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Lucienne shot to her feet. “I’m coming.”

“Let’s go,” Kian said, then sniffed his nose. “Someone stinks here.” He turned to Vladimir with a scowl. The prince shrugged with a defiant look.

Lucienne turned to Vladimir. “Go home and take a shower. Or you won’t be allowed to enter the castle again. Too many people have complained. Some have even called you a foul beast.”

Kian chuckled. “Some speak the truth.”

Vladimir rose to his feet with a lazy smile. “I’ll bathe only if you’ll dine with me tonight.”

“Dinner will be at the castle,” Lucienne said. “Aida needs a break for at least a month.”

“You know I can cook, too, at my place,” Vladimir said. “Unless you prefer dinner to be interrupted every two minutes by unannounced visitors who never knock.”

Kian snorted. “Is that how you got that black eye—for your excellent cooking skills?”

Fighting a smile, Lucienne followed Kian out, stopping at the door to look over her shoulder at Vladimir, who was still watching her. “Eight o’clock, at my place.” Then she was gone.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

A car approached the white mansion.

Lucienne peeked over from the verge of her candle-lit rooftop garden. Vladimir pulled his red Audi R8 sports car into the driveway and killed the engine. Whistling a country song, he hopped out.

Lucienne watched as the handsome boy strolled under a jungle of crimson maple foliage, toward the mansion’s door. He wore a black tuxedo. His usually disheveled mane was coiffed like an underwear model inEsquire. Lucienne smiled. Vladimir could easily pull off a style both classic and modern.

She darted away from the edge of the roof. “Music,” she commanded, and classical violin drifted over the rooftop. She scurried in her stilettos toward the other side of the roof, where her state-of-the-art telescope was situated. Underneath was the cliff, and far below, ocean waves made noisy love to the ancient rocks.

Lucienne often found herself on the roof watching the stars in the wee hours. Tonight, she wouldn’t be alone, and the stars may be even closer. Eterne might be one step away if she could just feel its pulse for a split second.

The front door opened and closed. Vladimir must have passed her fortress’ first line of defense. The biometric scanner outside her door was programmed to admit Kian, Vladimir, Aida, and Ziyi. The armed ceiling sensors were also designed to recognize them and not unleash deadly offensive weapons.

Lucienne could picture Vladimir striding through the maze of corridors. At the end he would find a spiral staircase. If he stopped to look down from the third floor stairs, he would glimpse a partial viewof her library filled with manuscripts and books. She treasured her multilingual collection of ancient mythologies—the legends surrounding antediluvian knowledge and wars between gods, demigods, and long-ago heroes, as well as the tales of the origin of the human race long forgotten by the modern world.

They were merely collections. Her prized possessions were stored secretly in her temperature-controlled cellar, impenetrable to satellite and guarded by the most advanced laser weapons. Lucienne was the only one who had access to the chamber. After all, the Siren was the keeper of powerful secrets within secrets.

And there he was—emerging onto the roof, sauntering toward her with a breathtaking smile. The stars were behind his shoulders. “Lucia.” He took in the sight of her with appreciation.

Lucienne wore a one-shoulder silk evening gown of a spring blue, with a daringly low-cut back and curve-hugging mermaid skirt. Her hair was pinned up, a few tendrils playing seductively with her dangling ruby earrings.

She tilted her head toward the redwood table between them. On it were two sets of China plates accompanied by ornate silver utensils. Violet napkins were folded into flowers. Positioned around their plates were a variety of Asian sauces. At the center of the table a pot of soup stock simmered. The aroma lingered between them.

“We’re going to have Wild Mandarin Duck huo guo tonight,” Lucienne said.

Wild Mandarin Duck Hot Pot wasn’t the most romantic dish, but it was fun. Lucienne saw approval in Vladimir’s hazel eyes as they swept over the table. Then his gaze pulled back to her, over every inch of her, caressing her without a touch.

A sudden shadow of doubt breezed into her mind. What was she doing? And what would this lead to after tonight? They couldn’t really have an intimate relationship. Stubbornly, she pushed reason to the fringe of her mind. She and Vladimir hadn’t been together since their second kiss. They hadn’t allowed themselves to enjoy eachother’s company for a very long time. She’d have this night, as would he.

Lucienne took the bottle of wine from the ice basket, pouring one for Vladimir and one for herself into the crystal glasses.

“We’re underage, milácek.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t we check with the adults about drinking?”

“Call your uncle,” Lucienne said.

“You’re still the queen of irony.” Vladimir laughed. “And you take my breath away.”