Page 14 of Devilish

Whatever I wanted.

Getting to my feet, I cleaned up the table, being extra careful with the tea set and setting the last slice of toast on a paper towel for later. Lucien had told me I could raid the fridge when I got hungry, but that felt weird to do. I was so full that I couldn’t think about eating anytime soon anyway, so after I dried off the trays, I ventured back out into the main living area and then…just stood there.

After the storm last night, the skies were still grey, but it somehow fit perfectly with Lucien’s place. The whole vibe inside was dark and intensely sexy. Much like the man himself.

I ran my gaze over the room, my eyes catching on the staircase that curved up to a second floor, and found myself heading toward it. He’d told me I could explore, and hopefullythat meant anything off-limits was locked, because I was curious about the man who’d brought me here.

As I headed up the stairs, I slid my hand along the banister and looked out the cathedral windows to my left. Thick fog blocked the view, and I tried to remember seeing any of it last night. But I’d been distracted and panicked, barely remembering how we’d even gotten to Lucien’s building.

A long hallway greeted me at the top of the stairs, each exquisitely carved black door shut. Maybe everything up here was private, but that didn’t stop me from trying one of the handles anyway.

To my surprise, the door opened and low purple lights flickered to life beneath a long media console. Sitting on top was a large male bust and candles of all different shapes and sizes. But the focal point of the room was the swing that hung down from the ceiling.

A swing? In a house? Why would?—

Ohh. That wasn’t Lucien getting in touch with his inner child on a playground—that was a sex swing.

And suddenly, I felt like I was intruding.

I wasn’t going to think about how hot it was that he had a room like that in his house, something that really shouldn’t be surprising, considering he owned a sex club.

Ignoring the way my pulse started to race, I backed out of the room and shut the door behind me. Maybe exploring was a little too invasive.

I leaned back against the door and took in a couple of deep breaths. Just because he had a room like that didn’t mean he’d wantmeto go in it. But the longer I stood there trying to calm my thumping heart, the harder it was to decide if it was the idea that hedidn’twant me to go in there or the idea that he might that had me breathing erratically.

Shaking my head, I pushed off the door, heading toward the next room down the hall. This one had a double door, and as I reached for the handle, I paused.

What if this was Lucien’s room? No, he’d said that was downstairs, near mine.

I pushed down on the handle, wondering for a brief moment if it would indeed open, and just like the first room, the door opened wide.

Lucien hadn’t been lying when he said I could make myself comfortable in his home. There really was nothing off-limits here.

I stepped through the door and braced myself for what I might find. But when my eyes landed on several walls of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, my mouth fell open.

Wow…

Dark walnut floors, a beautiful rug at the center of the large space, and plush couches that looked like a dream all invited me to come inside and take a seat. It was cozy, inviting, and, unlike the other room, immediately put me at ease.

I quietly shut the door and headed toward one of the bookshelves, where a tall ladder on wheels extended to a rung at the very top. It was incredible, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I read the spines of some books and saw that they’d been broken up into sections.

Fiction. Nonfiction. Biographies.

No wonder Lucien was so knowledgeable. The man had his very own private library up here in his sanctuary. As I moved along the shelves, my eyes landed on a section he’d labeledClassics. I cocked my head, reading some of the titles there.

The Count of Monte Cristo,Frankenstein, Homer’sOdyssey,Poetry of Robert Frost, and one calledThe Canterbury Tales.

Deciding to take a chance on that one, I carefully took it from the shelf and ran my fingers over the cover. It was plainand showed slight signs of age, but was otherwise in immaculate condition. I took a seat on the couch and opened it up.

The writing inside was difficult to read, like something from a gothic novel. The pages were so thin, it felt as though I was handling something precious and fragile. I had no idea where you would find something like this out in the real world. But here in Lucien’s library it seemed somehow fitting.

I slowly turned the pages, noting that the book was first published in 1476. My hand hovered over the page as I stared at the date, my mind spinning as I took in the odd style of writing, the condition of the book, and the idea that maybe this was a…first edition? But then I shoved that thought aside, because who would leave a first edition that old just hanging around on a random bookshelf?

As I opened the book to the first story inside, the title was easy enough to read—“A Knight’s Tale.” That seemed fitting, as I thought of the gallant way Lucien had saved me last night. How he’d stepped out of the shadows and fought off the horrible beast Rupert, before offering me a hand and giving me somewhere safe to stay.

My lips tugged up on one side at the fantastical story I’d just created in my mind as I settled back into the couch and tucked my legs up under me.

So now I was casting myself as some damsel? I didn’t think so. But I did like the idea of Lucien being my knight in shining armor. He sure had the looks for it.

---