the stem. ‘Your sister told me you haven’t got laid since—’
Lottie got up from the table so abruptly the crockery and glassware rattled. ‘My sister has no right to tell you anything about me. I know you probably think I’m an uptight prude who is secretly desperate for a bit of passion but you’re wrong. I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.’ She put her napkin down on the table with unnecessary force. ‘Enjoy your dinner. I hope it keeps you up all night with indigestion.’
‘Aren’t you going to show me the dungeon?’
‘Ask one of the footmen to show you.’
‘Frightened to be alone with me, little princess?’
Lottie turned to glare at him. ‘I’m not frightened of you. I’m disgusted.’
He laughed as he raised his glass in a toast to himself. ‘To pissing everyone off.’ He knocked back the contents and then grinned at the empty glass. ‘My favourite pastime … apart from sex, of course.’
Lottie could not believe he didn’t care a jot for other people’s opinion. Surely there was some small part of him that wanted validation. How could he possibly live his life so uselessly, so pointlessly? Was his life really about nothing but sex and sin? Surely he wanted more than that. Sex was good fun and all that but it didn’t satisfy the greatest yearning of all. To be loved and accepted, to be cherished and valued.
He repulsed her and fascinated her in equal measure. He was everything she most loathed in a man. Reckless. Morally corrupt. Enslaved by his senses. Out of control. Dangerous.
But he made her laugh. He made her feel feminine and desirable. He made her feel.
She straightened her shoulders. ‘I’ll show you the dungeon if only to prove how unsuitable it is for hosting a party.’
His dark eyes gleamed. ‘Will you hold my hand if I get scared of the dark?’
Lottie wondered if there was anything that truly scared him. He had such a fearless devil-may-care attitude to life, which—if she were to be perfectly honest with herself—she privately envied. She had let herself go just the once and it had backfired on her. Lucca let himself go all the time and didn’t seem to care what the fallout was. He seemed to revel in causing as much of a stir as possible. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘We have electricity down there. It was installed ten years ago.’
He smiled that sexy trademark slant of his. ‘If it fails, at least we have backup.’ He glided an indolent finger across her cheek as if to prove it.
Lottie brushed his hand away but her skin was still tingling when they got down to the dungeon via a service lift that only palace staff had access to.
The door was locked but she knew where the key was kept. She took it out of its hiding place and handed it to Lucca. ‘You can do the honours. The door’s a little heavy for me.’
He gave her an assessing look. ‘You’re not thinking naughty thoughts, are you, tesore mio?’
Lottie hated that he could make her blush so easily. ‘What naughty thoughts would I be thinking?’ Apart from getting naked with you and having the orgasm of my life?
He was still watching her with a steady and knowing gaze. ‘I don’t mind being tied up or blindfolded, even whipped on occasion, but I draw the line at being locked in a dungeon all by myself. What would be the fun in that?’
‘You have an overactive imagination.’
‘So do you.’
Lottie rubbed her arms with her crossed-over hands. Aside from the danger of being alone with Lucca Chatsfield, she was seriously getting spooked hanging about in this dark corridor. It had been years since she’d been down here. Ten years to be exact. Madeleine had locked her in the dungeon as a joke when she was thirteen years old. She had been scared witless and had been claustrophobic ever since. ‘Are you going to unlock the door or stand out here talking about it all night?’
He gave a low chuckle that echoed like a villain’s muahhahaha laugh in the cold dark space. She pinched her lips together to stop from smiling at his puerile sense of humour and stood well back as he unlocked the dungeon door. The hinge creaked like rattling chains and another chill tiptoed over her scalp like an army of ants with frostbitten feet.
‘That hinge could do with a squirt of oil,’ Lucca said. ‘You ought to put one of your fancy footmen on to it.’ He held the door open for her, sweeping his hand in front of himself to indicate for her to precede him. ‘After you.’
‘Um, you go first.’
His eyes danced. ‘You think I’m going to fall for that old trick? Nah, you’ve got the wrong dude, baby girl. You go first. That way I can keep my eye on you.’
Lottie stiffened her spine and walked past him, the cold damp air wrapping around her ankles like the ghastly leg irons attached to the stone walls. In that terrifying half-hour when Madeleine had locked her in all those years ago Lottie had sworn she could hear ghostly wails from behind those ancient stones. She rubbed at her arms again and turned and faced him. ‘As you can see, it’s totally unsuitable for a hens’ party.’
‘I disagree and so does your sister.’
She frowned at him. ‘You’ve already talked to her about this?’
‘But of course. She thought it was a fabulous idea.’
Of course she would, Lottie thought with an ember of resentment burning in the pit of her stomach. Her sister thought she was a scaredy-cat and delighted in pushing her out of her comfort zone. Wasn’t that the reasoning behind Lucca being brought in to add a bit of excitement to her staid and boring life? ‘Yes, well, obviously my sister and I don’t have the same taste in entertainment.’
‘Or men.’
‘I haven’t told you my taste in men.’
‘No, but I can guess.’
Lottie folded her arms. ‘I’ll save you the mental effort. Intelligent, hard-working and trustworthy.’
He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. ‘What about a sense of humour? Isn’t that what women find most attractive in a man?’
‘I prefer loyalty over laughter.’
‘When was the last time you laughed?’
‘I don’t keep a detailed record.’
His gaze went to her mouth. ‘Health experts say you should laugh every day.’ His eyes meshed with hers. ‘It’s like sex. It releases feel-good hormones.’
Lottie wasn’t sure how he had done it without her noticing but he was suddenly standing close enough for her to feel his body warmth radiating against her. Her heart skipped a beat as he traced the curve of her jaw with a fingertip. ‘Wh-what are you doing?’
‘I’m taking your mind off the fact that you hate being down here.’
‘What makes you think I don’t like being down here?’ She’d tried for insouciance but was pretty
