"Come here."
He leaned back in his chair and offered her his hand, eyes dark. The tone of his voice was clear, demanding, and Jean was hopeless to obey. She slipped her hand in his and went willingly as he tugged her into his lap, his arms circling her waist and keeping her close.
Jean liked direction, liked following what was expected of her, liked listening to him take control. His breath fell upon her face in gentle, warming gusts and she waited for the next command.
"Kiss me."
She tangled her fingers in his hair, sliding around to cup his jaw and drag her nails through his beard, loving the way it scraped against the sensitive pads of her fingers. He growled low in his throat and tightened his grip around her.
Ducking her head, she pressed her lips to his and sighed at the familiar taste of whiskey and mint. Lucien's mouth opened beneath her and she dipped her tongue between his lips, sweeping over his tongue briefly, before pulling away.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Any other orders, doctor?"
"Love me?"
It was a question this time, not an order, and Jean felt his fingers twist her engagement ring. How could he ever doubt that she loved him? Their road was uncertain, yes, but this was permanent. This was forever.
She pressed a kiss to his lips and buried her face in his neck, keeping herself wrapped in his arms where it was safe and neither the church nor the prying eyes of Ballarat could touch them.