Devilishly Sexy (20 page)

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Authors: Kathy Love

BOOK: Devilishly Sexy
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“I agree that you do need to find out more about this man Liza is involved with,” Finola said after setting down her mirror and taking a long sip of her champagne. “We do need to be careful.”
Tristan nodded.
A knock sounded at the office door and Tristan crossed the room to answer it, even though he could see it was Peaches through the glass walls, and he could have just waved her in. But he himself was feeling agitated, and desire rather than champagne was his preferred method of unwinding.
As soon as he opened the door, Peaches’s attraction to him wafted over Tristan, and he breathed it in deeply like pulling in a particularly potent and intoxicating form of opium.
Peaches’s gaze fell on him, hungry despite her natural agitation at being near any of them. In the company of demons.
For some reason, the fact that she still wanted him even though she didn’t trust him, made that lust of hers all the more delicious.
He wanted her, that was for sure.
She regarded him for a moment, almost as if she was helpless to do otherwise.
“Yes,” Finola finally said, clearly impatient with her assistant’s hesitation, “what is it?”
Peaches snapped out of her daze and slipped past Tristan, making sure to keep as much space between them as possible.
She placed a folder onto Finola’s glossy white desk. “Here are the mock-ups for the special summer edition of
HOT!
Ms. McLane just dropped them off at my desk.”
Finola frowned, reaching out to slide the folder in front of her. “Why didn’t she bring them to me herself?”
Peaches shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable. “She said she wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home.”
Finola stared at her assistant for a few moments, long enough to make Peaches’s nervousness almost more palpable in the air than her desire.
Then Finola turned her pale, pale gaze on Liza’s work. She flipped through each page, pausing, studying, then moving on. Finally, after scrutinizing every page, she closed the folder.
“What do you think?” Tristan asked.
Finola flicked her wrist toward Peaches, dismissing the woman.
Peaches spun on her chunky—and so not in fashion this season—heels and hurried from the room, but not before shooting Tristan one more look.
Tristan felt himself harden painfully, his testicles drawing up tight against his groin. But he pushed his desire away, focusing on what Liza had just presented to Finola.
Again his hopes rose. Maybe the work was such garbage that Finola would finally lose her temper.
“So what do you think?” he asked, the question a little breathy with anticipation. And his lingering arousal.
Finola flipped open the folder once more and browsed through the layouts again and then, much to Tristan’s dismay—and Dippy’s too, Tristan was sure—she smiled.
A true, pleased smile.
“Well, Liza may be feeling off, and perhaps distracted by a new lover, but neither is affecting her work. These layouts are exactly what I wanted.”
Tristan forced a smile of his own. Of course they were.
Chapter Twenty-three
“W
hoa there,” Simon said as Michael entered the Wemployee break room.
“Whoa there,” Michael said back, giving the Brethren a puzzled look. “How are you today?”
“Not as good as you,” Simon said, elbowing Michael as he passed him on the way to his locker.
Michael gave him another quizzical look, confused by his friend’s knowing little smirk. “So what’s the skinny with you?”
“I think I should be the one asking you that question.” Simon then did a little dance that was more like a goofy sort of shuffle.
Michael chuckled, still completely confused by his friend’s ridiculous behavior.
“Come on,” Simon said when Michael just shook his head and opened his locker to hang up his jacket and messenger bag. “Spill.”
“What do you mean?” Michael asked, looking away from his open locker toward his friend.
Simon gave him another expectant look, then did his little dance again, this time adding a few pelvis thrusts that managed to look more silly than sexual. Simon had always been the most outrageous of The Brethren, but he was acting particularly silly this morning.
Gabriel strode into the room, followed by John.
“Good morning,” Gabriel said.
“It’s a better morning for some of us than others,” Simon said, grinning and jerking his head toward Michael.
Michael frowned again, truly not understanding Simon’s behavior. What the hell was he talking about?
Gabriel studied Michael for a moment, then lifted a surprised eyebrow.
Michael raised his own eyebrows questioningly. Why were they all acting this way?
“Well, damn, you sly dog, you,” John added, clearly understanding what was happening while Michael was still in the dark.
“Okay, guys, why don’t you let me in on what you are talking about?” Michael demanded, not enjoying being the only one in the room who had no idea what was going on. Especially when they were talking about him.
“It’s just like they say it is,” Simon chuckled. “The poor sap who’s bonded is always the last to know.”
Michael stared at Simon. “Bonded?”
His gaze moved from one of his Brethren to the next, waiting to see them all laugh at their little joke. But while each of them smiled, it wasn’t the look of a shared prank, but rather almost like proud papas.
“You are bonded, brother,” John said, stepping forward to thump him on the back.
“Unreal,” Simon said, shaking his head. “Frozen in time for decades, back for only a short amount of time, and now bonded. You are a man with a wacky life.”
His life was something all right, but Michael wasn’t sure
wacky
was the right word. Bonded? Was he really? Wouldn’t he be the first one to know?
No. That wasn’t how bonding worked. He knew that. Bonding just happened, sneaking up on the male before he realized.
But he definitely did know whom he was bonded to. Liza. Suddenly his intense feelings of desire and protectiveness and affection made sense. How could he not know? It was so obvious.
“So who is the lucky female?” John asked.
Michael blinked, coming out of his reverie, to see all his Brethren still staring at him like he was some kind of novelty. Which he supposed he was.
“Umm—” He shook his head, trying to think of something reasonable to tell them. He was reluctant to admit she was a woman who worked for
HOT!
A woman who had a soul contract on her.
He’d bonded with a woman who had a soul contract on her. The enormity of his dilemma was huge. She was the least likely female he’d ever guess a Brethren member would, or could, bond with. In fact, the only person less likely to be a Brethren member’s soul mate would be a possessed female.
Now
that
would be a huge problem.
“You—you don’t know her,” he finally offered rather lamely.
“But we’ll know her soon enough,” Simon said, grinning widely.
Michael knew that was true, but he wasn’t ready to tell them yet. He needed to sort through his own emotions before he had to explain who she was to his brothers.
John clapped a hand on Michael’s shoulder again. “We should take you out tonight to celebrate. This is a big deal.”
“Michael is bonded. Michael is bonded.” Simon began his ridiculous gyrating dance again.
John laughed and Gabriel smiled, but he also watched Michael closely. Michael smiled too, although he suspected the gesture looked forced. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what they were saying, even though he knew it was true.
After a little more ribbing and several smacks on the back, The Brethren left him to finish putting his stuff away and get ready for the day.
Only when he closed his locker and turned around, did he realize Gabriel still stood there.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Michael nodded. “Just a little—overwhelmed I guess.”
“Well, it isn’t every day that we find ourselves bonded to another person. It’s pretty intense.”
“Yes, it is. Even though it feels perfectly natural and right when it’s happening, the realization that that is what has happened ...” Michael shook his head. He didn’t even know what else to say. It was strange, because he was pleased and sure Liza was the woman for him, yet he was also—well, terrified.
“It’s definitely a lot to take in, but you’ll be surprised how easily you will come to accept it. And soon you won’t be able to recall a time before this woman came into your life.” Gabriel’s voice was low, and filled with a haunted quality.
Then Michael remembered why. How could he forget?
Clearly Gabriel hadn’t forgotten all the emotions of being bonded, although Cecilia had been taken away from him decades ago. Their bond seemed as strong today as it had been when Cecilia was alive.
That idea frightened Michael even more. What if Liza was taken from him? What if the DIA couldn’t protect her soul—or worse, get her soul back if the contract was broken?
The idea of losing her stole his breath away.
“It’s a wonderful thing,” Gabriel said then, as if he sensed his friend’s panic. “I wouldn’t give up a day with Cecilia. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Michael stared at his friend, then nodded. He knew Gabriel was right. He wouldn’t trade a moment with Liza either, even with the threat of her soul being taken away.
He would just make sure he did everything in his power to keep her safe. A soul contract wouldn’t stop his love.
 
