Page 21 of Seduced

Could she have lived such a life once?

And if she had, how could she have so utterly forgotten it?

Then again, maybe her brother had been right: her father had been a depraved wretch.

Jesus loves depraved wretches, a voice said in her head, unbidden. It was clearly spoken in her father’s quiet baritone, she was sure of that—thatshe still remembered, the sound of his voice.

The words were another memory. She licked her lips.

“What if I was a deeply wealthy person,” she told the Slavic angel, “disguising myself as a poor imp?”

“Did you say ‘imp’?”

“I did.”

“Well, you are certainly in disguise, playing the simpleton, if nothing else. Do not flatter yourself for a moment that I did not notice—but I do not care enough to wonder what exactly you are disguising. You are not half as interesting as you pretend to be. I do not care to uncover your disguise; other than ascertaining that your limp is real. I’m sorry, by the way.”

Poppy thought of that for a moment. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that I must be poor because I have a limp?”

“In a word, yes.”

“I beg your pardon!”

Hades sighed. “Don’t get your feathers all in a ruffle now, all right? Of course many rich people have limps and all sorts of traits. It’s just that they are more cowardly than most, as a rule, and take care to hide any differences from the common people very well.”

“Well, at least you didn’t call my limp a ‘flaw’, even though you called me common,” Poppy said. “You wouldn’t have lived long if you had.”

“You little—”

Hades swallowed his words before they had a chance to come out of his mouth. Three minutes passed in silence. Her heart was beating like a drum. She feared Hades would hear, and ask her why she was so anxious.

“I don’t know who is shaking worse: you or the kitten,” Hades said, sounding disgusted. Ah, too late. “I shall ask the cook to fix something for you once we get back to Hell.”

But at least he refused to feel pity for her, which was a small blessing.

“I’m sorry, was Your Excellency talking ter me or the cat?”

“Both. And I’m not your excellency. Do not pretend to be a fool, I can’t stand them.”

“I weren’t, Yer Worship.”

“Stop that, right now. How conveniently your accent comes and goes! You know my title well enough, and you know how to speak properly. Stop playing the fool.”

“Some say yer highness is a prince,” Poppy said, just to rile him up. But she was curious as well.

“Well, I’m not. Not in England. Now kindly call me Mikailoff or Lord Perlin, or, preferably, nothing.”

“Yes, Yer Highness.”

“I have a headache.”

“Mayhap yer honor should eat as well.”

“How dare you,” he spat. God, indignation made him look even more devastatingly beautiful. “No, don’t say anything. If you don’t talk, you won’t lie. What’s happened to you? Who hurt you? Why are your knuckles covered in blood?”

“Why are yours?”

Hades looked her up and down.

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