Sweet Temptation (The Sweet Trilogy #4)(14)

Call me moody, but if I’m expecting a shag and it falls through because a possible enemy decides to show, it puts me on edge. Especially when this possible enemy is hot for me and I refuse to touch her. I’ve never had such ambiguous feelings for someone. I’m a paranoid, confused mess, and that irks the bejesus out of me.

Enough of this. The game ends now. I slam the final beats and then stand, throwing down my headphones.

“Well, if it isn’t little orphan Annie,” I say.

A hurt look crosses her face, and navy sadness slices through her aura. I refuse to feel bad. I get myself a drink and decide to call her out. Take this to the next level.

I take out my knife. Open it. Twirl it. All the while watching her fear and confusion. I want her to speak, but she doesn’t. So, I move closer. Get right in her face. Cage her in against the wall.

Now she’s the one feeling ambiguous—torn between lust and fear. I keep my knife steady in my hand, out at my side where she can see it. I am primed and ready for a fight, expecting her to reveal secret ninja skills at any moment, but she doesn’t. She merely melts back against the wall.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I just want to talk. You don’t have to try to scare me.”

Her voice shakes. The darkness of her fear is overridden by a puff of red as my hips graze against hers.

“There’s hardly any room for fear when you’re so bloody turned on.”

A blade of near blackness slices through her lust. I’m making her mad. Good on me. Perhaps if she’s angry enough she’ll finally blurt out what she wants.

“Ah, there’s anger now . . . and a bit of embarrassment.”

“I know what we are now,” she says in a shaking breath. The sound of her voice rakes against my cold heart. What we are . . . is it truly possible she didn’t know? Obviously she knew she was different, but could she have been ignorant about being the daughter of a demon? Possible, but not probable. It has to be a bloody lie.

“Congratulations.” I consider kissing her, just to see how she’ll react. Just to see how those pretty little lips feel.

At that thought I push away from the wall, berating myself, as I send my small dagger flying at the dartboard with a hard throw.

Bull’s-eye.

I make it smoothly to the couch and turn, not wanting my back to her for too long. I sit and wait for her to explain why she’s come, but she simply stands there at a loss. Heavy doubt clouds my mind. Did she come here to talk to me about what we are? If she didn’t know before, how would she have found out? I want to ask, but if it’s all a wicked hoax, I can’t fall into her trap.

Something inside me twinges—I hear something outside, but everyone should be gone by now. I push my hearing through the house and down our curved driveway.

A smooth-engined car.

My father’s velvety voice as he talks on his mobile, schmoozing someone, chuckling.

Of all the bad f*cking timing . . .

I look at Anna, but she doesn’t appear to be listening. Does she know he’s coming? Is this a trap? I wait for a smug look to cross her face, for the act to drop, but she’s the very same Anna, standing there in a cloud of hurt feelings.

Sudden clarity smacks me and I feel the strangest sense of protectiveness over my mysterious Nephilim girl. I know I’ve been contemplating whether or not she’s working with Father and the other Dukes, but in that moment my gut feeling overtakes me.

I don’t think she is. Deep down, I think she’s legit. Call me a damned fool, but the idea of keeping this girl in the room with my father is like putting a speckled fawn in the path of a wolf.

I have to hide her.

Father is saying his good-byes on the mobile now, and the driver is walking around to let him out. It’s likely that Father has already heard us, but if he was on the phone he mightn’t have. If I attempt to take Anna out a back way, he will hear both of our footsteps and wonder why I’m avoiding him. I have about one minute to dupe him into thinking she’s a hookup.

I jump from the couch and lunge at Anna, grasping her shoulders hard and pressing my lips to her ear. I whisper as softly as I can.

“My father is here.”

She stiffens under my hand. Yes, she knows what we are, therefore she knows Father is a demon. Be afraid, Anna.

I pull her to the couch and fling her down. Thank God for female blouses with buttons. I rip it open, needing the scene to appear real. When she sucks in a shocked breath I press a finger to her lips. Her aura is a swirl of gray tones, both fear and embarrassment. This is not the time for modesty. I can’t have her appearing terrified if we’re supposed to be going at it. So I toss a throw blanket at her and rip my own shirt over my head. I point to her shirt and she starts rolling her shoulders to get it off.

God, she is sexy. Even in that innocent white satin bra. Let’s just hope I haven’t been a fool and she doesn’t shove a dagger in my spine. I lower my body over hers and taste the skin at the base of her throat. I move upward to the curve of her neck and shoulder, and let out a low moan. Our skin touches and she moves underneath me in a sultry way, grasping the nearby pillows in her fists.

I suddenly want all her clothes off.

The sound of Father coming down the stairs erases that thought from my mind. He knows by now I’m with a girl, but he has no notion of privacy.

When the door opens, Anna’s body jumps under me and she lets out a squeak. I turn my head to the door where Father stands, smiling, inching farther to the side to get a better look at Anna. Damn. I can’t hide her any further without being obvious.