The Darkest Touch

Whoever was responsible had not left any sign of his—or her—identity. And though the changes were nice, they infuriated her. Her sanctuary had been invaded without her permission.

The roof above her rattled. The walls beside her and the floor beneath her, too.

Princess has to get her way or everyone suffers.

You choose not to control it.

Torin’s words haunted her. She breathed in...out...forced her mind to focus on positive things. She could take a long, steamy shower. She could dress to kill. Then she could return to Torin and make him hard for another four days. And no matter how long he begged, she wouldn’t touch him! She would deny him as he seemed to enjoy denying her.

Just like that, the rattling ceased.

Maybe she could control the reaction, after all.

Keeley puttered through the entire cave, searching for security issues—finding none. That meant her benefactor could flash, which narrowed the list of zero suspects to...zero. She had no friends, no family.

Perhaps a foe?

But why would a foe help her?

Ponder it later. She showered as imagined, using her favorite soaps and oils, each fragranced with wildflowers and almonds. Though she would have welcomed a nap, her first in ages, her mystery provider had nixed the possibility. She couldn’t take the chance someone would sneak up on her while she was helpless.

She dressed in a baby-blue top to match her eyes, the straps held together by—she was just guessing here—a wish, as well as a pair of short shorts, then completed the outfit with diamond-crusted cowgirl boots. Not bad. A little fun, a lot sexy.

I hope you choke on your desire for me, Torin!

“I’m glad you’re here. And looking so good.”

That voice...like taking a baseball bat to the head.

Slowly she turned to face the unwelcome intruder. Hades. Of course. Because that was the cherry topping on her melting sundae of a day.

He was every bit as beautiful as she recalled—no, more so. He seemed taller, more muscular. Dark and sleek. Wearing a black suit paired with a crisp white shirt and a red tie, he was an object of class and sophistication, as if he’d never known a moment of pain or suffering.

Maybe he hadn’t.

But he would. Soon.

The urge to strike was immediate and strong, but she resisted. In war, there were times for battle and times for planning. Yes, she knew the final outcome she desired, but the road to get there needed work. There was no room for error with this man. Especially since she could feel the heat of multiple brimstone scars pulsing off him.

“Why did you redecorate my home?” she demanded.

“To make it prettier when you returned.”

Like he’d ever expected her to return. “It was fine how it was. I want my gowns.”

His smile was slow to come, but sunlight-bright when it reached full wattage. “There’s my Keeleycael. The woman who used to ask me to fetch her ice cream, only to yell at me for allowing her to eat it.”

A girl had to watch her caloric intake— Realization struck. “I’m not your Keeleycael,” she snarled.

“Are you sure? This sounds like nagging.”

“I’m not a nag. I’m a motivational speaker. But I can guess why you did what you did. You used my place as a love shack. Admit it.”

“I have no need of more love shacks, pet. I have them scattered all over the world.”

“I am not your pet.” The urge to strike him intensified. “But how brave of you,” she sneered. “Deciding to come to me yourself for once, rather than sending your minions.”

He waved away the implied insult and unveiled the lazy smile that had once melted her heart—and her panties. “You are exquisite, pet. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you...missed you...craved you in my arms.”

How dare he! As calmly as she was able, she said, “Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you, too—on the floor, your chest split open, your internal organs forming a burning circle around you.”

Smile taking on a sardonic edge, he said, “Is that what it would take to win you back?”

Win her back? As if! “You lied to me, poisoned me, tricked me and ensured my imprisonment. We’re past the point of second chances.”

“I never poisoned you,” he said with a frown.

“Then why was I always in a fog?” The answer seemed to download straight into her brain. The bond...his darkness. She’d fed from him on a daily basis; he’d known nothing about the fog.

Fine. One crime to strike from his ledger.

The bond with Torin did not cause any kind of fogginess—only an increase in arousal.

“Never mind,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. I’m older. Wiser. There is nothing you could do to change my terrible opinion of you.” Besides, he didn’t even want her. Not really. I’m worth a barrel of whiskey to him.

Like Torin, he only wanted something from her.

“Keeleycael—”

“No!” she shouted. “Don’t call me that.” I’m not that foolish girl anymore. Forcing her tone to calm once again, she said, “Is this a continuation of your plan to weaken me? To keep me from becoming more powerful than you?”

He walked through the space, tracing his fingertip over the countertop in the kitchen—

Her stomach gave an embarrassing grumble. “Because it’s already too late.”

—and lifting one of the knickknacks he’d given her.