Sweet Temptation (28 page)

“Keep my eyes open, my lips sealed.

My heart closed, and my ears peeled.”

—“Hurricane” by MS MR

I
drive through the night, stopping only once for petrol and coffee. Each time a text comes from Father I reprogram my GPS with the new information. I cannot wait to get to Anna. To see her safe, with my own eyes. I'm desperate to have her out of their sights. After a while I think something must have happened with the Neph tailing her, because the updates from Father simply stop and only whisperer sightings are being given now.

Father's whisperer has been a nasty thorn in my side for far too many hours now. It keeps whispering excitedly about all the foul things it wants me to do to the “Neph girl,” things I've never done to anyone. I try hard to keep from shuddering.

“I'm not into Neph,” I tell it. “I'm not planning to stay all day.”

It begins a breathy whine in my ear.
“But—”

“No. Just a quick job—nothing for your entertainment.”

It proceeds to throw a tantrum, stiffly flying from the car and bashing into the earth, out of sight, then back up, kicking at cars and flailing its grubby arms at trees as it passes them. What an idiot.

As I'm driving through Wythe County, in the mountains of southwestern Virginia, I see a whisperer swoop down in the grassy median to relay something to the other. It then flies to me, right in my face. I lean to the side, keeping an eye on the road. I can't stand the cold sensation when they touch me.

“Blacksburg,”
it whispers creepily. I nod. I'm not too far from her now.

I've been trying to figure out for hours what I'll do when I get to her. How will she react? With the whisperer there, we'll have to pretend we hardly know each other. If Anna cries or tries to hug me, or does anything remotely Anna-ish, we're as good as dead.

Our biggest chance of making it through this is to somehow lose the whisperer, and based on how closely he's been at my side, that will be difficult. The only other thing I can think to do is get her under the covers and pretend to shag her. That, however, could be awkward for poor Anna, and very,
very
difficult for me, especially if we're naked.

You can do it
, I tell myself. I just hope she'll play along with whatever I decide. I grip the wheel and take a cleansing breath as the murky whisperer leads me to Anna.

It's early in the morning. The sun has risen, but the town is still sleepy. I park outside the hotel and listen while the whisperer circles the car. Anna is stirring, her murmuring breaths sounding as if she's not sleeping very soundly. When the whisperer ventures away from me for a moment, like a dog sniffing around, I whip out my phone and pull up Anna's contact info:
Hot Chick From Gig
. Before I can type a word, the whisperer is back and I quickly close the screen.

“What are you doing?”
it asks. Damn it.

“Seeing if I missed any messages,” I mutter out loud. “But I haven't.”

“Let's go.”

Bugger. I hate being here, so close to her, under these pretenses. It kills me not to warn her. I get out of the car and note exactly where it's parked and where the nearest exit is. I walk with purpose, fighting to keep my cool as my spirit escort flies up and down beside me. His wing keeps swiping my back and I grit my teeth. I desperately search each room of the hotel with my hearing, but everyone is sleeping or doing boring morning things.

Then my senses snag on something in one of the first-floor rooms. Something that sounds like it's just getting started. Something right up this whisperer's alley. It's better than I could have hoped. I take the long way around so we can pass that room on our way. I take note of the number on the door: 108.

This is a long shot. My first instinct is to distract the demon right away, but Father will be extremely suspicious if he learns I sent his whisperer away before the job had even begun. The
spirit has to see me with Anna. He has to think we're having sex. And then, if I'm lucky, I can convince him to leave, to take in the more exciting events of room 108.

I head up the stairs, my pulse at an all-time high, and I knock on Anna's door. Inside, I hear her go still. Abruptly, she begins scrambling and shuffling through her things like mad.

Don't be frightened
, I want to say.
Trust me, Anna. Play along.

Anna whispers suspiciously, “Who is it?”

“Kaidan Rowe. Son of Pharzuph.” Impersonal. Formal.
Please take the hint, luv.

I hear the quick pad of her footsteps to the door and I'm filled with fear that she's going to fling it open and jump into my arms. I'm immensely relieved when she stops at the door without opening it. “What do you want?” she asks. She's being smart.

“I need to speak with you. Open up.”

When she doesn't open, the whisperer hisses a harsh curse in my ear and I'm filled with loathing for the stupid, impatient spirit.

“I'm not here to hurt you,” I say. It comes out sterner than I meant it to.

After a long pause the door opens enough to show Anna's beautiful, fresh face. Her eyes soften just slightly when she sees that it's really me, then widen when she catches sight of the whisperer over my shoulder. She doesn't move.

Anna knows something's up. Good. Because it's about to get real, and I need her to put on a show. I need her to pretend with me, one on one. Enough to convince the idiot bobbing behind me, foaming at the mouth.

I grasp the edge of the door above her head and push it open, forcing Anna to step back into the room. I scan her when she's in my sight—from her messy morning hair to the knife and another thing clenched in her fists.

I first cover her knife hand with mine and pry her fingers open. She gives a slight gasp as I relieve her of the weapon and slip it into my pocket. Then I reach for the other hand . . . a torch? Or, rather,
flashlight
to Americans. It's hardly big enough to use as a weapon, but I suppose it's better than her bare hand. I drop it to the floor and close the door behind me, still moving her forward until I have her against the wall. She glances toward the whisperer, then back to me. I have to ignore the hurt and fear in her eyes and get her to focus solely on me.

