Finally, her mother had heard her and let her out.
To this day, Grace was slightly claustrophobic from the experience. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to spend centuries in such a place.
"How horrible," she breathed.
"You get used to it. In time."
"Do you?" She didn't know, but for some reason she doubted it.
When her mother had released her from the toolshed, she found out she'd only been inside for half an hour, but to her it had seemed like an eternity. What would it be like to really spend eternity that way?
"Have you ever tried to escape?"
The look he gave her spoke loudly.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Obviously, I failed."
She felt horrible for him. Two thousand years spent in a lightless crypt. It was a wonder he was still sane. That he was able to even sit here with her and speak at all.
No wonder he had wanted food. That kind of sensory deprivation was sheer, unrelenting torture.
In that moment, she knew she was going to help him. She didn't know how, but there had to be some way to break him out. "What if we could find a way to get you free?"
"I assure you, there isn't one."
"Fatalistic, aren't you?"
He cast a droll look at her. "Being trapped for two thousand years does that to a person."
Grace watched him eat, her thoughts whirling. The optimist in her refused to take his pessimism to heart, just like the therapist in her refused not to help him. She'd sworn an oath to relieve suffering when she could and Grace took her oaths most seriously.
Where there was a will, there was always a way.
And come heck or high water, she would find a way to get him free!
In the meantime, she decided she would do something for him she doubted anyone else ever had before-she was going to see to it that he enjoyed his reprieve in New Orleans. The other women might have kept him confined to their bedrooms or closets, but she wasn't about to put chains on anyone.
"Well, then, let's just say that this incarnation is for you, bud."
He looked up from his food with sudden interest.
"I'm going to be your servant," Grace continued. "Whatever you want to do, we'll do. Whatever you want to see, you'll see."
One corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement as he took a drink of wine. "Take off your shirt."
"Excuse me?" she asked.
He set his glass of wine aside and pinned her with a hot, lustful stare. "You said I can see what I want to see and do what I want to do. Well, I want to see your naked breasts, and then I want to run my tongue-"
"Whoa, big fellow, simmer down," Grace said, her cheeks scalding, her body white-hot. "I think there should be a few ground rales while you're here. Number one, there won't be any of that."
"And why not?"
Yeah, her body demanded in a half begging, half angry inner voice. Why not?
"Because I'm not some alley cat with her tail up in the air waiting for the nearest Tom to come over, stick it in, and leave."
Chapter 4
Julian cocked his brow at her wholly unexpected, wholly crude analogy. But even more surprising than her words was the amount of bitterness he heard in Grace's voice. She must have been badly used in the past. No wonder she was skittish of him.
An image of Penelope flashed through his mind, and he felt a stab of pain so ferocious in his chest that only his staunch military training kept him from wincing.
He had much to atone for. Sins so great that not even two thousand years could begin to compensate for them.
He hadn't just been born a bastard; because of a brutal life of desperation and betrayal, he had truly become one.
Closing his eyes, he forced those thoughts away. That was literally ancient history and this was the present. Grace was the present.
And he was here for her.
Now, he understood what Selena had meant when she'd spoken to him about Grace. That was why he was here. He was to show Grace that sex was enjoyable.
Never before had he encountered anything like this.
As he looked at Grace, a slow smile curved his lips. This would be the first time in his life he'd ever had to pursue a woman for his lover. No woman had ever turned his body down.
What with her wit and stubbornness he knew getting Grace into bed would prove to be every bit as challenging as outwitting the Roman army.
Yes, he would savor this.
Just as he would savor her. Every sweetly freckled inch of her.
Grace swallowed at the first true smile she'd seen from him. A smile that softened his features and made him even more devastating.
What on earth was he thinking?
For the umpteenth time, Grace felt her face flood with warmth as she thought about her crude words. She hadn't meant to let that slip out. It wasn't like her to betray her thoughts to anyone, especially a stranger.