton could hear Lucian moving about the bedroom. She heard him shuffling about, and Ashton sat still, hands resting on the piano keys until she heard the door close, positive they were alone.

"So!" Ashton said, once she heard the door click into place. "Should we get started?" But her student wasn't listening. She sat beside her on the piano bench, picking at a place on her shirt and smoothing out her hair. "Umm.... Vivienne?" Ashton asked again.

No response.

Ashton played a series of dissonant chords to grab her attention. Vivienne's head shot up, her eyes wide and startled. "Yes. Sorry. My mind was somewhere else..." The older woman said, her eyes glittering devilishly.

Ashton sighed. This kind of short attention span she would expect from her younger students, but not from her middle-aged and older ones.

"And where exactly was it?" Ashton asked, forcing her voice to remain level.

"Quite frankly," Vivienne said, glancing around and dropping her voice to a whisper. "Your father."

Ashton lifted an eyebrow, taken aback. "My father? Why on earth would you be thinking about my father?" Ashton could only imagine Henry Greene sleeping while the vocal and energetic Vivienne prattled on about her daughter, her job, and her three cats.

"He's so sweet and-- now I have to be honest-- pretty attractive. I didn't see a wedding band on his hand. Is it alright with you, even though I'm technically your student, if I invite him to drinks?" Vivienne said, tracing along the shape of the piano keys absently.

Ashton failed to fight off a barking laugh. No one, not even his co-workers wanted to take her father out for drinks (unless he was paying). He could be described as many things; smart, bitter, rich... But it was been nearly eight years since anyone had called him 'sweet' or 'attractive'. When Ashton's mother died, those words were considered passé when used in reference to Henry Greene. "Vivienne, 'sweet' and 'attractive' do not describe Henry Greene at all."

Ashton expected Vivienne to be laughing with her as she wiped a tear of humour from her hazel eyes, but Vivienne just stared blankly, her brown eyes blinking back at Ashton. "Who's Henry Greene?" she said at long last. "Who are you talking about?"

Ashton stopped abruptly. "Who am I-- Who are you talking about?"

"Lucian!" Vivienne said as if his name had been ticking away like a time bomb in her mouth. Ashton's insides turned. It wasn't her son that churned around this time-- she felt queasy.

"Lucian's not my father!" Ashton exclaimed, part-offended, part-disgusted, part-amused.

"He's not?" Ashton shook her head. "What is he then?"

"Lucian's my boyfriend. He and I are having a baby, a boy. And who do you think you are coming in here with a secret desire to ask him out?" Ashton could feel her blood surge in her. Lucian had warned her to not get mad-- something about it being bad for their baby. She took a deep breath and sat back down, not even realising she had stood up.

"Dear," Vivienne said in that patronising tone of hers, taking Ashton's hand in her own. "Isn't he a bit old for you?"

"Lucian's more than his age, Vivienne," Ashton said seriously. "He's generous and kind and his mind and soul amaze me more and more everyday. His flaws make him the most human man I know, but in a way, that makes me love him more. He's been willing to sacrifice so much for me and there's no one else in this world I would rather raise a family with than him. He's my boyfriend and I'm your teacher. Can we stop talking about how much you seem to just love Lucian and---" But Ashton stopped short when she felt a pair of eyes on her. She turned around to see him in the doorway. "Lucian!" He said with a jump. "Vivienne and I were just about to start warm-ups."

[The Exodus]

Lucian Michaud

Lucian couldn’t help but feel a little violated, every time Ashton had a student. It wasn’t that he begrudged her a job or friendships, or activities that didn’t include him. It was that every time a belligerent teenager or hyperactive six year old or retired and wispy looking old woman came to Ashton for a lesson, Lucian was shooed out of the living room or told he couldn’t bake cookies for the students or be otherwise distracting. He would marvel one minute at Ashton’s patience with her charges and curse her controlling nature to the high heavens the next during these hour long sessions. He worried that when Gregory—if they still called him that months from now—was born, Ashton wouldn’t let him have a hand in raising their son. She would do what she did now: push him into the bedroom, disappear for a while, and come back, proclaiming everything that needed to be taken care of done. Lucian had spent far too long at the end of his marriage being useless. And whether Ashton realized it or not, she was making him feel just as impotent in different ways.