Her breathing goes a bit ragged as she stares up at me. I remind my body this is not for real, but it responds excitedly all the same. She puts her warm palms on the rise of my chest, and pushes me back with a fierce look in her eyes.

“Back off, son of Pharzuph.”

I feel a wicked smile spread across my face because she's figured it out and she's playing along. She's the most sexy and spectacular creature on earth.

Let's do this, Anna.

“I'm only here as a precaution,” I tell her. “To be sure our little daughter of Belial is behaving properly.”

It's vital that she knows what's at stake and that she trusts me for what's to come. Anna's breath hitches and her eyes widen as if she's frantically searching for something to say.

“I heard you don't even like Neph girls.”

I laugh and jerk my head to the side, flicking the hair from my eyes. Then I close the space between us. “I don't. But I'm willing to make sacrifices for the greater evil.”

Don't show innocence
, I want to beg her.
Be hard. Be tough. Act like you don't care.

“So, what are you saying?” she asks with attitude. “The Dukes don't think I'm working? Is that why they're sending every Neph to question me and fight me?”

Fight her? I was under the impression she hadn't had any contact with the other Neph. Bloody hell.

“Just covering all the bases,” I tell her. “They know you're pushing alcohol, but you weren't exactly a well-rounded worker at that summit, yeah?”

Her eyes flash with indignant anger. “That was a year and a half ago. I'm
very
well rounded now.”

“Prove it.”

I press her hard against the wall and slant my mouth over hers. She lets out the tiniest yelp of pain, and I have to stop myself from backing off to see if she's all right. I wasn't being gentle, but I also hadn't been rough enough to hurt her. I move past the awkward pause and focus again on her mouth. Anna's hands go to my chest. Her nails dig in and grasp my T-shirt.
That's it, Anna.

The side of my body chills like it's been hit by a cold breeze, and a wet, bubbling sound of ecstasy fills my head. Fucking demon. Anna cringes and I turn to glare at the spirit, who's right in my face.

“Bit of a turnoff when you do that,” I say through clenched teeth. “Mind shutting up?”

I hope it will back off long enough for us to give a decent show before I attempt to send it away. I take Anna's warm mouth again, but I'm finding it hard to focus on the charade. I want to savor my girl, and I can't think like that right now. I have to think of this like a job. Like a random hookup.

I can't let myself feel for her right now.

I kiss her harder. She doesn't melt into me like she usually does, but she's not pushing me away, so I press on. Father's whisperer is not going to want me to take my time with Anna. I have to get to business.

My shirt comes off first. I'm craving her touch all over my bare skin, but she's acting sort of stunned by what's happening. When I reach for the hem of her T-shirt, her arms automatically lock down to her body.

C'mon, Anna . . . trust me.

With a resigned expression, she raises her arms and I tug the shirt over her head, then our bodies are together again. Oh, God. No bra. She's bare-chested. For the first time, I can feel the soft and taut parts of her touching my own skin. Her arms go around my neck, tight with tension. I release a series of curses in my mind. I want to look down. I know, I'm a pig, but I'm dying to see every bit of her. However, she's as stiff as a board, so I pretend her naked chest is no big deal to me—not worth checking out.

It's time to take this to the next level by removing more clothing. I continue to hope Anna won't throw on the brakes.

Just a bit longer
, I want to tell her.

But the biggest part of this show hasn't even happened yet.

I kiss down her neck to her shoulder and slide my hot hands
down her back. My fingers easily push past the elastic of her sleeping shorts, and then her underwear, until I'm cupping her bare arse.

This is the most perfectly fucked-up moment of my life, because having her ass in my hands is heaven, and I should not feel that way right now. My body is so overcome I can't move. She's mine and I want her.

Then I remember that my most heavenly moment is being closely scrutinized by a demon.

Still overcome, I manage to say, “Take them off.”

Anna freezes. We don't look at each other. We have about two seconds to make this look believable—two seconds before she reacts or I rip them off myself.

“You don't have to be such an ass!” she snaps.

That fiery voice is just what I need to hear. She is livid, but still playing along. Anna will not strip herself, so I will do it for her. A dark part of me is loving every minute of this—thrilled that I will finally be naked with Anna Whitt, even if it won't lead to sex. I turn her and push her onto the bed, refusing to look at her face as I kneel above her. Before she's settled I grab the material at her beautiful hips and pull it down her legs.

A single sight catches my eye and puts the dark part of me to rest. There's a bruise on her thigh, and as I pull her shorts the rest of the way off, I see a series of purple-greenish markings down her calves. I stop breathing. My sweet girl has been injured.

Badly.

Fury burns like heated coals under my skin. Who did this to her?

The whisperer gurgles and flies over us, excited. I can't stop to demand answers. With great effort I force myself not to stare at her bruises, or her breasts, or . . . well, anywhere.

I move off the bed and stand at the end. She stares hard at me as I unclasp my belt and unbutton my shorts. I'm trying very hard not to look at her body. I want to, desperately, but not like this. However, I'm more than happy to let her see all of me.

It doesn't happen. As soon as I'm nearly naked, her eyes shift and I'm quite proud to see the look of Neph nonchalance on her face. But I also know her well enough to notice the set of her jaw jutting out—a sign she's trying not to cry. And behind that glazed expression I can see her hurt, her fear.

I've hurt her. I'm
scaring
her. Does she think I'm going to do this, for real? If she thinks that, I will stab my own damn self with her sword. She has to know I would
never
force myself on her. Anna's opinion of me is the only one in the world that matters.

I have to get rid of the damn spirit so I can explain. Just another minute more.