Please, God. Let me seduce him!
The door jerked open and the first thing Genevieve saw were her guards, standing in a bunch in the corridor outside. But that was normal. Still, she was vastly disappointed not to see Lucifer right away, thinking the man hadn’t bothered to come. He must have sent someone else in his stead. But the moment she opened her mouth to question the guards, a larger figure suddenly filled her field of vision and she found herself looking up at Lucifer himself.
Disappointment turned to surprise, and surprise to pleasure. So, he had come. But that pleasure she felt wasn’t mere contentment that the man had complied with her summons – it was pleasure in the fact that he was simply here. His face had a shadow of stubble on it, but that only served to enhance his comely looks. Genevieve couldn’t help herself; like a fool, she smiled. It was purely a reflex.
“Thank you for coming,” she said politely. “I hope it was not an inconvenience.”
Lucifer found himself gazing down at a woman of astonishing beauty. The yellow gown she was wearing was striking with her coloring. In truth, she looked like the finest lady in the finest court, except for the fact that she wasn’t wearing any jewels. But she didn’t need any. The woman was shining like the sun.
“It was not,” he said. “I was seeing to mundane tasks when I received your request.”
That was a lie. He was seeing to the inventory of the booty they’d brought in the day before, going over the most valuable pieces with Remy and Felix. Curtiz, oddly, was nowhere to be found at daybreak, but Lucifer didn’t give the man much thought. Perhaps he’d found a woman for the night and was holed up somewhere. It wouldn’t have been unusual. Therefore, he’d gone over the inventory himself, pulling out some of the more precious pieces for his own coffers. Since he was the one to have intercepted the merchant vessel, it was his right. He was coming to think a beautiful gold necklace they’d acquired, with a pearl the size of a peach pit, would look quite beautiful on Genevieve right now.
“I am pleased that I did not disrupt your morning,” Genevieve said, shaking him from his thoughts. “I… I was hoping you might have a moment to speak with me.”
Lucifer was quite amenable to such a thing, especially after the pleasant evening they’d spent the night before. “As you wish,” he said. “Shall we speak in private or do you wish to speak with me here?”
Genevieve could see he was agreeable; more than agreeable, in fact, so she pressed her point. “In private, if you do not mind,” she said. “Mayhap… a walk outside? Last night, you took me as far as the keep entry and I would so like to see more of the grounds. If you are willing, of course.”
A pleasant walk around Perran’s extensive grounds with a beautiful woman at his side? Lucifer didn’t see any harm or danger to that request. In fact, it was a most attractive prospect. She was a prisoner, of course, but even prisoners could be treated with respect. Without another word, Genevieve collected the brown cloak with dark-colored rabbit trim, and he took her by the arm and led her from the chamber, leaving the guards to lock the door with Vivienne and her dogs still inside.
But Genevieve wasn’t thinking about her sister as Lucifer escorted her from the chamber. She was thinking purely of her own wants. And as Lucifer took her down the spiral stone steps that led to the keep entry, she was thinking of a way to bring about the purpose of the conversation without making it sound as if she were nagging him about it. She didn’t want the man to change his mind about allowing her to buy her freedom. Therefore, she was very careful in her approach.
The day outside was bright but still rather foggy from the morning that had seen the entire coast socked in with mist. Bits of blue sky could be seen overhead through the clouds, and a crisp sea breeze blew steadily. Genevieve glanced up when she heard the gulls cry, shielding her eyes from the brightness.
“The gulls are quite bold,” she commented simply to fill the silence between them. “Do you know that they sit on the windowsills and demand food? One even came inside my chamber, although Vivi’s dogs chased it away.”
Lucifer smiled faintly. “They are not afraid to demand what they feel is their right,” he said, glancing at her. “And I would think the same can be said for you. You are not afraid to demand what you feel is your right.”
Genevieve could almost hear a rebuke in that statement, but she didn’t rise to it. In fact, she wanted this conversation to be pleasant, not just because she wanted to wrangle a promise from him, but also because he was handsome and, as she’d discovered last night, a good conversationalist when he wanted to be. She very much wanted things to be pleasant between them.
“I do believe I inherited all of the boldness in my family,” she said as if it were an embarrassing admission. “Vivienne is very meek and quiet, and from a very young age, I always spoke up for her. My father is the type of man that you must be bold with or he will never hear you. He is busy with his own needs and hardly has time for his children.”
Lucifer nodded. “I know the type.”
She looked at him, squinting in the sunlight. “Do you?” she said. “Was your father like that also?”
He shook his head. “Nay, he was not,” he said. “My father was surprisingly interested in his children.”
“Do you still speak with him, then?”
Lucifer shook his head. “I have not spoken with my father in many years.”
“Oh,” she looked rather startled, as if she should not have asked such a question. “I am sorry, then. I did not mean to pry.”
“You did not.”
She paused a moment. “Truthfully, I’ve not spoken face to face with my father for over a year,” she said. “I have been in Ireland during that time and any word from him came in the form of a missive, including the betrothal to de Noble. You would think that something of such importance would be delivered in person, but my father is not what you would call a warm or understanding man. He simply issues directives and we are expected to obey them. I have often wondered what it would be like to have a father who actually cared for his children.”
