A/N: Many thanks to andallthatmishigas for the beta! And again this would not exist without A Green Dress by hazeleyes571, they gave me all the inspiration for this fic.
Damn the man. The one time she counted on him staying out at all hours to solve a case, he came home early. Of course, his unpredictability is what drew her ever closer to him in the first place. That and his complete lack of subtlety she found, at times, charming and a bit exciting in a town of staid politeness. She was having a fine time in Richard's company, he was fun and interesting. She had been enjoying his interest in her, the distraction he provided.
Until Lucien had shown up, being his unreliable, unsubtle self. She was sure he didn't notice that she had noticed how he had noticed her. His entirely readable face gawping at her rear end, and she had nearly come undone.
She should've put him in his place, should have hated his obvious and awakening interest in her. Only, the heat of his gaze ignited a fire in her belly. For the better part of two years, she had been overwhelmed by his presence in her life. How closely he drifted into her space. How easily he touched her, his hands thoughtlessly lingering at the small of her back.
She laundered his clothes, knew how large his shirts were, knew how well he filled them. Could imagine how his muscles stretched beneath them. She didn't have the benefit of forgetting that he was a man. As he had so obviously forgotten that she was, in fact, a woman.
Nobody else in town had forgotten that they were both eligible widows living under the same roof. Their tongues wagged, spreading whatever salacious story they could spin in their provincial boredom. The gossip might have quieted down in the last year or so but it was still there.
Even worse she knew in her secret heart of hearts, the heart that allowed herself to tumble with Christopher before they were married, that she yearned for those rumors to be true. She had prayed and confessed and tried to forget the man she worked for as she happily let herself be drawn in by Richard.
Infuriatingly Lucien remained oblivious, until tonight when she was on a date, being wooed by another man.
And now, she felt herself straining to make polite conversation as Richard lingered in the living room, her thoughts firmly with Lucien in the study. Finally, she heard his bedroom door close and used that as an excuse to have Richard leave, citing the lateness of the hour.
Once he was out the door, Jean lingered a moment in front of Lucien's bedroom door. Inside she heard him shuffling, unable to sleep. Was he still thinking about her, about the dress she wasn't wearing for him? Was he wondering if she would ever wear such a dress for him? Momentarily she thought she might knock on his door, hoping that he would beckon her inside.
She couldn't, she shouldn't, so she didn't.
Upstairs she readied herself for bed, imagining she could still feel his gaze tracking her figure, imagining what it would feel like if his hands and fingers replaced it. Thoughts of his eyes darkening in desire for her sent a shiver down her spine. Her skin was heated, and her nightgown collar felt restrictive on her neck. Before she could let herself be pulled under by temptation she opened the drawer on her bedside table.
She found her rosary, paid her penance, and said her prayers hoping it would bring sleep.