Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3) (8 page)

Silently, she examined him. Strong jaw. Long
black hair. Beautiful silver-gray eyes. Wide kissable mouth. She
loved to see him smile.

The thought came from nowhere but she
recognized the truth of it. He was handsome. Like a rogue or a bad
boy or even a modern-day pirate. That was what she had been unable
to put her finger on at their first meeting. Never had she met a
man who looked so… untamable. And yet he was so gentle with her.
Her mind couldn’t reconcile it.

He pegged her with a hard gaze. “Promise me…
when you get hungry, you’ll feed. Order a cocktail if you need to.
Put it on my tab. Grab your chips and come find me. Just
drink.”

His words were arrows, popping the word
balloons in her brain. “My chips.” She scrambled to her knees, her
gaze sweeping the room.

The demon caught her around her waist and
settled her onto his lap. She had to find them. That was her ticket
into the tournament and she did not have enough.

“Izzy.” He clasped her chin in his right hand
and held her immobile. Her heart thundered in her ribs. She never
should have taken V’s car out of the garage.

“Izzy… shh… I had them put your winnings in
the vault. It’s safe,
mausi.
”

Had he just called her a mouse?

“Your money is safe,” he assured her.

She saw the calm, steady truth in his eyes
and relaxed a fraction. Safe. Thank God. Relief made her melt
against him. She was so tired. Physically exhausted and mentally
tired. How did she always manage to get herself into such messes?
Her mother said she led with her heart. Which was true. Even when
she tried not to.

But right now she felt safe. Was she still
leading with her heart where he was concerned? In Shade’s arms, she
felt like the past did not matter and the future would take care of
itself. Why was that? Was it him; his strength feeding her? Or his
blood…

“You did good tonight,” he murmured, resting
his chin against the top of her head.

She let out a long sigh, one that had been
building for hours. “Not good enough. I’m still short.”

“Hey now, no short jokes, my little
mausi
.”

She laughed, despite her frustration.

“I do not have enough to enter the
tournament. And I am tired.” She rolled her shoulders.

“So you’ll rest. And shower. And then you’ll
be refreshed and ready to face the world.”

That sounded like a brilliant plan.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and
stared up at him. “Why are you being so nice?” And more
importantly, why wasn’t she running away from the intimacy? Her two
previous relationships had ended in a broken heart and near death.
She sure knew how to pick men…
Which was what worried her.
Right now he might seem nice, but the shoe may not fit
tomorrow.

“Didn’t we already cover this?”

“Yes.” She scooted to the middle of the bed
and leaned against the padded leather headboard. “But I have not
met anyone so… generous.” Except, perhaps Valencia. And Coco. “So
ungreedy.”

“And you are worried I’ll turn into an
ogre?”

She nodded.

He gave her a grin that sent her heart
racing. She heard his shoes fall to the floor and then he settled
himself next to her. The mattress gave and she rolled toward him
until their shoulders bumped.

“I’m already a demon, but not the kind you’re
imagining. And I’m plenty greedy,
mausi
. You just don’t know
me well enough yet.”

Yet? She liked the sound of that. “Greedy men
do not take care of others and wish nothing for return.” She should
know. She’d been surrounded by greedy men as a child.

His smile disappeared. “How do you know I
want nothing in return?”

She stared up at him, searched his eyes for
the truth. “I do not. What do you want in return?”

The corners of his oh-so-kissable mouth
turned up. “Nothing.”

She knocked her shoulder against his. “Thank
you. For stopping when I wrecked. And taking me in from the sun.
And feeding me.”

“You’re most welcome, Isadora.”

“I like the way my name sounds when you say
it. I think it is your accent.”

“My accent? What about yours. With your eets
and theeses and those Ls.” He reached over and laced his fingers
with hers. She snuggled against him and soaked him in. This was
nice. It had been almost three years since she’d snuggled with a
man, but it felt so much longer.

“So tell me about you. Why is there no Mrs.
Shade?”

“Why is there no Mr. Izzy?”

