The Darkest Touch

“But what I was trying to tell you,” she added, every word measured as if she didn’t want to reveal too much, “is that, while you are all of those things, you are also strong and fierce, even bloodthirsty. And while you are as tough as nails, you’re also sweet. You are a walking contradiction, and I find myself fascinated. Sometimes I’m certain you’re attracted to me, sometimes I’m not so sure, but because of your demon, I’m certain you’ll never do anything about it even if you are. That places the responsibility in my hands. I want pleasure. You’re here. You can give it to me.”

The first part of her speech heated him. The second part chilled him. He was a convenience, nothing more. “Tell me,” he gritted. “Why would I want to give pleasure to a woman who is aggravating and also defective?”

She gasped and said, “I’m not defective.”

“Princess, your temper tantrums make you as defective as an open-ended condom.” He couldn’t help but add, “But you are fun and witty, fragile and yet amazingly stalwart. You are dangerous to every rule I’ve ever set for myself. And you are also smoking hot. I like looking at you, too.”

Her jaw dropped.

“What? If you tell me no one’s ever waxed poetic about how beautiful you are, I will personally hunt down everyone you’ve ever met and call them an idiot.”

“Smoking hot?” Her hand fluttered to the pulse now hammering in her neck. “Really?”

Get this runaway train back on the track. “But I have to refuse your oh, so generous offer. Make-out sessions, no matter how tame, will put your life at risk.” As if he could be tame with her. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you barely recovered from the first sickness.”

“But—”

“No buts. I hated watching you writhe in pain. Hated hearing you cry out for mercy you’d never receive. You’re better now, but who knows if you’d recover a second time.”

She shifted in her chair, her gaze locked on him and chilling. “Are you trying to politely tell me you didn’t enjoy touching me?”

The demon banged against his skull, shouting obscenities, still determined to leave her.

“No. I’m not politely trying to tell you anything. I don’t do polite. Haven’t you noticed?” The situation would have been a hell of a lot easier if he could have stripped away his conscience and lied to her, but nooo. To anyone else, sure. But not to her.

A ray of sunlight filtered in through the window.

“Do you ever think about touching me?” she asked, hesitant.

All. The. Damned. Time. “Princess, I burn for you.” Let there be no misunderstanding between them on that score.

She inched down her chair until her knees brushed against his, and he had to swallow a nearly animalistic roar. Had to grip the table to keep from reaching for her...but the edge of it snapped off, too.

Another gasp left her...one of surprise, maybe even of arousal.

“But you need to think about the ramifications before we travel this route.” Damn it! From a definite no to this? “Accidents could happen, even if my gloves are in place and we both remain fully dressed. Also, your expectations might be too high.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? Too high?”

He wasn’t going to explain, had too much pride, and waved his hand through the air. “Yes or no. Are you willing to take a chance?”

What the hell am I doing?

There wasn’t a single beat of hesitation from her. “Yes,” she said with a nod. “I am.”

He subdued the urge to yank her into his lap. He needed to plan the best way to proceed...to see to her needs without harming her.

“Now that the payment plan has been established...” She straightened, suddenly all business, and asked, “How many friends are missing?”

“Two. Three if you know how to track spirits of the dead.” Torin had been searching for the former keeper of Distrust ever since he’d learned Baden’s spirit was still out there, trapped in another realm. “He was killed several centuries ago.”

“I track spirits the same way I track everyone else. Easily.” She hooked a lock of hair behind her ear, so inherently feminine Torin’s deepest masculine instincts responded. As usual. “I will expect the same payment.”

He would pay her. He would pay her so hard.

No, gently. Have to proceed gently with her. He would rather die than scare her, hurt her, or make her regret her desire for him. “You’ll get it.”

Gaze intent, she said, “That’s it? Only three tasks?”

Hoping for more payment? In too deep already. But still he replied, “One other, if possible. Locate and destroy Pandora’s box.”

“DimOuniak, you mean.”

The “official” name. He nodded.

She thought for a moment. “I can do that, too. Which task would you like me to start with?”

“Cameo and Viola.”

The drumming of her nails started up again. “Are they your girlfriends?”

Jealous?

The idea turned him on.

Oh, what a shocker. It wasn’t like everything about her turned him on or anything.

“No,” he said.

“Good. What happened to them?”

“They touched something they shouldn’t have and vanished.”

“I need more details.”

“Do you know what the Paring Rod is?” he asked.