They were drifting onto a subject that, normally, Lucifer stayed away from. He did not speak of his past and the only person he’d ever spoken to of his father was Constantine, and that had been nearly by accident. But they’d drifted onto this subject so naturally that he didn’t feel the usual reserve that he did. In fact, he responded to her before he could stop himself.
“I think it can be both a blessing and a curse,” he said. “For my brothers and me, my father was firm but kind, but very rigid when it came to discipline. He would beat us for misbehaving and then hug us and weep afterwards. I grew up thinking that was the natural order of things until I went to foster and was beaten by my master, who did not weep in sorrow when it was finished. That was a shock to me, I must admit.”
Genevieve looked up at him, grinning because of the ironic twinkle in his eye. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Three.”
“Where do you fall in the order of the family?”
“I am the eldest son.”
She paused a moment before continuing. “May I ask you a question?”
“You may.”
“Is your name truly Lucifer? I only ask because it seems like such a hateful name for a child, and if you said your father was kind, then it seems… surprising.”
He glanced at her, coming to realize he’d spoken more of personal things with her than he’d ever spoken of with any of the men of Poseidon’s Legion, men he’d known for ten years or more. She was surprisingly easy to talk to, and God knew how long it had been since he’d last had a conversation with a woman, at least a woman he wanted to talk to. Inevitably, his defenses were going down, with her charm being the bombardment.
He was weakening.
“I will tell you, but you must swear to secrecy,” he said, feigning seriousness.
But Genevieve didn’t pick up on the jest. She nodded solemnly, convinced he was going to tell her something of great importance. “Of cou
rse,” she said. “I would never tell a soul, not even Vivi. Does this mean your name really is Lucifer?”
His lips flickered with a grin. “It is not,” he said. “But the last time I saw my father, he said that I was Lucifer himself, so I simply took that as my name. I suppose, in a sense, the man I was before my last conversation with my father ceased to exist. Now, I am Lucifer.”
Genevieve sensed a great deal of sorrow in the man with that statement. Something in his words suggested a depth to the man she hadn’t sensed before. She was greatly curious.
“Did you do something terrible?” she asked, but quickly caught herself and shook her head swiftly. “Forgive me. I should not have asked. That is not my business. I am sure you would like for me to get to the reason I asked to speak privately with you, and I shall. I know that your time is valuable.”
It was a very considerate observation, one that surprised Lucifer. It showed that the woman had some sense of thoughtfulness and decorum, unlike the wild animal who had attacked him yesterday. She was also well-spoken, and polite when she wanted to be, and he realized that he believed her when she’d said she’d been well educated, with many skills that fine ladies should have. He could believe it implicitly. There was also something in him that wanted to finish this part of their conversation before they delved into another. He had no idea why he should, but he did. It had been so long since he’d talked about himself that he found there to be something therapeutic in it. Having one’s walls of defense up constantly was exhausting. With Genevieve, there seemed to be some relief from that.
“My time is valuable,” he agreed. “But not so valuable that I am not inclined to spend time in conversation with you. It is rare that I have the opportunity to speak with someone like you. You are quite pleasant when you’re not trying to bash my brains in with a table leg.”
Genevieve grinned, embarrassed, and her cheeks flushed a sweet shade of pink. “And you are quite pleasant when you are not berating me,” she admitted. Her gaze lingered on him a moment. “May I also apologize for something?”
“What?”
“You are not really ugly. I did not mean it.”
He fought off a grin. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
He dipped his head gallantly. “Then I thank you, my lady,” he said. “Actually, I was coming to worry that I was. Your opinion in such matters, I am sure, is quite flawless.”
She giggled. “I suppose I think that it is but, in truth, I am sure it is not,” she said, sobering. “I was needlessly cruel yesterday, but you must understand that we… I mean, that this situation… it has been unnerving, to say the least.”
His smile faded as well. “That is understandable,” he said. “And it is Rhoan.”
“What is Rhoan?”
“My name,” he said quietly. “Rhoan Wyndham Aramis de Wolfe. My father is the Earl of Wolverhampton.”
Genevieve’s eyes widened. “The son of an earl is a pirate?”
He started to reply but he realized they were still standing just outside of the entrance to the keep and there were men about. He didn’t know how much anyone had heard of his conversation with Genevieve, but he suspected no one had really heard him. They would be taking their lives in their hands if they tried.
Still, to ensure their complete privacy, he offered his elbow to Genevieve, who accepted without hesitation. He began to walk, taking her to a section of the bailey off to the south that wasn’t busy with men going about their business. It was south of the hall, where the kitchen yard was, with an elaborate postern gate that led through the outer wall and to the world outside.
“Most pirates or mercenaries are not men who chose that profession,” he said. “Believe it or not, many of them simply fell into it, or took to it because they had no other option. I am one of the ones who simply fell into it.”’