“This plan isn’t working,” Dippy muttered from where he sat at Tristan’s feet.
Tristan leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest, watching Liza work through her slightly open office door. He’d only been tailing her for two days, and already he was bored. Aside from having a mysterious boyfriend, Liza did nothing interesting.
It was becoming hard to believe that Liza would make much of an impact if she was cast to Hell. Liza McLane was boring. Hell, even Bartoris didn’t seem to be bothering her these days.
“We have to pick someone else.”
Tristan still didn’t answer. He knew who Dippy would choose, and call him selfish, but Tristan just wasn’t willing to part with Peaches yet. At least not until he got to sample a little of that lust he felt in her.
He shouldn’t let desire affect something as important as a rebellion, but then again, he was a demon of lust. If anything was going to motivate him, it was the promise of pure ecstasy.
“I know we have to come up with someone else,” he finally said. “I’m just not sure who. I think we can get Finola to flip out over someone who would make a bigger impact on the big guy than yet another personal assistant.”
Dippy cocked his head. “I know you want to keep the little rockabilly minx for yourself.”
Tristan frowned down at his furry sidekick, somewhat surprised that he’d guessed what was making Tristan hesitate to sacrifice Peaches.
“I’m a dog,” Dippy said flatly. “You don’t even want to know the things my sense of smell can pick up. But let me just say—her arousal smells just as sweet as your little nickname for her.”
“I know,” Tristan said. Damn, did he know.
“So who should we ...” Dippy’s question trailed off as their eyes both locked on the same thing at once. The man Liza had spent the majority of her weekend with.
Tristan quickly picked up Dippy and stepped behind the wall of the closest cubicle, peeking out to see where the man went. Sure enough, he walked right to Liza’s office.
“The man she’s dating is another
HOT!
employee,” Tristan said. From the man’s blue smock, Tristan realized he must work in the mailroom.
In fact, he vaguely remembered why the guy had seemed familiar the other night. The same mailroom clerk had been watching him while he was in the boardroom a few days ago. He’d found the man’s expression curious. Almost as if the guy hated him.
But seeing him up close, Tristan had a vague feeling he’d seen him before that moment too. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of where. Maybe it was as simple as seeing the man wandering around the
HOT!
offices, delivering mail.
The man would stand out. He was rather noticeable. Tall, muscular, handsome. Not like the usual mailroom staff, who tended to be utterly forgettable.
Probably that is it, he decided, although something niggled him.
Tristan watched as Liza and the man talked. They only spoke for a few moments, then kissed, but he didn’t linger. Just a boyfriend stopping by to say a quick hello to his girl.
“Can this situation work in our favor?” Tristan pondered. When Dippy didn’t respond, Tristan stopped staring toward Liza’s office. Only then did he realize that the person who worked in the cubicle where he was hiding had returned.
The man regarded Tristan a little oddly, but didn’t say anything. Though Tristan had no clue who this man was, he knew the man was fully aware of his identity, and wouldn’t cop any attitude toward Finola White’s right-hand man and assistant editor.
Tristan simply gave the fellow a blasé look and strode away. So Liza was involved with another employee. Would that bother Finola?
“I need to think about this,” Tristan murmured.
Dippy growled, but Tristan wasn’t sure whether he agreed or disagreed. Sometimes it was good Dippy couldn’t talk freely, because Tristan didn’t feel like discussing this with him right now. He needed to think.
Something about Liza’s boyfriend bothered him.

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