Page 26 of Midnight with the Devil

Diana eyedthe black box with a red satin bow on the top as she sat in the black sedan. Lucien’s driver had opened the door for her when she’d come down to the car, and he’d handed her the box. The letter said not to open the box until she was instructed to. So she wore jeans, a navy-blue sweater, and Converse shoes, and she had no intention of changing unless Lucien ordered her to. She would likely be ordered to strip again. The driver stopped outside the club and helped her out. She carried her bag and the black box inside, riding the elevator up to Lucien’s suite on her own.

The doors opened to Lucien’s apartment. It was empty, no sign of her would-be seducer. She set down the bag of clothes and books and wandered over to the bed, touching the red velvet throw. It was the same one he’d covered her with the last time. She almost smiled at the memory of him showing a tiny bit of, well, humanity. She turned her attention to the feather in the glass case, unable to resist walking up to it again. The grandfather clock in the corner close by chimed away twelve times.

The feather still hung in the air, the white strands sparkling as though diamond dust had been cast over it. She wondered what Lucien would look like with hundreds of feathers like this one forming two snowy-white wings. She imagined him in the sun, wings spread wide, shimmering. He would be the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She was so lost in a daze that she jumped when a hand gripped her wrist, preventing her from lifting the glass. She hadn’t even been aware that she was going to do that.

“I know it is tempting, but you must resist.” Lucien’s voice was quiet, soft.

She dropped her hand from the glass the moment he released her wrist.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so beautiful, I can’t…” She gave her head a little shake, trying to clear the strange fog.

“Come, we have midnight dinner reservations.” Lucien slid an arm around her waist and gently pulled her away from the feather in the glass case.

“Do I need to change or—”

“Not yet. Bring your box.” He let go of her to walk to the closet door and opened it. She was slowly getting used to the crazy idea that a closet door could open up to somewhere else, like a Malibu beach house. This time it was a villa in a tropical paradise.

“Where are we going?” She picked up her overnight bag and her black box and stared at the hand he held out to her. She tucked the box under her arm and placed her hand in his. He stepped through the doorway, and a humid ocean breeze lifted her hair.

Lucien grinned as he led her down the garden path illuminated by hanging colored lamps. Palm trees lined the walkway, and when they turned, a dark band of trees opened up to reveal a building. The massive villa had golden lights all around it with an infinity pool overlooking the ocean.

“Welcome to Belize.” Lucien took the box and escorted her to the villa’s main glass doors. All the lights were on inside, and she could see the expensive furniture, the gleaming walnut dining room table, the dark granite kitchen, and a massive whiskey-colored couch and huge TV. The second floor probably had bedrooms. It was stunning.

“Who owns this place?”

“Me.” Lucien opened one of the glass doors and allowed her to enter ahead of him.

“Why did I even bother asking?” she muttered. Lucien set the box on the coffee table by the couch and led her into the kitchen.

“No five-star chef?” she asked.

“No, tonight it’s just me.” He went straight to the bar. “Drink?” He opened a cabinet next to the stainless-steel fridge.

“Er…I guess. What do you have?” She glanced around at the art on the walls, which were all paintings of stormy seas. It was beautiful.

“Anything you want.”

“A Bay Breeze?” she asked.

“What the hell is a Bay Breeze?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“A splash of rum, pineapple juice, and cranberry juice.” She sat down on a barstool, watching Lucien as he removed his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. In that moment it all felt so normal, so like a real date. He wasn’t acting like the man who’d had his hand up her skirt at the previous dinner, or the man who’d demanded she strip down to her bra and panties and lie back on his bed while he played with her. But she could see by the fires barely banked in his eyes that it would happen again tonight. He would remind her that he owned her body and soul. Diana swallowed and glanced away from him.

“One Bay Breeze coming up.” He prepared her glass, then popped a little colorful umbrella into it. She stared at the umbrella. So the devil had a sense of humor when it came to mixed drinks? She picked up her glass and took a sip. It tasted perfect, of course.

He poured himself a glass of bourbon and took a sip, then went over to the oven and he pulled the oven door down. A wave of delicious aromas traveled through the kitchen.

“Jerk chicken and hush puppies,” Lucien announced as he removed two dishes and placed them on the stovetop to cool down. “I had to deep fry the hush puppies but I kept them warm in the oven.”

“So the devil knows how to cook?”

“Yes, I do.” He shot her smug look that shouldn’t have been sexy but it was. “They have the phraseHell’s Kitchenfor a reason. I have watched every season ofTop Chef, by the way. Now, why do you keep doing that?” He turned to face her, retaining his relative affability, but his eyes hardened.

“Doing what?” She blinked, baffled.

“Sayingthe devilthis,the devilthat. Why?” His direct look was accusing and cold now.

“Why? Because it’s true, you are the devil. So…”

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