Devilishly Sexy (11 page)

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Authors: Kathy Love

BOOK: Devilishly Sexy
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“Now leave,” Finola said, waving a hand toward the door. “I have important things to do, like meeting Donald Trump for lunch.”
Liza retrieved the mock-ups of her work, recalling a time when she’d gone to lunches like that. When she’d run this magazine. Of course, she still did. Finola just took all the credit.
More frustration filled her.
See, I told you she was a bigger bitch than I am.
For once, Liza was inclined to agree with Boris.
It’s Bartoris.
Chapter Eleven
F
inola didn’t speak until the heavy glass door of her office closed behind Liza McLane.
“I don’t like how she is acting.”
Tristan wheeled the mirror back behind the screen, then strode across the room to lean against the edge of Finola’s desk.
“She is getting a little rebellious.”
Finola nodded, her gaze distant as she thought. “I actually think Bartoris has become a detriment.”
Tristan had always thought the relatively weak trickster demon was annoying. He could only imagine what it would be like to be possessed by him. His voice alone would be enough to drive anyone insane.
He started to say exactly that, but thought better of it. Having Finola irritated with Liza McLane and Bartoris could be a good thing.
“Well, we need some way to keep McLane in check and working for the magazine. She wasn’t willing to sell her soul, so possession was the only way to keep her here.”
He waited, allowing Finola’s thoughts to head in the very direction he wanted them to.
“I’m not sure we need her as much as we once did,” Finola said. “After all, I know fashion, and you are becoming quite proficient at many of the things Liza does. The layouts, the articles. Your work is very, very good.”
Tristan bowed his head, offering the meekness Finola so loved. He found it easier to do that these days, knowing he wouldn’t have to do it much longer.
“Perhaps you are right,” Tristan agreed. “Maybe both McLane and Bartoris are more work than they are worth.”
Finola nodded. “It is something to think about, but right now I need to run. The Donald is flying us to Maine for lobster.”
Tristan made an impressed face, although he was barely listening to her.
“Will you watch Dippy while I’m away? I would bring him, but the precious boy doesn’t care for air travel.”
Tristan feigned a mild look of disgust, but nodded. “You know I will. Even though I will never fathom why you love that mangy creature so much.”
The mangy creature in question lifted his head from his jewel-encrusted bed, blinking his small, sleepy eyes.
“Oh, my little poopsie is not mangy,” Finola cooed at the beast. “He’s my perfect little boy.”
Tristan made another face, then told Finola to have a wonderful time as she gathered her purse and coat and rushed out of the office on a wave of white and gardenias.
He walked over to the door, watching her departure through the glass. Once she was gone from sight, he turned back to look for Dippy. The hellhound was no longer in his dog bed, but sitting in Finola’s desk chair, regarding Tristan with his small but intelligent eyes.
“So we have a potentially perfect target for Finola’s last victim,” Tristan said with a smug smile.
“McLane could be perfect, but we just have to be sure that when Finola takes her soul, it is over something that will make Satan truly furious. An indisputable breach of Hell’s laws.”
Tristan nodded. “Yes. We definitely have to make sure it is the final straw for Satan. McLane is getting rebellious, which can only work in our favor. But it will take a little planning.”
It would take some planning and a bit more time, but Tristan did like the option of McLane best. That way not only would Finola be out of the way, but so would the real editor-in-chief of
HOT!
That would leave him and Dippy to rule the demon rebellion and make Tristan the sole editor of
HOT!
He liked the idea of being completely in charge of both.
Yes, Liza McLane was the best candidate to lose her soul.
 
Michael was starting to wonder if being in a state of suspended animation for over thirty years had done something to his brain.
But he couldn’t stop wondering why Liza had reacted that way last night. Part of him could believe it was just a one-night stand. Hell, the seventies had been all about one-night stands. But he just didn’t think that was the kind of woman Liza McLane was. She also wasn’t the kind of woman who would just coldly kick a man out. His gut told him that. And he always followed his gut.
So why? That was what he couldn’t stop thinking about. Why had she reacted like that? He had to know. It was going to eat at him until he talked to her.
“Shit.”
Elton slowed down pushing the mail cart to look back at Michael.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just realized I forgot my—my phone, you know, cell phone, down in the mailroom.”
Elton regarded him for a moment, then said, “Well, you better go back and get it.”
Michael smiled, knowing the old seer didn’t believe him in the slightest, and Michael liked him all the more for accepting his lame excuse.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Elton said.
Michael smiled to himself as he strode off, not back to the mailroom, but toward the elevators to go to the fifteenth floor.
Once up there, Michael realized that the receptionist in the front lobby might not allow him into the main offices. But that was where the awful blue mailroom coat and his mailroom ID badge came in very helpful.
“Hi,” he said, greeting the attractive blond receptionist, “I need to go back to pick up a package from Liza McLane.”
The blonde smiled warmly at him. “Sure.”
Well, it was true; no one found the mailroom staff suspicious.
Michael thanked her and headed through the huge double doors that led into the glowing red maze of offices, cubicles, and frantically busy employees.
He paused once inside, trying to remember exactly where he’d seen Liza yesterday. He wasn’t sure where her office was, but it had to be near the spot where she’d come racing toward them with the envelope to be mailed.
He moved to the offices on the right. Carefully, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than necessary, he began searching. Even though he was large and hard to miss, his warrior training had taught him how to blend in, to move stealthily.
He peeked into first one office, then another. No sign of her. For a moment, he debated if this was such a good idea. Was there really any point in trying to talk to Liza? She had categorically told him to leave. Maybe that was all she had to say and he was just going to make a fool of himself.
But still he found himself looking in yet another office, and this time it was as if destiny answered him. There, sitting at a cluttered desk, her eyes closed, her head resting against the back of her office chair, was Liza.
He remained in the doorway, simply taking in the sight of her. She had such a strong effect on him, he innately knew this was the woman he needed to be with. He simply knew it, and he also knew deep in his heart, she wanted to be with him too.
So whether she liked it or not, they were going to discuss what had happened last night.
He took a deep breath, because he, a member of The Brethren, a demon slayer, was actually nervous. He straightened to his full height and raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could connect, he noticed she was speaking, her voice muffled, but clearly agitated.
Talking to herself again.
He also noticed she looked wan and tired. He wanted to take that weariness away from her. He wanted to shoulder her burden. If she would just let him.
Then he watched as she blurted something out, real anger and frustration evident on her face.
She needed him.
 
