Page 26 of The Guardian (Dark-Hunter 20)
Even sell her soul. So what would a few well-placed lies and some tender looks mean if it achieved her goal? How could he ever trust someone in her position?
Only a fool would do it. And he was anything but.
She reached out and touched the edge of his book. "So is this what you do for entertainment?"
"It is."
She bit her lip as she thought it over, then a wicked light gleamed in her topaz gaze. "Haven't you ever wanted to bust loose and do something wild and different?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know. What's outside this room?"
Hell. Misery. Blood-soaked walls. Statues that would come alive and try to eat your eyes. Demons who would attack for no reason. Not to mention two assholes known as Azura and Noir.
Maybe he should tell her that, but in the end he went with a more vague answer. "Nothing worth seeing."
"Really?"
"Really. Azmodea is vast with several realms in it, but none of them are worth the danger it takes to explore them. May your gods take mercy on you if you get caught by some of the roaming demons who do nothing but scout victims. And even worse than that, some of the other realms are ruled by beings who make Azura and Noir look like pacificists in comparison. If they should ever lay hands on you ... it's not pretty."
Lydia nodded. By his tone and the way he unconsciously rubbed at his thigh as if reliving some pain, she could tell he had firsthand experience with that.
"So you just sit here in this room and read, then?"
"When they allow me to, yes."
She couldn't imagine a more boring way to live, especially since he only had five books to keep him company. "No offense, that's kind of pathetic, don't you think?"
His eyes turned brittle as he went ramrod stiff. "I don't care for that word."
Given his tone and the I-want-to-rip-out-your-spine vibes he was bashing her in the head with, that was an understatement and then some. She definitely wanted to know which word he objected to so she didn't say it again. "Kind?"
"Pathetic," he spat it out with enough venom to adequately get his point across.
"All right then. I'll take it out of my vocabulary."
Closing the book, he set it aside. He stood up and hesitated as if he was still struggling to get his temper under control. When he spoke again, there was an undercurrent of residual anger. "I put some clothes for you in the bathroom."
"Thank you."
That seemed to embarrass him, but at least it knocked the last remnants of anger out of him. "If you need anything else, let me know."
"Okay."
She went to the bathroom, where she learned that he'd left her a whole wardrobe. Silk dresses, silk and cotton blouses, along with jeans and shoes.
When she got to the underwear, she couldn't suppress a laugh at his choice. Red thongs. Why didn't that surprise her?
Because he was a man after all. Even though he refused to touch her, this was the kind of underwear a guy would buy a woman he wanted to see wearing it. There was no other reason for it to have even been invented. And she was sure the original designer of it must have been a direct descendant of the Marquis de Sade.
Gah, it's like wearing a perpetual wedgie.
And the bras ...
They matched, but offered her no support whatsoever. Yep, the headlights would be on and shining, and she'd jiggle like Jell-O every time she moved. Still, she was amazed he'd thought of them. And by the looks of it, he'd given it a lot of thought, too.
She went to the shower and turned it on, then noticed that the clothes weren't the only additions he'd made. There was now a variety of shampoos, conditioners, and other toiletries for her.
So her demon could be extremely thoughtful and giving. Who would have ever thought?
Shaking her head, she removed her gown and stepped inside.
* * *
Seth's heart pounded at the sound of the shower running. She'd be in there naked ...
He didn't know why he wanted to see her like that, but he did. In the worst sort of way. More than that, he ached to shower with her.
Why?
Sex was good, but the pleasure never lasted long and it was usually tainted with biting, vicious hair-pulling, and clawing, sometimes even stabbing and gouging. After a quick momentary release and a glimmer of perfect pleasure, the old pains set in, and he was told to leave.
Needless to say, he'd never really craved it all that much-at least not when he had access to it. During his confinement, it'd been yet another thing his mind and body had tortured him with.
But with Lydia, it was never far from his thoughts. At times it seemed to be all he could think about.
No, she was all he could think about. It was why he didn't ask her many questions. He didn't want to know her any better. What he already knew of her would haunt him for the rest of his immortality.
He needed no more pain in his life.
Trying to distract himself, he went to the bed to straighten it up. But the moment he touched his pillow, a whiff of her sent a stabbing pain straight to his groin, and it made him instantly hard for her.
What he wouldn't give to have her precious scent on his skin. To have her rub her body across his and tease him with her dark hair.
His breathing ragged, he closed his eyes and imagined himself deep inside her, while her breath tickled his skin.
Was she a biter like Azura, or would she claw at him like a demon? At this point, he didn't care. He'd be willing to be flayed for a week if he could only taste her.
He pressed his hand against his groin and gently rubbed it, wishing it was her he felt there. Just the mere thought of it being Lydia was almost enough to make him come.
Stop it. Now. The last thing he needed was to leave evidence of his desire for her to see.
It would shame him to the bitter core.
His hand trembling, he smoothed her pillow down, then dressed himself in his armor and paint before he returned to reading.
The moment he finally succeeded in putting her out of his thoughts was the one when she opened the door.
He glanced up, then dropped his book straight to the floor.
