The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(24)

But if she could call McIntosh, the Institute could devise a way to rescue her. She could return to her old life and pretend the last two days had never happened - even though the thought of abandoning Maddox created an inexplicable ache in her chest. Stupid girl!

"Who exactly is your boss?"

As if she would tell him and put an innocent man in danger. Instead, she gathered her courage and said, "Let me go, Maddox. Please."

Another pause, heavier than before. He stepped closer, placing them nose to nose as he had in the forest. His eyes were bright violet now. "Last night I told you to return to the city. You refused. You even followed me. You cried out for me. Remember?"

The reminder stung. "A moment of insanity," she whispered, looking down at her hands. Her fingers were intertwined, the knuckles white.

"Well, that moment of insanity sealed your fate, woman. You're staying here."

Maddox escorted the reluctant Ashlyn to his bedroom. He'd already cleaned the floor and thrown out the soiled mattress, replacing it with a new one from the array in the room next door. In anticipation of her seduction, he'd prepared a bath for her, made up a platter of meats and cheeses, opened a bottle of wine and turned down the clean, sun-kissed sheets.

He'd never put so much effort into a coupling, had only heard Paris talk about how quickly women melted when men pampered them like this.

Maddox hadn't realized Ashlyn would spend the entire night in a cell or that she would need all of this care thanks to his friends. His fingers curled into a tight fist.

Her comfort doesn't matter. He wasn't sure who the thought came from - the demon or himself. He only knew it was a lie.

"Bathe, change and eat," he forced himself to say. "No one will bother you." He paused. "Is there anything else you might require?"

She walked around him in a wide half circle, turning to face him almost immediately, as if she didn't trust him at her back. "Freedom would be nice."

"Besides that."

Her gaze scanned the room. He didn't like how pale she was, how wobbly and withdrawn. She had not been so drained last night, even in the bitter chill of the forest. "What about wiping out my memory of the past few days?"

"Besides that," he repeated darkly, not liking that she wanted to forget him.

She sighed. "No. There's nothing, then."

He knew he should leave, give her a chance to relax and follow his commands, but he found himself reluctant to do so. He leaned against the side of the door. She remained in the center of the room, arms crossed over her middle, stretching the pink jacket she wore over her breasts. His mouth watered.

"Have you done this to many women?" she asked in a conversational tone.

His eyes snapped up and locked with hers, his body tightening. "Done what?" Entranced them? Seduced them? His throat was suddenly blocked by a hard mass.

Now she snorted. "Locked them away. What else?"

The mass quickly dissolved. "You are the first," he replied, doing his best to hide his disappointment.

"And what do you have planned for me, special girl that I am?"

"Only time will tell," he answered honestly.

A shadow of concern darkened her expression. "How much time?"

"We shall have to discover the answer together."

Now she flashed him a frown. "You're the most cryptic man I've ever met."

He shrugged. "I have been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," she muttered.

Even the insult did not drive him away. Just a little longer..."I did not know what foods you would like, so I brought you a little of everything we had in the kitchen. I fear there wasn't much to choose from."

"Thank you," she said, then pressed her lips together. A flash of anger descended over her face. "I don't know why I'm being polite to you. Look at what you're doing to me."

"Taking care of you?"

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced away from him.

"Do you belong to a man, Ashlyn?" he asked, hating the thought.

"I don't understand your question. Am I married? No. Do I have a boyfriend? No. But I do have friends, and people will worry about me," she rushed to add, as if suddenly realizing she'd made herself vulnerable.

Who did she hope to convince? Him? Or herself?

"They'll search for me. They will," she insisted when he failed to respond.

"But they will not find you," he said, confident. The four last night hadn't made it up the hill. Her other friends wouldn't, either.

Her hand fluttered to her throat, drawing his attention to the pulse hammering there. Why did he find himself so entranced by the beat of her heart, compelled to touch the evidence of its movement?

"I didn't mean to scare you," he told her. He wasn't certain which of them was more surprised by his words - Ashlyn or himself.

"I don't understand you," she whispered.

Neither did he understand himself. And the more he stood here talking to her, the less sense he made. He straightened. "Clean yourself up. I will return later." Not giving her a chance to counter, he stepped into the hall, shutting the door without a backward glance.

Better this way. From the moment he had asked her if she belonged to a man, the demon had begun to churn inside of him, eager for a fight. If he stayed, he would touch her. If he touched her, he would take her. But he did not want to risk tangled bodies and heated kisses turning to biting, clawing and a too-rough pounding.