You should be working.
Liza ignored Boris, too tired, too stressed, and too depressed to care about work. She couldn’t handle this anymore. And all she wanted was to go back to last night and when she was safe and content in Michael’s arms.
Mmm, I’d like that too.
“Please just shut up. Please.”
Tears blurred her eyes, and she willed herself to hold them back. Her chest tightened and she struggled to pull in a calming breath. She wouldn’t fall apart, afraid if she did, she’d never get herself back together.
But dear God, she felt as if she’d finally hit her breaking point. After years of living this way, just one night had showed her the one thing that could make this existence truly unbearable.
Having to let Michael go. That was it. Not being able to see where a relationship with a man like that could go. She wanted to scream with frustration.
“It’s so stupid. So stupid. It was just one night.” Why had Michael had such an effect on her?
Because you never get laid.
“Just shut up!”
“Liza?”
Liza started, looking toward the door, seeing Michael there. Great, now not only did she have voices in her head, but she was seeing things as well.
But then logic kicked in. She wasn’t seeing things, Michael was really there, in the doorway of her office. She shouldn’t be that surprised to see the man; they did work for the same company. She just didn’t think after her harsh dismissal, he’d actually seek her out. Honestly, she’d expected him to avoid her like the plague.
But he was there, watching her have a breakdown, if his concerned expression was any indication.
“Are you okay?”
Oh yeah, he’d seen.
She pulled in a deep breath and swiped her fingers over her eyes, praying he couldn’t see that she’d been dangerously close to crying. Hopefully he would just think she was tired. She
was
tired, so, so tired.
“I’m fine,” she managed, although not as believably as she would have liked.
Why was he here? Then she noted his mailroom smock. He was working, and she was probably being arrogant to believe he was actually here to see her.
“I don’t have any mail to go out at the moment,” she said, busying herself with the papers on her desk. She didn’t even know what she was doing with them; she just needed to have something to do. Something to focus on, besides the man she couldn’t have. Anything to keep from melting down completely.
Oh dear God, please do hold it together. The only drama I enjoy is my own.
She ignored Boris, shuffling her papers more determinedly.
But after a moment she realized her office was silent. Had he simply left when he saw she had no letters to be mailed? She looked up, both relieved and troubled to find he was still there. In fact, he now stood a foot or so from her desk, watching her with those gorgeous green and golden-brown eyes of his.
“Liza, we need to talk.”
She took another deep breath. “About?”
“About last night,” he said as if she were a complete dolt.
She began shuffling her piles of paper again, suspecting that she looked like she didn’t know what she was doing. Which she didn’t.
“I’m not really sure what happened,” he said, “but I do think you owe me some sort of explanation.”
God, how could he sound so rational when she felt as if she was losing more of her sanity with each passing second?
“Liza, please, talk to me.”
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Michael’s hand reaching out to still her agitated shuffling.
She couldn’t let him touch her. Boris wasn’t going to have any part of this.
Before his fingers reached her, she jerked her chair backward, so hard the back hit the wall behind her.
“Please, don’t touch me.”
Party pooper. Let me sneak a peek.
Shut up, she hissed mentally. She focused on Michael, who gaped at her, clearly shocked by her violent, erratic reaction.
“What the hell is wrong?” Michael asked, and she could tell he was finally seeing her behavior as disturbing. Who could blame him?
“Michael. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quavering. “I know I’m acting crazy, but you have to believe me, I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?” He stared at her, clearly feeling helpless.
“This.” She gestured back and forth between the two of them. “You and me. I’m sorry about last night. I never should have invited you home with me. I thought I could handle it, but I realize now I can’t. I’m just not in a position to be with any man.”
But especially one I could potentially fall in love with, she told herself.
Really? You are talking about love? Already? Leave it to you to turn a perfectly good one-night stand into a grand love affair. Damn, you are so provincial.
Liza gritted her teeth.
“Liza,” Michael said, stepping closer. “I think you’d be surprised how much I could understand if you would just talk to me.”
Why was he so nice?
He is nice. I’m already bored with this one.
Michael stepped closer. Liza scrambled out of her chair, pushing it between herself and him, knowing again her reaction must seem extreme to him.

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