And that just simply wouldn’t do.

Ashton was a better woman than Natalie by far. Ashton was sweet, well-meaning, and just a little overzealous. She surely didn’t mean to make Lucian feel like an imposition in his own home. And while he could very easily, very sweetly take her aside after this lesson with Vivienne What’s-Her-Name, Lucian decided that he had a better idea. He’d be quiet, but he wouldn’t stay wherever Ashton stuck him. He would just go about his business. As per usual. And Ashton would realize, by the end of her lesson, that Lucian was less of a distraction than she thought.

After all, it was a big house.

Lucian slid out of his shoes and went into the kitchen. He hadn’t much to do, but the “Daddy Boot-camp” class he’d been taking on Thursdays had recommended he brush up on household skills, like cooking and fixing things around the house. And, somehow, Lucian didn’t think Ashton would approve of his “cooking”, which involved a lot of saturated fats and red meats. He made it a goal to surprise Ashton with lunch by the end of this lesson. Something impossibly healthy and green that she would coo over and love and that would earn Lucian some extra points for being a decent boyfriend. No fish, though. But, as Lucian looked through the refrigerator, he was strapped for meal ideas. He had yet to grasp the nuances of a vegetarian (or pescatarian, rather) diet and knew only that Ashton usually poked at his version of veg-sagna as though it really ought to be disposed of by a Haz-Mat crew.

That’s what the internet’s for, Lucian thought with a grimace. I can always look up a recipe.

Damien and Ashton both were pulling Lucian into a tech-savvy world, much to his chagrin. And though he’d never gotten the hang of social networking sites or seen the appeal of the Facebook account Ashton made him, Lucian did love online recipes. He searched for his laptop for a few minutes, but then he remembered: he’d left it on the coffee table in the living room. Even the stealthiest secret agent would have had to take extra caution not to disturb Ashton’s lesson. But, the way Lucian saw it, if he simply went in, got the laptop, and left, Ashton could not possibly get angry at him. He would retire to the kitchen immediately, and then—if by the mysterious forces of pregnancy hormones—she was still mad at him, Lucian was not above placating her with food.

He crept to the living room, mid-lecture, and hoped Ashton wouldn’t notice him. He made his way to the coffee table, plucked up his laptop and turned to go. But part of Ashton’s diatribe caught his ear.

“-- And there's no one else in this world I would rather raise a family with than him. He's my boyfriend and I'm your teacher. Can we stop talking about how much you seem to just love Lucian and---"

Lucian, who had been standing frozen, eavesdropping, was suddenly very aware of Ashton’s eyes on him. And possibly the student’s. He drummed on his laptop awkwardly.

"Lucian!" Ashton said, jumping a little. "Vivienne and I were just about to start warm-ups."

“Erm… Yes,” Lucian said, forcing a smile to his face. He looked from his girlfriend to the woman who, apparently, was infatuated with him. About his age, she might have been handsome, save the blotchy blush on her features and the shockingly hungry look in her brown eyes. Lucian felt his skin crawl, but he didn’t shudder. A year ago, he would have been flattered by the attention. Now, he finally understood why Ashton relegated him to anywhere but the living room during her lessons. “I was just… getting my laptop.”

He looked back at Ashton and smiled at her.

“I’ll be making lunch if you need me, darling.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

As awkward as the moment was, there was something comforting about Lucian being there. It was calming, his presence was. She wanted him to come over and place a tender hand on her shoulder while she played like he always did, but instead, he stood there drumming away at his laptop, intensifying and thickening the shroud of air that engulfed them in the odd, stifling moment.

“Erm… Yes.” That was all he had to say? Ashton wasn't sure just how long he had been standing there, but surely he had to of heard something of intrigue. How about that Vivienne got all hot and bothered when Lucian walked into the room-- a right relinquished by Natalie and now in the sole possession of Ashton? How about that Ashton just told an almost-stranger what she loved about Lucian-- albeit not everything; some things were meant to stay private. Ashton let out an audible sigh.

“I was just… getting my laptop.” Lucian said, indicating to the little silvery box and black cords under his arm.

