It happened innocently enough. She was in his study dusting. The whole place a mess from all the boxes and books he was planning to go through. She was anxious to find some order in the chaos. When she was moving pile upon pile to other piles, a booklet fell and sprawled open. The narrow spine bent and pages crinkled slightly. When she picked it up she saw an image that was…well, it was inappropriate. She knew Lucien was a doctor and he had medical books of the human form but this was…. different…
She tucked it away in one of the boxes looking around to see if anyone saw her. And of course no one did. She was home alone. She shushed her mind and went about her duties.
Weeks later, the room organized, she went to straighten up and her curious mind wandered to that little old booklet.
Lucien was out on a case and wasn't expected back until dinner. She knew where he placed his stack of old books and past medical journals and wandered over sliding it out from between the others. As she leafed through the pages her eyes grew wide. The images weren't too graphic but as she read the words it made her wonder about the "illness" that was so common back then. So intrigued in her task she didn't hear the door open. When his voice questioned her name she startled with a yelp.
"Lucien!"
She clutched the pages to her chest and quickly placed it back on the shelf hopeful he wouldn't notice and tried to calm her breath.
"What are you doing?" He asked curious with a small smile.
"I was just….dusting."
Hoping her flamed cheeks and high pitched voice wouldn't give her away. She scooted past him with a strained smile and headed to the kitchen right to the sink to wash her hands and maybe the guilt that she felt from being caught. She could feel his presence behind her making her heart race.
"Your home early? Solve the case?" saying anything to draw his attention away from her snooping.
"What were you reading, Jean?"
It didn't work…
"Nothing," she took the towel with shaking hands drying them.
"Alright, what were you looking at?" His voice soft and low. She could feel his breath on her neck.
"One of your old medical booklets."
"Ah, so you're taking an interest in nineteenth century "hysterical paroxysm"?
He knew what she was reading!
When she said nothing, he continued… placing his hands on her shoulders.
"It wasn't practiced or taught in medical school being very…. outdated…" he whispered, rubbing the length of her arms.
"But the methods used can be quite…." his hands moved to her hips, "…exhilarating." he pressed her backside flush to his front. And she let out a little moan.
"I'd be happy to help you out in any…." his lips found her earlobe and nipped at it…."capacity."
Her strangled breath was her only reply.
"You know where to find me."
And then he was gone.