She huffed out a breath. “You evade the
question. Okay. How did you meet Pierre?”

Shade wrapped his arm around her shoulders,
pulling her against his side. She felt small, feminine and
protected, which was a far cry from how she’d felt with her last —
well, Shade wasn’t her boyfriend.

“I saved his life, a long time ago. He’s been
with me since. He thinks he owes me.”

“We both do.”

“No you don’t,” he said quickly. “I didn’t
save him because I expected anything from him. I did it because it
was the right thing to do.”

“You like him.” She could hear it in his
voice. There was a trace of befuddlement and friendship.

“He’s fun to have around. Someone to talk to,
and I like to keep him on his toes.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He stretched out, pulling her down with him.
She pressed a palm against his chest and rested her cheek against
his shoulder. He covered her hand with his, warming her. “It’s the
demon in me. I love a good joke.”

“Knock-knock jokes?”

“I hid all the salt and pepper shakers in the
back of my closet. He spent a week tracking those down. That wasn’t
one of my more brilliant ideas. My food was horrid that week.” He
made a face. “One time, I turned every painting upside down. Took
him half a day to fix them.” He chuckled and the sound rumbled in
his chest.

She swatted his stomach but he only laughed
harder. “You are mean to an old man.”

“Like I said, it keeps him on his toes. How
boring would life be if there was not spice, eh?”

Spice. Was that what made her do silly,
unplanned things? Was she looking for spice?

“Do you not play games on your friends?
Family?” he asked.

“No. My family was not the game type.”
Perhaps if they had been, she would not have gotten into trouble or
been so susceptible to other’s idea of fun. “My father was a
wealthy man. Important. We took family vacations once per year. But
we did not play.”

“Where did you go?”

“To the beach. Skiing. Wherever he could fit
in a meeting.”

“Working vacations.”

She nodded. “My favorite trip was to Italy.
My father’s meeting canceled and mother talked him into a boat
ride. With the big—wing.” She drew the shape in the air with her
finger.

“Sailboat?”

“Yes. I still remember the big, floppy hat
she wore. She chased me around the whole week, squirting sun-lotion
on me. I burned easily. I still do.”

“Sounds like a good vacation.”

“It was.” She nestled against him. “I miss
that feeling.”

She wanted to bite the words back, trying to
sit up but he held her to him. Such strong arms, to escape she’d
need to use force. But—

“What feeling?”

She pursed her lips. But he eyed her
solemnly. She caved.

“Being cared for.”

“What about your coven mates? I’m sure they
take care of you.”

“Yes,” she said; her gaze far off. “But not
the way you do.”

“I like taking care of you.”

“And I like being cared for.”

Craning her neck, she met his gaze. Back and
forth, they stared at each other. Silent. Immobile. Slowly, she
dropped her gaze to his lips, parted the slightest bit. Her chest
rose and fell with the steady rhythm of her breathing but she was
aware of each life-giving breath. Acutely aware of how close they
were, of the fact that they were sharing the same air. The same
space.

The intimacy kicked up another notch when he
whispered her name again. The delicious sound unraveled her
reserve.

She rolled toward him; lay half sprawled
across his torso. Just a kiss. A quick brush of the lips. Just to
know what it felt like. Awake this time. Completely awake with all
her senses firing.

He cocked his head to the side as if gauging
the situation. But then he lifted his head, obviously feeling the
same incredible pull, and paused, a hair’s width away.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

Stop?

Izzy tightened her grip on the collar of his
shirt, feeling completely unbalanced. After she’d settled into the
life of a vampire, she’d forced herself to meet a man and end up in
his bed. Facing the fear had been the best medicine and the
handsome vampire had helped erase some of the pain. After that, sex
had been fun and recreational.

This felt like something more. Like she could
forget to keep her heart locked away. Like he could make her want
more than a night or two.

Her body’s reaction to him was off the
charts… sensitive, hyperaware, and wet. Very wet.

