The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(65)

Licking her lips, she released the post and stumbled forward. No telling how long Reyes would be gone. She'd have to keep herself busy, distracted, or she would be a bundle of anxious energy and sickness when he returned, unable to crawl into bed for anything more than sleep.

There was only one thing she knew of that would absorb her concentration completely. Painting.

Her hands were itching with anticipation before she reached the closed door. The metal was cold against her skin as she twisted the knob. As she stepped inside, she expected a closet full of supplies. Instead, she found another bedroom, spacious, airy - and converted into an artist's studio.

She drank in the luxury, a shocked gasp escaping her. Canvas after blank canvas awaited her, each propped on an easel. Against the far wall was a table lined with multisized brushes and tubes of color.

He did this for me. Not because he'd wanted to see into her dreams. He hadn't known about them when he'd done this. But simply because he wanted her to be happy. The realization was as shocking as the studio itself, and she found herself softening all the more toward him.

"What am I going to do with you, Reyes," she whispered.

How many times would Reyes surprise her like this? First the clothing, then his attempts at soothing her fears, and now this dream studio. Everything he did, everything he said, battered against her sense of self-preservation. Danika's hand fluttered over her racing heart. Even at home, she hadn't had such an elaborate setup. She'd made a livable wage painting portraits, but spare cash had been a rarity.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

Before she became aware she'd taken a step, she was standing in front of the table, lifting the brushes, testing their weight and feeling their bristles. Reyes wanted to see the images from her dreams, the angels and the demons, the gods and goddesses. Suddenly she wanted to give him anything, everything.

But as she studied the palette of colors, both oils and acrylics, she knew her dreams would not be the focus of her first painting tonight. He would.

REYES PREPARED ANOTHER MEAL for Danika. Thankfully Paris had gone shopping before leaving for Rome, so there was plenty to choose from.

He carried the tray of fresh fish and salad to his bedroom, experiencing a slight twinge of panic when he didn't spot Danika right away. A quick search, and he found her in the studio, serene as she sketched something on one of the canvases. So absorbed was she that she didn't hear him enter. Did not even look at him when he called her name.

Her eyes were glazed, as if she were in some sort of trance. Her wrist flicked up and down the blank board gracefully, her body swaying from side to side in a fluid dance. His chest ached, his cock swelled. Pain battered against his skull to get to her. None of that.

Not wanting to distract her, he left. Breathed in and out, trying to still his raging heartbeat. He didn't think her lovely image would ever leave his mind. Hair hastily tied back, several strands escaping. Black smudges on her cheek and jaw. Lips red and glistening from the sharp nibble of her teeth.

He was rock hard and shaking uncontrollably by the time he reached the entertainment room. He hadn't realized he'd done it, but he'd already palmed his blades. Desperate for pain, he plopped onto the dark red couch; the men refused to buy any other color upholstery because of him, a fact that sometimes embarrassed him.

At least he didn't feel the need to jump from the fortress roof again.

"So what's a guy have to do to get some action around here?"

Reyes's head whipped to the side at the sound of that unknown voice. One of his daggers was soaring through the air a second later.

An unfamiliar warrior lounged in the plush red recliner, legs extended, the very picture of tranquility. He captured Reyes's weapon without a blink and studied the hilt. "Nice work. You make it yourself?"

Recognition suddenly dawned. "William." Anya's friend. Not many people could make it up the hill and into the fortress without setting off Torin's traps and sensors. But Torin had turned them off for this man, and Anya had warned everyone in the house to leave him alone or suffer the consequences.

"Yep, that's me. I know, I know. You're humbled I'm here, feel like throwing rose petals at my feet, blah, blah, blah. No need, though. Just try and think of me as a normal guy."

Reyes rolled his eyes. Anya had failed to mention the immortal was an arrogant ass. "Yes, I made the blade. Why are you here?"

Frowning, William tangled a strong hand through his black-as-night hair. "Boredom, my friend. Boredom. Everyone just took off, no welcome party for me or anything. I decided to watch some TV, but the only movies you've got are porn and as I've been without a female for the past few weeks, they're just making me jealous."

"The movies belong to Paris," he said.

A laugh. A shake of William's head. "Say no more. I met the man."

"I did not mean, why are you in this room. Why are you in Budapest? Why are you in this fortress?"

William shrugged those big shoulders. "Answer doesn't change. Boredom. Well," he added after a moment's thought, "maybe it changes a little. Anya came to visit me not too long ago and put me in a tight spot with the new god king. I failed him, so he burned my home to the ground - even though he got what he wanted anyway. I've got nowhere else to go and Anya owes me big-time."

Reyes stiffened, every muscle in his body going on alert. "If you came to hurt her, I will - "