Ashton nodded with a soft, delicate smile.

“I’ll be making lunch if you need me, darling.”

"That's fine. Give me an hour for my session and I'll join you." Ashton turned back around and a thought went through her mind. This was Vivienne's fifth lesson. She had just started piano. She still clunked away at the ivory keys as if she was playing whack-a-mole and still read music as if it written backwards in archaic German. Ashton smirked at the thought of Lucian's self-proclaimed biggest fan struggling through a simple book in an attempt to look good for Lucian, but falling about a mile short with Lucian sitting right there, looking on.

"Or rather, if you'd like to sit in, darling, that'd be fine, too. You have a musical ear, after all, and fresh view would be very much appreciated. Is that okay with you, Vivienne?"

Vivienne gulped from behind a book of beginners' warm-ups, but nodded nonetheless.

"See? It's not a problem."

[The Exodus]

Lucian Michaud

There was nothing Lucian wanted more than to sneak back into the kitchen and stay there, cooking for the next hour or so. He didn’t want to be scrutinized by two women—one of whom he loved and the other whom he barely knew. He didn’t want either of them to know just how much he’d heard or that he was both flattered and perturbed by their exchange. If he had the ability to disappear at will, he would have done it already.

"That's fine. Give me an hour for my session and I'll join you." Ashton turned back around.

Lucian, too, turned to go, but just as he reached the door, Ashton seemed to have a moment of small, lightning-bolt inspiration.

"Or rather, if you'd like to sit in, darling, that'd be fine, too,” Ashton offered. “You have a musical ear, after all, and fresh view would be very much appreciated. Is that okay with you, Vivienne?"

The woman nodded from behind her music and Ashton smiled.


"See? It's not a problem."

Lucian couldn’t help but feel a little set up. He was sure if he declined, Ashton would be irritated. But if he agreed to sit in, chances were, he’d upset Ashton by “distracting” her student or giving his input and “undermining” her authority. He bit his lip.

“… If you insist,” he said, plastering a wary smile to his lips. He put the laptop down on the coffee table and plucked up a dining chair from the across the room. It hit the ground with a “thunk” and Lucian sat down just behind Ashton and her student. “Though, I must admit… It’s been years since I’ve played piano, so my ear might be a tad out of tune.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

Ashton's lips flickered evilly at, her lips pulling into a teasing little grin and she made eye contact with Lucian, just waiting, pleading for him to pick up the subtle hints she was propelling like miniature bombs in his direction. She was just waiting for him to sense that the woman beside her on the bench deserved to be embarrassed after making a pass at him in the moments she thought he was Ashton's father. So Vivienne would play and Lucian would listen, hearing specifically her flaws that would clunk out loudly on ivory.

“… If you insist. Though, I must admit… It’s been years since I’ve played piano, so my ear might be a tad out of tune.”

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine, love," Ashton said reassuringly. "Now. Onward." Ashton plucked the book from Vivienne's shaking hand to uncover her mortified face. Vivienne glanced at Lucian quickly before turning back around to face the piano. Ashton thumbed through the book peacefully, humming a long to a mindless tune she improvised.

"Time for progression!" Ashton said in a sing-gong voice, creasing the book spine and laying it gingerly on the music stand. "How about a new chord today? Want to give A-sharp Minor a go?"

Vivienne's eyes grew wide at the sight of the seven pound signs that polluted each line.

"How about you put your foot on the middle pedal this time?" Ashton suggested sweetly. It was kind of her, really. The softer sounds from the piano would not only soften the blow to Vivienne's ego having to not play so loud, but it would lessen the chances of Lucian and herself getting pounding headaches. Vivienne could thank her, really.

Vivienne nodded in silent, nervous compliance and put her hands on the keys as her eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Ashton listened to each poorly played note and cringed inwardly, but smiled on, ready to offer easy guidance and back-handed compliments.

The two women looked to Lucian once the last, awkwardly played note rang out. "Thoughts?"

