“Yes. I spent my whole life watching ships sail into that mist. I always wanted to see what was out there. When I was twelve, I ran away and joined the crew of a merchant ship. That was one of the best years of my life.” His eyes gazed into the past.
Jocelyn placed a hand on his arm. “I’d think that life would be a shock to the son of a baron.”
Michael’s eyes came back to the present and sparkled with his smile. “It was. That’s what made it so grand. The work was hard, backbreaking. My soft skin quickly blistered and bled, but over time it scabbed over and hardened. Once the wind beats you about enough, you learn to be strong in a way I could have never learned at home. Each day out there is a gift. It’s just you and the ocean, and she could take you at any time.”
“Sounds scary more than anything.” It was easy to adopt the impressed tone of a delicate woman.
“I doubt the thought scares you at all. You don’t seem like the type of woman who frightens easily.” His eyes seemed to peer into her, seeing who she was instead of the fantasy most men saw when they looked at her.
“You’re right. I’m not. However, you were twelve and away from home for the first time. Are you telling me you were never frightened?”
“Oh there were times when I was. When the first storm hit, I thought for sure I was going to die. But there’s nothing so peaceful as watching the sunrise across a calm sea from atop the mainmast. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I’d weather any storm knowing that once it was through, I’d either be dead or up in the rigging, alone in a vast ocean. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Sounds ideal.”
“It is. What’s your ideal?”
“The same as yours.” Michael cocked his eyebrows, and Jocelyn smiled. “Freedom. That’s what you have at sea. We’re alike in that regard. My road to freedom is just different than yours. That’s how I know how painful this new change in your life must be.” That was more of herself than she’d ever shared with a client. Michael had already shown he wasn’t interested in the fantasy. If he wanted the reality, she’d give it to him. There wasn’t any chance of their business progressing far. He was too minor a lord for her to concern herself with. It was liberating to speak freely and, given his imminent return to the obscurity of Dover, entirely safe. “Though I find it hard to believe that you’ve been a sailor all these years.”
“I would have lived before the mast for the rest of my life, but I needed to own my own ship to make it respectable. I didn’t care about respectability, but the scandal was too much for my mother. I couldn’t do anything to threaten my family’s standing. So I bought a ship and then another and another.”
“Must be terribly lucrative.”
“‘Must be?’ You’re a businesswoman. I don’t want to flaunt my wealth, but I also don’t want you to act like you don’t know the way the world works. Most men may like the act, but I’m more interested in the intelligent and shrewd mind that got you where you are.”
Jocelyn hadn’t met a man in quite some time who didn’t enjoy her flattery. “All right. So how did you build up such a fleet? I doubt a baron would help his son by diverting money away from his own estate.”
“Of course not. I saved every bit of money I made. After the first ship, the rest were easy. It’s amazing how quickly money multiplies when it’s not squandered. Now that I’m a baron, I’ll be putting the money into the estate.”
“Couldn’t you continue living at sea? Many wealthy men spend hardly any time on their lands.”
“I have too many responsibilities at home. I can’t leave my mother and sister-in-law alone. The tenants depend on me. If I were at sea and something were to happen, it would take weeks, maybe even months, for me to be notified. I wouldn’t be able to protect my family from so far away.”
“It’s admirable, what you’re doing. Not many men have such a sense of honor.”
“It would be honorable if I didn’t spend so much time resenting it.”
“Resenting it means you’re human. Doing it despite your resentment means you’re honorable. I’ve known my fair share of dishonorable men in my life. You’re not one of them.”
“I’m glad you think so. What else do you think?”
Jocelyn was momentarily taken aback. Her opinions were usually only solicited on topics that her clients would find either entertaining or beneficial. The seriousness of Michael’s tone and the way his eyes bore into hers were completely foreign to her. “A great many things.”
* * *
Jocelyn’s ribs hurt from laughing. “Stop. I’m worried my face is going to freeze like this.” She stretched her cheeks, trying to work the ache out of them.
They had moved to the floor at some point, sprawled on their stomachs facing each other. Between them were coins, candlesticks, and bits of paper arranged to form a map of the places Michael had been.
“I’m telling you, that’s how the people there speak.”
“And they’d no doubt feel the same about you.”
“You’re right, of course. Their minds are just as astute as ours. I suppose they’re the same as us.”
Jocelyn nodded. “So where did you go next?”
“Not so fast. You have something else to say.”
“No I don’t.”
“I saw the thought flit across your face. I want to know what it is. No hiding.”
He had been like this most of the night, always wanting to know what she thought, not letting her weave any type of shroud. “They’re not the same, but that doesn’t mean inferior. Everyone’s knowledge is shaped by experience. A person living in a different country—with a different language, a different culture—would form their ideas in a much different way. The differences between English and French, for instance, the subtleties that betray the differing weights we place on certain values and emotions, are all very fascinating. They can’t be brushed aside. To fully engage in life, one has to appreciate all the variety of experiences.”
“I suppose your time at court has exposed you to a great many people.”
