Ruby Shadows (Born to Darkness #3)(19)

“What about you?” I asked, my voice cracking a little as I remembered my earlier fears that he would take what he wanted and then abandon me. “Can I trust you while we’re here? Can I really, Laish?”

“Did you not hear the pledge I gave to your grandmother?” he demanded.

“I know what you told Grams but I thought…” I shook my head. “You were just saying that to make her feel better, right? I mean, you don’t really care about me, any more than I care about you. We’re just sort of working together to get this done. Right?”

“Just working together…” Laish mused in a low voice. “Is that how you see it?”

“Well, it’s better than thinking that I’m prostituting myself to you in order to get through Hell and shut that damn door,” I snapped, my nerves worked to the breaking point.

“I suppose so.” Laish sighed and gave me a long look. Then he stepped forward and cupped my cheek again, looking down into my eyes. I wanted to pull away from his gentle touch, which sent shivers all through me, but something stopped me. “Yes, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “You can trust me. And if an oath is necessary to satisfy, I swear it—not on my soul, as I have none—but on yours. I will not leave you or forsake you. I will protect you with my life—but in order to do that, I need for you to trust me.”

“I…I’ll try,” I said in a small voice. Damn it, why did he always make me feel so unsure of myself? And why did his hand on my skin make my stomach flutter and my heart race? It was ridiculous but I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction to him any more than I could stop breathing.


“Good,” Laish murmured. Leaning down, he brushed a gentle, chaste kiss to my lips. It was so soft, I barely felt it but the warm press of his mouth to mine reminded me of the other, much more passionate kiss we had shared before when I had “paid” him for the demon’s breath I’d needed for a spell. Part of me wanted to kiss him back—and part of me was scared to death. I held perfectly still, frozen with indecision until he straightened up. “Trust me,” he murmured. “And put on the dress.”

“All right,” I whispered back. “But at least turn around so I can have some privacy.”

“Privacy will soon become a thing of the past but I will be happy to cede you one last moment to yourself.” Turning, he presented his broad back to me. “Go on, get dressed. And hurry, there will be a changing of the guards soon at the Great Barrier. I would like to take advantage of it to slip in unnoticed.”

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered to myself. But all the same, I went ahead, shedding my jeans and t-shirt (and bra, which I hated to lose) and shimmying into the thin red dress instead.

It occurred to me, as I changed, that once we reached Hell, it had taken Laish exactly ten minutes to get me out of my clothes. The thought made me irritated with myself and I was even more annoyed when I remembered the way his soft kiss had made me practically melt. What was wrong with me, anyway? I was a strong, independent witch. I should be immune to his mind games.

But apparently I wasn’t because here I was, on Hell’s front doorstep, wearing nothing but my lacy black bikini panties and a thin red night-gown looking dress which showed plenty of cleavage and outlined both my nipples clearly. It was also a lot tighter around the hips and behind than I liked—not that I was surprised—Laish had clearly meant for it to fit me like a glove. At least my chosen footwear—the little black ballet flats—didn’t look too bad with it.

“Are you ready?” Laish rumbled.

“As I’ll ever be,” I grumbled. “You can turn around now.”

He turned and looked at me, those ruby red eyes traveling over what felt like every inch of my body.

“Well?” I shifted uncomfortably. “Are we going to go?”

“In a moment. I want to admire the view.” He stepped toward me. “I knew that color would look lovely against your skin. I love the tone, you know—so warm and creamy. Like café au lait.”

I lifted my chin, trying not to let his nearness affect me. “Thank you but can we go now?”

“Not yet.” He let one finger drift over the thin silk strap on my right shoulder. I stiffened, wondering if he would demand part of his “payment” now. But he didn’t touch my breast—only my shoulder. “The contrast is perfect,” he murmured.

“Well, red has always been my color.” I had to work to keep my voice even.

“I’m not speaking of the red dress against your skin—I’m talking about my skin contrasted with yours.” He nodded at his big, well-shaped hand, which looked pale against my own warm brown tones. “Light and dark,” he murmured. “Beautiful.”

“I guess so.” I made myself step away from his light touch though part of me really wanted to step into it. “Now are we going or not? I thought there was a changing of the guard or something like that.”

He sighed. “Will you always be this standoffish with me, mon ange?” He shook his head before I could answer “Never mind. Yes, this is the time to enter, hopefully unnoticed. Follow me and say nothing.”

“Fine. I’ll walk five paces behind you and I won’t say a word when you tell people I’m your freaking concubine,” I muttered, feeling a surge of irritation which almost eclipsed the other, turbulent emotions he brought out in me.