[The Exodus]

Lucian Michaud

The plodding, clumsy, and cacophonous sound coming from the piano could not be described as music. If Lucian had to give it a name, he supposed it would be what a pair of melancholy and klutzy elephants would sound like. Either his ear was very rusty, or Vivienne’s playing was very, very bad. And the thing of it was, Lucian knew Ashton had to have known—or at least guessed—what the piano would sound like under her student’s less-than-deft fingers. It was a very wicked, cruel, and oddly amusing thing to have done. Lucian said nothing, sat in utter silence and stared beyond both women. But it didn’t matter how Lucian averted his gaze, two pairs of eager eyes followed him everywhere.

"Thoughts?" Ashton asked.

Lucian had been afraid of that. Insult the woman and she’d run from the house in tears and Ashton would have gotten away with humiliating a student; something so wrong, regardless of her student’s age, that Lucian couldn’t let her do it. But if he was even remotely nice, the woman could misinterpret and make things awkward for Lucian and Ashton both; she’d get away with trying to be a home-wrecker which was as vile, if not more so, than willfully shaming someone.

“I don’t think I’ve heard—what was that?—A sharp minor played quite like that before,” he confessed neutrally as possible. “I’m no expert. Honestly, Ashton’s opinion is the one I’d listen to if I were you, Vivienne.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

Lucian shifted slightly and Ashton felt disheartened, ashamed for putting him on the spot. She glanced at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand inch slowly closer to lunchtime. That was what she needed, a nice, quiet lunch with Lucian; just them together, celebrating in a simple way their very existences as people, as a couple, as soon-to-be parents. No dissonant piano classes, no vineyards, no distractions...

And then Ashton's eyes flicked to Vivienne, who's own eyes threatened a spill-over of tears. What was intended to be a subtle warning had come off as a catty attack, in which Ashton realised she was about as subtle as nuclear warfare. She had caused another person, her own student, a painful blow of embarrassment. Ashton's eyes softened. That wasn't the intent. And just like several times before, Ashton had found a way to make a bad situation worse.

“I don’t think I’ve heard—what was that?—A sharp minor played quite like that before."

Ashton was amazed that through the headache that emenated from the ivory keys and malettes, that Lucian was so polite, so kind, so comforting. It was everything Ashton had hoped to be bu fell short at when it came to offensive strangers.

A ghost of a smile found it's way onto Ashton's face as Lucian spoke again.

“I’m no expert. Honestly, Ashton’s opinion is the one I’d listen to if I were you, Vivienne."

If Ashton were Vivienne, she wouldn't of wanted to listen to her. She would have stormed out by now, embarrassed. Either Vivienne was too petrifed to move, really wanted an excuse to look at Lucian, or really wanted to learn piano.

"It was fine," Ashton lied kindly. "It was a wonderful first try. I'll walk you through it this time and then we can start on what the song we've been working on."

Ashton gave one last soft smile at Lucian before slowly guiding Vivienne through each note, explaining calmly the mechanics of why each note was played there.

When the scales, slow, but smooth were completed, Ashton nodded with approval. "Great job! When you go home today, practice that, just how I showed you, and you'll have no problems. If you can do A sharp Minor, you can do any scale." Ashton said reassuringly, looking Vivienne in the eyes, dry now and gleaming with hope. Ashton felt vicarious pride, she felt better. And she oddly had Lucian and his inadvetent, silent lesson to thank for it.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

"Ouch!" Ashton let out a soft shriek as she flicked the lighter. The flame licked the wick of the candle and the skin of her finger. She wet the tip of it with her tongue before moving onto to the next candle.

It was Sunday night and Lucian would be home any moment now. The day had been long and dull without him there, and Burgundy was a goof three and a half hours away.

The tenth and last candle flicked to life and Ashton turned the bathtub faucet to a squeaking stop. The water was lukewarm beneath a veneer of bubbles and Ashton jumped excitedly inside her robe at every sound. Any car outside could be Lucian pulling that two person eyesore of a jaguar into their driveway. Any footfall outside could be Lucian coming through the door. Ashton closed the window to block out the teasing sounds of other people's lives.