“Yes, it’s one of the highlights of my work.” A beam of light shone into her eyes as she gazed at Michael, pulling her attention to the window. “Dear heavens, the sun is already up.” Jocelyn gathered her things and stood. She had never met the sun inside a client’s chamber before. It jarred her to realize how complacent she had become and how easily she had allowed the time to slip away from her.
Michael scrambled to his feet. “Please, stay. There’s no need to run off. At least have some breakfast with me.” Michael grabbed her wrist, his eyes pleading more than his voice.
“You hired me for the night, and the night is through.” Her cold tone cut through the warmth of the sunlight. There was no use dragging him along. She had already done enough of that. It was morning; time for realities. If she let the fantasy continue, she worried she’d fall for her own act and stay with him. He needed to understand that theirs was a business relationship.
“You can’t honestly tell me that you just spent the night talking with me, arguing with me, challenging me, for the money. I don’t buy it. This act may work on others, but not me. I know you too well.”
“Know me? You don’t even know my name. How could you possibly know me?” Jocelyn took offense at his words, possibly because they were true. What had seemed like innocent conversation with a man who would leave her life as quickly as he had entered it suddenly appeared dangerous. It had been easy to believe she was just giving the client what he wanted, but that was only because she hadn’t wanted to admit that she was losing herself in the comfortable ease she felt with him. In the light of day, she faced the consequences of her foolishness.
“What does your name matter? I know the way you think, the way you make me feel, and I know I make you feel the same way.”
“Really? Did it ever occur to you that this is what I do for a living? Making men feel this way is my job.”
“Fine, if it’s your job, may I hire you for tonight?”
That caught her off guard. She did want to be with him again, and if it was a job, there was no harm in it.
“Very well. You may employ me for tonight.” Jocelyn bit her lip, knowing deep down that this was more than business.
“Here, take this as advance payment. I don’t want to spend any time tonight dispensing with business matters.” He took her purse and added another night’s fee to it. “Now, may I know your name, or shall I simply call you Aphrodite?”
A flutter in her stomach made her smile. She had been called beautiful too many times to count, but this was the first time someone who had really seen her had called her such. Most men said she was beautiful because they wanted to bed her. Michael had seen her more intimately than any of her clients ever had. His sincerity gave his words an unaccustomed weight. She moved to the door. “My name is Jocelyn.”
“Well thank you, dear Jocelyn. May I escort you home?” He took her hand and led her out of the room.
“No, thank you.”
“Until tonight then.” Michael kissed her hand and then shut the door. Jocelyn fought against the giggle rising in her throat and skipped the first two steps down the hall.
* * *
Chapter 4
Lawrence took a sip of his wine to chase the roast he had just swallowed. It seemed like only yesterday Jocelyn had come knocking on his door as a young girl. The transformation from bold girl to confident woman had been a wonder to witness. He eagerly anticipated watching her next transformation.
“You look quite happy today. I take it last night went well?” It was his custom to have luncheon with Jocelyn on days when their schedules permitted. More color filled her cheeks, and her smile was larger, freer than normal. She generally kept her expressions carefully controlled. This break in habit interested him.
“Yes, it did. I found a new client. He has me for tonight as well. Payment in advance.”
“Good. Who is he?”
“Baron Barwick of Dover. It’s his first time at court. Newcomers are always easy targets.”
“Anything special about this one?”
Jocelyn seemed to finally take notice of her expression. The fact that she schooled it said more than her words ever could. “Not particularly. He’s not thrilled about being at court. I suppose it would have been better to find a client with more potential as a regular, but he’s a nice change.”
“A short engagement might be just the thing right now. Besides, you’re with a baron at the masquerade tomorrow night. He’ll most likely request your services quite frequently, and there’s no need to entertain too many barons. You don’t really need any of them. The king will probably make George a duke before long. There’s no reason for you to entertain anyone less than an earl.”
“Oh come now, Lawrence. There’s no need to be so exclusive. I’ve helped many a baron climb the ranks. They’re always so easy to impress and incredibly grateful. Barons never cause any trouble. It’s always dukes and earls who lose their heads.”
“I’ve never known you to shy away from power.”
“And I’m not now.”
“Just make sure you don’t over exert yourself tonight. Masquerades can be tiring, and Lord Bradley deserves your full attention tomorrow.”
“Of course. Like I said, barons are easy to impress. For all intents and purposes, I have the night off. I’m just being paid for it.”
Lawrence chuckled. Jocelyn knew her craft well. It was ridiculous to be concerned just because she enjoyed herself on what was supposed to be her night off. He needn’t worry that another man would take her from him.
* * *
“And how fares your prodigy, my son?” Zenas, Lawrence’s sire, spoke to Lawrence’s mind.
“Well.”
“When will she be ready for the transformation?”
“I’d like to wait a while longer. Her instincts only improve with age. I’d hate to curtail her progress by changing her too soon.” Jocelyn’s ability to subconsciously read and respond to human energies was remarkable. She didn’t know it, but it was the reason she excelled at her work. By selectively choosing mortals with exceptional talents to turn into vampires, Lawrence felt a new, higher evolution of their species could be born. He saw an untapped potential lying within his kind.
