Chapter 39. Punished

Lucien

He grunted and downed his drink in a gulp. Wave upon wave of jealousy flooded him as he gulped another stiff drink, seething with rage. Damn, the woman. Did she have to parade herself before his associates?

The crowd he moved about with didn't hesitate in switching partners, hell, he thought, scratching his hair-roughened chest, he had done it so many times, himself.

His club was infamous for such trysts, he smiled cynically; it was one source of sure revenue. But while in the past, he would never have hesitated to talk about a woman freely or think twice before sharing her with his friends, something about Proserpina brought out the devil in him: he wanted to keep her only for himself. There was an innocence in her, an unspoiled freshness that had attracted him the instant he had seen her. She was so unlike the jaded women he met in his circles, with their pouts and come-hither looks and antics, ever eager to get into his pants if it meant