The only thing missing form this picture, save from Lucian was wine. He had spent all day at a brewery-- it would just be cruel to offer him a Chardonnay, and water would be redundant. So on the edge of the tub sat two cups of coffee, one for each of them. In Ashton's hand, she fidgeted with a fuchsia Post-It note, the one they had missed in their mapped out love-making spree. She was saving for a moment just like this. A smile lit up her eyes, and a kiss played peek-a-boo in the right corner of her lips.

The door down stairs opened and Ashton's heart ticked madly, keeping fast track of the seconds it took Lucian to find her.

[The Exodus]

Lucian Michaud

Stiffness radiated through Lucian’s whole being. He had gained, in the last several hours, a newfound respect for the tour guides at Chateau Michaud. They’d been understaffed over the weekend and between meetings, Lucian had served as a spare guide, rattling off what history of the building and company he could recall, explaining the vinification process, and asking mothers who had—for reason’s God only knew—brought their children along to please not give samples to minors. He had to answer questions about how much a “place like this would cost” from one American gentleman, whose too-bright amber eyes took in the whole of Lucian’s family home with far too much interest. He had to answer questions like, “Can you get drunk from eating too many grapes?” from a college-aged girl, with an almost painful-sounding Cockney accent. He had to resist the urge to argue when one elderly German man announced loudly that winemakers were pansies compared to beer brewers. He even had to help a panicked mother find her eight year old son, who had found the one unlocked door leading into the Michaud private quarters so he could play “explorer” in Lucian’s weekend home. Small business was like this, someone had once told him. If you are committed to owning one, you have to be prepared to assume any role given you. You couldn’t walk around like some stuffed popinjay, bragging about your stockholdings this and your profits that.

In fact, the day had been so hectic and rotten that—if he didn’t think Ashton would be waiting up for him—Lucian would have just curled up in his bed in Burgundy and gone home in the morning. But instead, he nestled in the driver’s seat of his Jaguar and sped home. Until he hit Paris, all the speed limit signs were mere suggestions. And even still, once in the city, Lucian drove just as fast as he could. By the time he parked the car and climbed the steps and unlocked the door, Lucian was beyond ready to be home with Ashton. Of course, in typical Ashton fashion, she was playing hide-and-seek somewhere in the house, waiting for Lucian to scout her out. She’d been doing this kind of things for months now, since that day he came home to find her in nothing but ballet slippers. She’d stake out somewhere in their house, careful not to repeat location—or at least set up—until everything was tried. And then Lucian would find her, wherever she hid.

He eventually found her in the master bathroom, draped in a bathrobe, amidst half a dozen candles. Lucian smiled, first at her and then at the filled tub behind her. It may have seemed every inch a cliché, but Lucian’s tired muscles were groaning in happy appreciation.

“You’re wonderful,” he told Ashton, pulling her to him for a kiss. “Absolutely brilliant.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

“You’re wonderful. Absolutely brilliant.”

Ashton smiled into Lucian's kiss, her hand sliding to his front belt loops, her baby bump fitting gently into place between them. As he wrapped his arms around her, she could feel the tightness in his shoulders, and as he kissed her, she could feel the clenched muscles in his jaw. Something had made his day stressful, and suddenly, what had been a romantic gesture became a labour of love, an act done to make him more comfortable.

After a struggle with the buckle, she finally slipped the troublesome belt off and she rose herself up to place a kiss on Lucian's nose. "And you're tense," she said her lips forming a soft pout.

With the belt gone, in a brown, lifeless coil at their feet, Ashton slid her hand beneath Lucian's waist line. "So come out of your tent," Ashton, well acquainted with the route, said, searching for that one certain landmark. "And relax," she said, arriving at her destination. The put the pink sticky note between her teeth, her other hand tugging teasingly that the khaki fabric of his pants.

Whatever was bothering Lucian could wait. Ashton would help him let it roll off his back, and whatever hadn't drained with the bathwater they would discuss until it became so small and inconsequential that Lucian's smile came naturally.

She looked up into his soft blue eyes, reading the lines that formed beneath them from today's work. Even with those lines, she loved his face. It didn't matter how well she knew it, she was always discovering something fascinating and new hidden in every laugh or frown line. It intrigued her and thrilled her to know that she would wake up to that face every day for the rest of her life.

She smiled up at him, her eyes laughing above her come-hither grin.