Genevieve could feel his thick, muscular arm beneath her hand. It felt rather nice, rather safe, in fact, if the man wasn’t a known pirate. But she found this line of conversation deeply interesting.
“May I ask how you fell into it?” she asked.
Lucifer was looking up at the battlements of Perran as he spoke. “It is a long story,” he said. “And an ugly one. Suffice it to say that my father committed me to a priory in Wales to atone for my sins. Whilst serving at the priory in penitence, it was attacked by pirates. Constantine le Brecque and I had quite a battle before I realized I could not beat him, and he realized he could not beat me. You see, I always thought I was the best knight in all of England. But once I met a man I could not best, it was natural that I should swear allegiance to him. The men of Poseidon’s Legion believe I am a priest because they found me at the priory, but that is not true. I am a knight, and the heir to Wolverhampton. Being at the priory – I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
They had entered the kitchen yard at this point, wandering as they chatted, and they passed by the heavy postern gate that gave a hint of the sea beyond its iron slats. Genevieve glanced at it, but instead of thinking of it as a portal of escape, she was lingering on Lucifer and the conversation.
She understood, at least as much as he was telling her, but the great sin he committed that his father should consign him to the priory was a mystery, one she didn’t feel comfortable asking about. Clearly, Lucifer was a man of many secrets and she didn’t want to dig deeper, fearful she might not like what she discovered. As it was, she could feel herself warming to the man, as if the situation between them was completely normal and he was not her captor and she, not his captive. It was an illusion, she knew, but a welcome one. She’d never been so interested in a man in her entire life.
“So you became part of Poseidon’s Legion,” she said softly. “And your father – does he know?”
“He does not.”
She pondered that. “I think that if I had a son, I would want to know of him every moment of every day,” she said. “I would never let him out of my thoughts, not even if he did something terrible. Do you suppose your father does not think that way?”
He thought back to that horrible conversation he’d had with his father those years ago when the man had told him how ashamed he was of him. It was a conversation Lucifer had relived in his mind, many times, and always with the wish that he could redeem himself someday. But after living the life of a pirate for so long, he wasn’t sure that was possible anymore, and the realization cut him to the bone more than he could admit. After a moment, he shook his head.
“I do not know,” he said honestly. “Sometimes, there is damage between fathers and sons that cannot be repaired.”
“And you know this for certain?” she pressed gently. “You said your father was kind. I cannot imagine that has changed. You are his son, after all, and time has a way of diluting bad memories until all we remember are the better things. Mayhap, he has forgotten all about the harsh words between you two. But if he has not, mayhap he regrets them all the same.”
That was very true. And very upsetting. Lucifer found himself thinking about his father, whether or not he wanted to. It was enough to force him off the subject, sorrow for a man he’d not seen in years grabbing at him. He thought he’d done a good job of suppressing that sorrow over the years and didn’t like the fact that his conversation with Genevieve had brought it back.
“It is possible that what you say is true,” he said, clearing his throat quietly. “But I suppose some things are not meant to be repaired, no matter how much time has passed. Now, you wished to speak with me about something, my lady. Your time is valuable.”
Genevieve smiled, hearing her words. But she also realized he didn’t want to speak anymore on his father and she would respect that. Still, their conversation had been quite eye-opening. The brute from yesterday had transformed into a man who was agreeable and polite, and even kind if she really thought on it. He didn’t have to indulge her, not in the least. But he had.
She was coming to like him, just a little.
“My time i
s what you say it is,” she said. “If you say it is valuable, then it is. In truth, I wished to speak with you on a subject we discussed last night – my ability to buy my freedom and my sister’s freedom from you. Have you had an opportunity to think on it? I thought, mayhap, we could discuss what, exactly, I could do to earn my freedom. I told you I could do a great many things, and I can. One thing I could possibly do is act as an interpreter. You surely must do business with many people from many lands, and I can speak several languages. Could that be a way to earn my freedom?”
Lucifer hadn’t really thought much on their discussion from last night other than the images in his mind from the event – images of Genevieve. He’d thought on her beautiful face, her hair, her curvy figure. That had lingered on his mind last night and well into the morning. But the subject of their conversation hadn’t been in the forefront and, given her anxious expression, he was honest about it.
“I’ve not given it much thought,” he said. “It is true that we come into contact with men from many different countries, but we’ve not had a problem communicating with them.”
That was of some disappointment to Genevieve. She thought the interpreter offer was a valid one.
“I see,” she said. “You do not believe it would be a good service?”
“I did not say that. But if you were to act as interpreter, you would have to come aboard our vessels and that means you would be in danger when we engaged in battle.”
He said it like it was of some concern to him. His tone struck Genevieve as he spoke. Is he actually concerned for me? She thought. It was purely madness to think so, but then again, she thought it had been madness earlier to imagine the man had some warmth in his expression when it came to her, but their conversation today had shown her that she’d, indeed, been correct.
There was some warmth there.
“I am not afraid of a fight,” she said. It was not a boast, but truth. “I stood my ground when you overtook my father’s vessel, did I not?”
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “You did,” he said. “I remember it well. And then, of course, there was yesterday…”
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