Demons Like It Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)(15)
“I forbid it.”
“Well, you know, you’re not my dad, and last I checked I was twenty-nine years old. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”
Not one of her most brilliant and well-thought-out ideas, but she needed the publicity. And, unfortunately, there was a kill clause in the contract. She couldn’t back out now.
“I sort of signed a contract. The host of the show is meeting me tomorrow.”
“This isn’t safe.”
“But now I have a big bad bodyguard to protect me, so what’s the big deal?”
“I’ll need to discuss this with Rafael. This complicates matters.”
“It’s American Chef, not Hell’s Kitchen.” And thank goodness for that. If there was one chef that could be a demon, Gordon Ramsay was it.
Matthias stood to his full six-foot-four height, his eyes smoldering. “I don’t care if it’s the bloody 700 Club, inviting the public means inviting trouble. You don’t need any more trouble.”
No, what she didn’t need was a huge hulk of a man—scratch that—demon, controlling her every move. Being a bodyguard and protecting her was one thing. Ordering her around like a child was another. She wasn’t a teenager. She was an adult.
“I need publicity. I’ve had a dry spell. This TV gig will bring in more business.” She stood to her full five-foot-six stature in a pathetic attempt to meet his glare. “As for The 700 Club, Pat Robertson will be the last person on my invite list.” She brushed a finger along her cheek. “How do you know about television? I figured you’d been too busy dealing with your demonic military company.”
“Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I don’t keep track of modern religion and political beliefs. I need to stay on top of trends if I’m supposed to blend in.”
She let the sarcasm roll off her tongue. “Well, you’re doing a smashing job so far. Because everyone in America feels the need to dress up like an extra from Apocalypse Now. No pun intended.”
“I didn’t have time to get civilian clothes.”
“I’m sure Rafe would lend you some of his clothes but something tells me leather really isn’t your thing.” And she doubted he’d fit Rafe’s pants anyway. Her heart thudded again. Her breath caught. Muscles bunched and rippled with his every move. She trained her gaze lower—to his hands. They were big, yet elegant—well, as elegant as a military man’s hands could get.
Hands like that could grip parts of her body tight. What? Where did that come from?
He gripped the side of the desk. Any tighter and the dark mahogany would splinter. Hands like that could kill.
Serah gulped. She needed to keep her distance from him. He was a demon—and a rather large, dangerous one at that. And the aura of mystery that surrounded him didn’t help matters much either. The way he avoided her questions meant one thing. He was hiding something. Then again, he was a mercenary. Not the most honorable job in the world—or the netherworld.
But, first, she needed to get him in new clothes. “The mall is going to close soon, unless you’d rather shop at the Super M-Mart. They’re open twenty-four hours a day. Not as expensive, but cheaper quality.”
“Money is no issue.”
She snorted. “I figured as much. Green’s Corner it is. There’s a designer big and tall shop in the shopping center. I’ve obviously never shopped there.” But the live models in the window always got her attention—you’d have to be dead not to notice them. Then again, none of those men had anything on Matthias. Centuries of battle experience—human and demonic—would do that to a man.
“Is this necessary? I happen to like my clothes.”
“I just think it would look awkward to have you dressed like Rambo. My customers might not like it.” Not to mention the T-shirt he wore strained too tight against the ridges of his muscles. She needed to concentrate. Him standing there in military gear twenty-four-seven wouldn’t help matters at all.
“Fair enough.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. His words came out strained. “I am at your mercy.” His gaze seared and his jaw remained firm. Hard. No softness anywhere.
Her heart continued to thump. She swallowed the lump that kept forming in her throat. No, he’d never be at her complete mercy. Men—demons—like him never were. And for some reason that naughty corner of her didn’t mind that one bit. The sooner she got this man into some normal clothes, the better—for the sake of her practical side.
Chapter 6
“Watch out!”
The command echoed in her eardrums. She slammed on the brake, sending her new GMC Terrain screeching. She wasn’t known for having the best driving skills, but having such a bulking presence with her sent her mind reeling and her car swerving. Focus, girl. Don’t let him get to you.
Too late. He already had—in more ways than one.
“Sorry.” She adjusted her sunglasses and pulled down the mirror. “Sun was in my eyes.” No need telling him the truth. He’d make up his own assumptions anyway.
Shrugging, he pulled out his own sunglasses. The Top Gun-style aviator glasses nearly completed his military guise. Just add a wide-brimmed hat and he’d make a perfect gunnery sergeant. “Just be careful. I can’t have you getting hurt on my first day on the job.”