My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(2)

But there was nothing angelic in the decided glint of wicked humor in those magnificent eyes and sensuous cut of those full lips.

And, of course, the indecent charm of those deep dimples.

She should have sent him on his way the moment he arrived upon her doorstep. Not even for a moment should she be considering the notion of allowing such a disturbing gentleman into her home.

She would have to be mad.

When she had first been struck with the notion of renting her attics, it had been with the prospect of discovering a quiet, comfortable tenant. Someone who would not disturb the peace of her household.

Unfortunately there were few such tenants who desired to live in a neighborhood that hovered on the edge of the stews. The local pickpockets and prostitutes did not possess the funds to pay the rent, even if she were to consider allowing them into her home. And the few gentlemen who possessed businesses in the area already owned their own property, usually far from St. Giles.

Which left Lucien Valin.

A shiver raced down her spine.

If only she were not in such desperate need of money.

If only it were not a full two months until her quarterly allowance.

If only...

Her lips twitched with wry humor. She could devote the next fortnight to listing the "if-onlys"

in her life. Now was not the time for such futile longings.

She better than anyone understood that the mistakes of the past could not be altered. One could only ensure that they were not repeated.

Unconsciously straightening her spine Jocelyn forced herself to meet that piercing golden gaze. It came as no surprise to discover her visitor's lips were twitching as if he were amused by her obvious hesitation.

"So, Miss Kingly, was the newspaper in error?" he prodded in that husky, faintly accented voice. "Do you have rooms to let or not?"

The voice of a devil. Jocelyn sucked in a steadying breath. Devil or not, he was the only potential tenant who offered the cold, hard coin she so desperately needed.

There had to be something said for that. Unfortunately.

"There are rooms," she agreed in cautious tones. "However, I feel it incumbent to warn you that they are located in the garret and are quite cramped. I am uncertain that a gentleman of your large proportions would find them at all comfortable."

His slender, powerful hands moved to steeple beneath his chin, the golden eyes shimmering in the slanting morning sunlight.

"Do not fear, I am tall, but thankfully, quite intelligent. I need hit my head upon the rafters on only a handful of occasions to recall to duck."

"There is also our unfortunate proximity to the slaughterhouses. The stench can be unbearable on some days."

"I have discovered that there are few places in London that are not plagued with one unpleasant odor or another. Not even Mayfair is unaffected."

Jocelyn maintained her calm demeanor with an effort. She never allowed herself to be ruffled.

She had learned through painful experience that to lose control was a certain invitation to disaster.

"Unlike Mayfair, however, this neighborhood can be quite dangerous as well."

His dimples suddenly flashed. "Surely, my dear, you do not suppose Mayfair to be without its dangers? Just imagine . . . marriage-mad mamas, overdressed fops fragrant with the stench of rose-water, and a prince who insists upon keeping his chambers as smothering hot as the netherworld. It is enough to terrify the stoutest of hearts." He lifted one broad shoulder. "I should be able to hold my own against a handful of thieves and street urchins."

There was no reasonable argument to refute his confident words. Although he cloaked himself in a lazy charm, there was no mistaking the fluid power of his male form or the hint of ruthless will that was etched upon the lean features.

Only a fool would underestimate the danger of Mr. Lucien Valin. And Jocelyn was no fool.

"If you say," she reluctantly conceded.

"Is there anything else?"

"There are my rules, of course," she swiftly countered, not at all surprised when his lips curled in open amusement.

"Of course."

"This is not a lodging house. I live very quietly. I will not countenance loud gatherings or drunken carousing."

A tawny brow flicked upward. "I am allowed no callers?"

"Only if they are discreet."

For some reason her cool response only deepened his amusement. "Ah."

That unwelcome shiver once again inched down her spine, and Jocelyn discovered herself battling back the words to order this Mr. Valin from her house.

She did not have the luxury of turning away a perfectly suitable tenant just because of some vague fear.

"And the arrangement will be of a temporary nature," she instead retorted in an effort to reassure her faltering nerve. "No longer than two months."

"That suits me well enough."

It appeared everything suited the devil.

Jocelyn narrowed her gaze. "I also must insist that you respect my privacy. You are welcome to eat in the kitchen with Meg, but the remainder of the house is not to be entered."

There was a brief pause as he studied her carefully bland countenance. Then he gave a vague nod of his head.

"As you wish. Is that all?"

It was, of course.

She was charging him an outrageous sum of money for cramped rooms and meals he would be forced to eat in the servants' quarters.