It was a good thing he tightened his grip on
her because she was quickly becoming a melty pile of vamp. While
she normally didn’t mind if a man could make her forget time and
place, longed for it even, something told her to keep her wits
about her. Shade wasn’t her average lover. And she needed to be on
top of her game for the tournament.

But knowing what was best and being able to
tell him to stop were two very different things. She didn’t want to
stop. Not one little bit.

His grip loosened on her chin and slid down
her jaw. Fingers spearing into her hair, he trailed his thumb over
her cheek. Her breathing became shallow and slow.

“Izzy…”

She licked her lips and he groaned. If she
was smart she would back away from him now. He was a complication
she did not have time for. But oh, how she wanted to make the time.
Needed to feel the urgency in his kiss.

For the first time she understood what Coco
had meant when she expressed how drawn to Grayson she was. How much
she’d needed to see where things went. How complete he made her
feel.

Unlike Coco and Grayson, who met a century
ago on a battlefield, she’d known Shade a day or two. But that did
not alter how drawn to him she was. And she had never felt this way
with anyone else, demon, vamp, or human.

She’d closed her eyes and shook her head,
unable to say the word he wanted to hear. She did not want to stop.
Not now.

Shade couldn’t stop thinking that she didn’t
know what she was getting herself into. And he felt guilty for
getting her hopes up. Guilty and… pleased that as long as she was
here for the tournament, he could have her to himself. Luc was
right. He was a bastard.

She was so small in his arms. Petite and
feminine, her curves fitting against him like cheese melted over a
hamburger. And cold. He relished that. Again he found himself
thinking that she was the perfect foil for him. Small to his large.
Cold to his hot. Sweet to his savory.

Tell me to stop, sweetheart. Just say the
word.
Give me the strength I can’t find on my own.

But she didn’t utter a word. Didn’t do
anything more than breathe. Shade groaned. She was sexy even as she
sucked air into her lungs. Perhaps that was the problem. Maybe she
was stealing every last bit of the oxygen from the room. That would
explain his lack of backbone. The crazy, overwhelming desire for
her. The fact that he was entertaining thoughts of chaining her to
this bed until she agreed to spend eternity with him.

She was so unlike any woman he’d ever met.
Not unnecessarily glamorous, but beautiful just the same. A perfect
combination of fire and ice, sweet and sassy, loud and quiet,
strong and soft. Sure. She was impulsive. Young. And she didn’t
think everything through. But that was part of her charm.

In that moment, he wondered if the novelty
would ever wear off. What if it did? More importantly, what if it
didn’t?

The anticipation between them was as thick as
molasses. He switched their positions, rolling her onto her back.
She was like a drug and he couldn’t say no. Couldn’t pull away.

So tempting. She stared up at him with those
beautiful pale aqua eyes, expectant. He brushed his lips across
hers ever so lightly.

She didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

He leaned in again to deepen the kiss, heard
her suck in a breath, felt her tighten her grip on his shirt.

A bell rang softly through the suite but the
unexpected sound made the woman beneath him tense. He kissed her
forehead and rolled away. “It’s all right,
engel
, I ordered
you another cocktail.”

He gave her a reassuring smile and then rose
to his full height. Straightening his clothes, he strode out of the
room and crossed to the foyer of the suite. A butler stood there, a
silver tray in his hand. Another silver goblet sat dead center.
Shade thanked him and took the glass.

“Here you go —” the words died on his lips
when he found the bedroom empty.

“Shade?”

He closed his eyes, relief filling him.

Until that moment he hadn’t realized just how
much he wanted her to fall for his plan. To stay with him. But the
way his heart jump-started said it all.

“I am in the tub.”

Shade paused, the image of her body, naked
and covered in bubbles so vivid he might as well have been staring
at her. He shook his head but the image didn’t go away.

After clearing his throat he stepped to the
bathroom door. “Your cocktail is here.”

“Would you bring it to me? Please?”

Gods help him. If he walked into that
bathroom… she would be naked. And the only thing separating them
was a door. A wooden door, at that.