Page 19 of Midnight with the Devil

“So the paperwork from your attorney said you go by Lucien Star. But you’re Lucifer, right?”

Lucien stroked the stem of his wine glass as he contemplated his answer. “I’ve been the king of hell for a very long time. It can be a dull, repetitive existence. I wanted to have a life outside the business.”

A life outside hell? She couldn’t imagine the devil wanting anything to do with anything other than hell. But she was wrong. She couldn’t resist her increasing curiosity.

“So Lucien Star, like the Morning Star?” Diana finished off the rest of her food and waited to hear the devil explain himself.

“I’ve always loved and hated that name.” His voice softened, and his gaze drifted away from her.

“Why do you hate it?”

“To be called your father’s brightest star and then be cast into the darkness where nothing can shine?” He gripped the wine glass so hard the glass shattered. Diana flinched and rushed to wipe up the mess.

“Leave it,” he barked and snapped his fingers. The shattered glass vanished, and a new one appeared in its place.

Diana dropped her wine-soaked napkin onto the table, frowning. She’d never really had anyone yell at her before, and she’d only been trying to help. He may be Lucifer, but he wasn’t going to treat her like that.

“You shouldn’t yell at me. I was only trying to help.”

She met his glare bravely, and he sighed. “My apologies, Ms. Kingston. I’m afraid discussing anything that relates to myfallmakes me disagreeable.”

He sounded so formal, even more so than usual. She didn’t know him at all. Could one know the devil? At least she was learning something.Never mention the fall.

“I’m not interested in discussing myself. I’d much rather learn about you.”

“Really?” She couldn’t believe that. He only wanted to corrupt and seduce her.

“That surprises you?” He leaned forward, his eyes holding her to the spot. “Why wouldn’t I be interested in getting to know you, a pure soul and a ripe peach ready for plucking?”

Diana sucked in a breath. She would have been furious seconds before, but the way he spoke, it wasn’t an insult, it was a desire. The inferno in his gaze reminded her all too clearly of those hot nights in her dreams where he’d acted like the seductive villain she’d expected him to be tonight. Yet he was being far too gentlemanly tonight. What was his plan? What was the devil up to? It was obvious he was hungry for her, and she, as much as she wished to deny it, was hungry too.

Henry entered the room with two new plates and set them down in front of Lucien and Diana before he removed the empty appetizer plates.

“Mustard chicken, lemon pasta, and a lemon vinaigrette sauce with dill,” he announced.

“It looks amazing, Henry. Thank you,” Diana said.

Once the cook returned to his kitchen, Diana tasted the entrée, and this time she moaned.

“See? You were judging me earlier—I saw that look you gave me—but some food is good enough that it makes you moan. Some food comes close to being better than sex.”

“Close?” she asked.

He grinned wickedly. “Nothing is better than sex, at least when it’s done well.” The way he said this made her feel like he was taunting her.

“Hmm,” she murmured, not agreeing. Sex had always been pleasant before, but she couldn’t imagine sex with him would be good, because he was the devil. Yet the way he was looking at her, with that sexy, smoldering gaze that warned her he knew just what she was thinking and couldn’t wait to prove her wrong…

That was terrifying.

“You didn’t think those dreams you had were just your imagination, did you?” he asked.

She stopped breathing. The dreams. She wanted to forget and yet relive those dark, forbidden fantasies over and over. They had made sex feel overpowering, all-consuming.

“Well?” he demanded, his tone a little darker.

“I…guess I hoped they were.”

Lucien put a hand on her leg under the table, his warm palm sliding slowly up her thigh, pushing her dress out of the way until he reached her mound. She tried to scoot her chair back, but he reached up and gripped the back of it, stopping her from retreating.

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