“I trust your judgment in this matter, my son. Whenever you feel she is ready, I will be there to turn her and bring her into our family. Perhaps I will come see her for myself before then.” Since vampires spoke telepathically with only their sires and mates, Zenas turned all mortals who joined the clan. None of his children were even allowed to mate with another vampire unless the potential mate was a member of the family. The rule was rather brilliant. Zenas had remained the leader of one of the largest and most powerful clans in the world for hundreds of years.
If Zenas met Jocelyn, Lawrence knew he wouldn’t be able to resist changing her. Lawrence couldn’t allow that. He had to be the one who would bite her, feeding his venom and her own blood back to her. He yearned for the day he would watch his venom take hold of her, urging her to kill and then fall into the transformation sleep, waking as a vampire, tied eternally to him. However, any hesitance on Lawrence’s part would be dangerous to both him and Jocelyn. “Any time, Sire. I would be honored by your presence. I only fear that you may be unimpressed by her. It means a great deal to me that you are willing to transform her for me.”
“It’s my pleasure. You have been alone much too long, my friend. It’s time you took a mate. It is unnatural to live so long without the companionship of another. As soon as she is ready, I shall transform her, and then you may mate. If she is only half as impressive as you describe, the two of you together will make a formidable pair, one I will be happy to have in my clan.”
Lawrence had the same thought; only he didn’t plan on mating with Jocelyn. The thought sickened something inside him. He didn’t need a mate. He needed a daughter.
* * *
Chapter 5
Michael sat at the same table as the previous night, his gaze affixed to the door, and his knee bouncing under the table as he balanced on the edge of his chair. The day at court, being presented to the king, had been every bit as tedious as he’d expected. Sleep deprivation and the thought of the evening that awaited him after the formal ordeal hadn’t helped. In fairness, he had made some useful business contacts and represented his family well, but those things seemed of little consequence at the moment.
As soon as Jocelyn entered, he jumped to his feet. All traces of fatigue fled at the sight of her. The green silk she wore highlighted her hazel eyes and auburn hair to perfection. If at all possible, she was even more enticing than before. Every man in the room knew she was beautiful, but Michael knew she was so much more than that. He felt as if he held a privileged secret.
“Jocelyn, you look even more beautiful than I remember.” Michael brought her hand to his lips. A demure smile spread across her face. “Don’t start the act with me. I’ve seen your real smile, and that isn’t it.”
Jocelyn relaxed her features. It wasn’t as alluring or seductive, but it was beautiful and open. It was the face Michael was falling in love with.
“Thank you. Now, if you’ll come with me…” Michael led her to a private dining room in the back. It was an intimate space away from the sometimes raucous patrons of King’s Head. A table set for two waited for them.
Michael pulled out Jocelyn’s chair for her. The aroma of the pheasant pie overpowered the delicate scent Jocelyn wore. Michael poured them each a glass of King’s Head’s most expensive wine.
“I would have thought, after last night, you would want to go straight to the bedroom.” Jocelyn took a sip of the wine. Its purple color left a slight stain on her lips.
Michael reached across the table to take her hand. “Jocelyn, last night was incredible. I don’t care about your profession. You are a lady, and I intend to treat you as one. I plan for us to have a pleasant meal and then continue the conversation upstairs. I’ve ha
d all day to think of questions to ask you.”
“What could you possibly want to know about me?”
“Everything.”
* * *
“So why is it you do what you do?” They were in Michael’s room, sitting on the sofa, drinking wine. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“A girl has to do something with her life. Why not this? It pays better than anything else and gives me a level of autonomy that would make a duchess envious. I find my work incredibly enjoyable, which is more than most people can say.”
“But aren’t there better ways to make a living? You could marry any man you wanted, I’m sure. Why not let a man take care of you?”
“I have made my living providing an escape for those men. Why would I enter a life that so many feel the need to flee? I’m happy as I am. Why can’t you be happy enjoying this time with me?”
“Because I don’t believe you’re happy. You may think you are, but someone as intelligent as you needs more. You need to be appreciated.”
Jocelyn raised her eyebrows. “Trust me. The men I service appreciate me.”
“Not really. They appreciate the fantasy you provide. Are you telling me that you have been yourself—that you’ve been the way you’ve been with me—with any of your other clients?”
Michael caught her hesitation. She masked it well by taking a drink of her wine, but it was there. After a lengthy drink, she spoke. “Well, you have me there. Most men’s fantasies don’t involve staying up all night talking chastely by the fire. Apparently, yours do, so I’m obliging. As soon as your fantasy changes, I will change so long as I am in your service.”
Michael shook his head. “Fine, Jocelyn. Keep up the pretense if you wish. I won’t call you out. I’d rather see it fall by itself than by any pressure of mine.” He watched Jocelyn give him a slight smile. “So how did you get your start?”
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