The Struggle(64)

But I did hold back, because I knew Josie wasn’t ready for any of that. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure she was being honest about all that had happened to her during her captivity. Even if she was, she’d been through some shit and then she’d come to me, and the first thing she’d seen was me feeding. The last thing she needed was for me to be all over her like a boy who just discovered he had a functional dick.

Sighing, I stepped aside and extended my arm toward the door, bowing. “After you, Kyría.”

Josie shot me a narrowed-eyed look that brought a slight smile to my lips. The black linen pants and tank top Basil had scrounged up were a size too small. Not that I was complaining. The thin pants hugged her ass quite nicely. I was enjoying the view, but in the back of my head, I was stressing about how Josie hadn’t said she loved me in return yesterday. That had not gotten past me unnoticed. Her steps slowed as she entered the hallway and stared at Basil. She seemed to hesitate, obviously unsure of how to handle him.

I joined her. “We’re going to take a quick tour of the house.”

Basil nodded. “Your other guests are currently in the kitchen, Kýrios. I explained that we have staff more than willing to make them breakfast, but they insisted on doing so themselves.”

“That’s fine. They can have free run of the place.”

He nodded. “Additional clothing for the kyría should be arriving by this afternoon.”

“Perfect.” I grinned down at Josie.

She was staring at Basil with wide eyes even as the half bowed and walked off. She turned to me. “That is so weird. Like, really weird. I mean, it’s like having a butler. He’s like always there, just waiting to do stuff for you.”

“He has to be bored out of his mind. I don’t really have him do much. Same goes for any of the staff here. Using them as servants doesn’t . . . sit well with me even though they seem to want to be here.”

Her head cocked to the side, causing her long hair to tumble over her shoulder. “But you grew up with servants, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “This entire house used to be filled with them.” I had to touch her, so I placed my hand on her lower back, urging her to take a step forward. “This is the third floor. There are only a few bedrooms up here,” I explained, ushering her down the hall. “If you go in the other direction you can go out on the balconies. They circle the entire home.”

“Wow.” Her gaze darted over the closed doors that used to lead to my bedroom and to my mother’s. “Does anyone use these rooms?”

“No. They are closed off.” Steering her away from those rooms, I led her down the wide hall, toward the spiral staircase that emptied into the atrium on the first floor. “The second floor is mostly guest bedrooms. There’s also a living room that no one used when I was younger and I’m assuming no one uses now.”

Josie’s gaze was bouncing all over the place as we descended the stairs, bypassing the second floor. She was fascinated with the statues and paintings of the gods. By the time we reached the main level, she appeared thunderstruck. “Okay. Why in the world would you guys need a house this big? I mean, it was just you and your mom, right?”

“People who have money like to show off the fact they have money.” I led her toward the back of the house, passing several white-clothed staff who’d paused to bow deeply, causing Josie’s face to flush. “My mother would have a lot of parties and the . . . guests would stay for several weeks, months even. That’s the library to your right. Main living room is to your right beyond that. A theater room connects off of it.”

“A theater room?” she mumbled, shaking her head as we neared the hallway that led to the kitchen and the scent of frying bacon. “When you say ‘guests,’ you say it like they weren’t really guests.”

I shrugged as we crossed into the sunroom. “They were mostly other pures and . . . lovers.” A wry grin appeared. “Mother got around.”

Her stare sharpened as she trailed her fingertips over the wide leaf of one of the many potted plants situated among the comfy, oversized chairs and chaise lounges. “So your mom had a lot of lovers?”

Nodding, I stepped in front of her and opened the door that led out to the shaded patio. “This way leads to the courtyard. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes.” She followed me out into the balmy breeze. “Your father was one of her lovers.”

“That’s how I was made.”

Her eyes rolled. “Well, duh.” She glanced up at the churning ceiling fans. “Did you father stay here?”