[The Exodus]

Lucian Michaud

It wasn’t long until Lucian and Ashton were nestled together in the tub, covered by a thick, white blanket of bubbles. The warm water served as a masseuse, lapping at Lucian’s sore back and hips as he sunk below the water behind Ashton. He reached for her shoulders and rubbed slowly, kneading them as though they were dough. She was knotted up too, though from different strains than Lucian. While work took its toll on his body, Ashton’s was being stressed and challenged by their growing baby. Sometimes, because she was taking other facets of the pregnancy so well, Lucian forgot to realize what this was costing Ashton. Her body was changing; for the better, if you asked him. She was softer than before, less angular. And though she would later be rubbing cocoa butter on her stomach, furiously doing away with stretch marks, every subtle shift in her appearance was a marker of their life together. She was still beautiful—still attractive—but there was something that made Lucian feel something new about her. His stomach went to liquid, fiery and desirous as before, but sweeter. Less possessive, more protective. He couldn’t explain it, so, instead, he worked on a knot at the base of Ashton’s skull.

“Tell me about your day,” he said. “What did you do with your Sunday?”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

Ashton moaned happily as Lucian worked at untying the sailor knots in her backs. She really ought to have been the one rubbing out the kinks in his shoulder-- he worked all day today and all she did was menial tasks to keep her entertained. But the way his fingers rubbed away at places she hadn't noticed were sore made her give in to the pampering. She hadn't forgotten she was pregnant, but the muscle aches were so similar to those from dancing, so this soreness from her body in a constant state of shift had hardly registered to her. The hardened places melted away at Lucian's touch and gave another soft moan of contentedness.

“Tell me about your day; what did you do with your Sunday?"

Ashton laughed. "This," she motioned around them. "I did this. And baked a cake. Can't of been nearly as exciting as your day. So tell me about it."

[The Exodus]

Lucian Michaud

Ashton sighed against him, her happiness as warm as the bathwater and as relaxing. Lucian smiled when she laughed at his question. He’d missed moments like this. They’d been so caught up in forcing normal that this unprompted night in reminded Lucian what it was he loved about Ashton. It wasn’t like their dinner out the other night, hallmarked by clever conversation and hawk-eyed watching. Nor was it like the days of shopping for the baby, piling carts full of dizzyingly bright baubles to engage their son’s mind. Tonight could have been cut from the time-stream and pasted it before Ashton’s pregnancy, before Lucian’s failed proposals, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place. It struck Lucian, suddenly, that he didn’t have the ring on him the one time proposing felt like it would be best received. Instead of asking Ashton what she was doing for the rest of Lucian’s life, he asked what she’d done all day.

"This," she motioned around them. "I did this. And baked a cake. Can't of been nearly as exciting as your day. So tell me about it."

Lucian laughed and rested his cheek against the crown of Ashton’s head.

“I had to give tours of the vineyards,” he said, amused lilt still in his voice. “It astonishes me that people even pay for that sort of thing.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Ashton Greene

Ashton always thought that the quiet nights in were the nights when she could truly share the inner workings of Lucian's mind, when they could get to know each other even more deeply than they already did, exploring more and more of each other's soul, revealing to each other little pieces of themselves, little hidden layers that they would a spend a lifetime wandering over and rejoicing in. And Ashton thought she'd miss these nights.

But they weren't going anywhere. And the hectic days of finger painting and potty training that were just around the bend would continue to reveal more and more sides of them as individuals and as a couple. Because no matter how well she knew Lucian, she would never be able to soak in enough, she would never be done discovering.

Lucian rested his head on hers and Ashton smiled in to the pressure. “I had to give tours of the vineyards,” he said, amused lilt still in his voice. “It astonishes me that people even pay for that sort of thing.”

Ashton shrugged. "I don't know. I'd personally love a tour." Ashton's high and sweet voice dropped a few decibels, her voice low in her throat, a soft, sultry sound escaping her lips. "Not so much of the vineyards, but a tour of the vineyard's owner would be lovely."

Ashton leaned into Lucian some more, absently tracing a spot on his inner thigh with her finger beneath the thinning layer of bubbles. "Do you think you can arrange that, or have you given enough tours for today?"