Angel Betrayed (The Fallen #2)(3)

Death.

Strange. She’d never thought Death would be particularly sexy. He was.

His eyes were the brightest blue she’d ever seen. His cheeks were high, his jaw hard and strong, and his lips—sensual, but with an edge of cruelty she couldn’t miss.

Sam took her hand. “Come with me.”

A shiver slipped over her at his touch. She hadn’t expected her reaction to Sam. The first time she’d seen him, she’d . . . wanted him and that wasn’t the way things were supposed to work in her world. She was the one desired. The one wanted. That was the way she’d been made. She might not like the life she’d been given, but screw the bitching and moaning routine. Seline couldn’t control what she was, but she could use her power.

Sam led her through the crowd and to a small door on the side of the club. The private room. Yeah, she knew the place. She’d been working at Sunrise for a while now, and she’d learned the rules. This room was for the VIPs. A place for them to have quick sex, to run a business deal, or to party the night away. All without having to worry about any prying eyes watching.

Unless you wanted to be watched, because she knew some folks in Sunrise liked that, too.

The bouncer at the door immediately let Sam inside. Figured he’d get instant access because right then, she knew Sam was the most important VIP in the place.

Fear had a way of making certain people very, very important.

The door closed behind her with a soft click. No watching. Seline’s heart did a too-fast kick when Sam turned around and locked his stare on her. “Better now?” he asked with a twist of his lips. Sexy lips. “I’m all yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her with a gaze that always saw too much.

Oh, damn. She swallowed. Play the game. “I-I . . . you owe me, Sam.”

His dark brows—black to match his midnight mane of hair—rose. “Do I?” His voice was careless, but she saw the intensity in his eyes.

Seline nodded quickly. “I helped you before. I told you—told you when the shifter wanted you dead.” Who didn’t want him dead? But a few weeks ago, she’d tipped Sam off about the very dangerous coyote shifter who’d been hunting him. That tip-off should give her the bargaining power she needed right now.

His head inclined. “So you did.” His gaze raked her body, and that hot blue stare lingered a bit too long on her breasts and her thighs.

The top of her “uniform” plunged right between her breasts, and the skirt barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. She shifted slightly beneath his stare but quickly caught herself. “You owe me now, Sam,” she reminded him.

That brought his eyes back to hers. His face, that perfect face that didn’t belong on someone so dangerous, tilted to study her. Sam might have the reputation of the devil, but the man’s face and body were pure perfection. All the better to tempt.

Sometimes she felt like everything about the man was a lie. But, fair enough, she was pretty good at deceiving, too.

She pressed, “You pay your debts, right?” He’d better. “Depends on the debt.”

That wasn’t the answer she wanted.

Sam lowered his arms and stalked closer until only a foot of space separated their bodies. The door was closed behind her, and when he leaned in, Sam slapped both of his palms against the wooden frame and caged her with his arms. “What do you need, Seline?”

She wasn’t surprised that he knew her name. He’d watched her often enough in the last two months. First, he’d watched her at Temptation. Going in as a dancer had been the only way she knew to get close to Sam—and she had to get close.

But when some *s had torched the joint, she’d had to come up with a real fast plan B. Since she knew Sam spent a lot of time here, she’d taken a waitressing job at Sunrise. All to stay close to him.

It had only been later that she’d learned Sam actually owned Sunrise, too.

“Seline?” His breath feathered lightly over her cheek. “What do you want from me?”

Her chin lifted but she kept her hands at her sides. Don’t touch him. “Protection.”

His brows rose.

“I won’t lie to you, Sam.” Yes, actually, she would. A lot. “I haven’t exactly been living the pure and innocent life.” Okay, that line was one hundred percent true. “I . . . made a mistake a while back, and now there are some people out there that want me dead.”

“Why?”

The door was shut. They were totally alone. She could confess to him. “Because I killed a man.” The words seemed to fall into the thick silence of the room. “I didn’t plan to do it. It-it was an accident—”

“Was it?”

Her hands clenched into fists. Ah, caught me. “No, it wasn’t.” Again, this part was true. The lies would only come later. “He was an * who got off on hurting women. He used his fists any chance he had, and I wasn’t gonna be the next body he put in a box.” She wouldn’t be any man’s punching bag.

His eyes studied her. “You’re afraid.”

Only of a few things in this world.

“Is that why,” he continued quietly, “you’re always armed?”

He knew?

“With a gun close by, tucked in your purse or . . .” His fingers slid up her thigh. Up, up, stroking over her flesh until he found the sheath of her knife, tucked right on the interior of her thigh. “Or why you keep a knife strapped to your thigh?”