The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(49)

“Playing?”

She dropped the braid and started on another lock of hair. “I can play a mean fiddle when provoked.”

As soon as she said the words, he could almost see it, her fingers dancing across the strings, her eyes closed in concentration, that little line present between her brows as she became a conduit for the music. Zach leaned forward. “How long have you played?”

“Since I was nine. It was one of the extracurricular programs offered in school.”

“I remember.” He’d thought about it, but getting up early to be driven to the high school to learn an instrument had seemed like too much sacrifice. “I’m surprised Martha allowed it.”

“She didn’t want to. As far as she’s concerned, the violin is the devil’s instrument—or Hades’, as it were.” She shrugged, her expression becoming shuttered again. “I didn’t give her a choice. I was a terror even at that age.”

There was tension beneath the words, and he got the feeling that Martha might have given in publicly, but she’d punished Eden for it all the same. The woman didn’t like to be contradicted, and though she might cover that fact up with smiles and sweet words, Zach had seen the hard glint in her eyes enough times that he’d second-guessed joining up back when he’d been interested. He didn’t like liars much, and there wasn’t another word for presenting one personality to the public and a completely different one in private.

Needing to steer them back to safer territory—if there even was such a thing—he said, “I’d like to hear you play sometime.”

“Sure. Maybe.” It wasn’t quite an agreement, but it wasn’t a no, either. Eden pushed to her feet and stretched her arms over her head, the move making her T-shirt ride up and revealing a sliver of pale skin. There were tattoos there, too, though he got only the barest hint of blue-black ink before she lowered her arms. It didn’t matter. Zach was pretty sure that image was permanently tattooed on the inside of his brain, his body surging to attention and his brain temporarily checking out. He jerked his gaze to her face, and the awareness there only made his control slip through his fingers faster. “Eden.”

“Zach.” Just that. Just his name. But it felt like she’d reached across the distance between them and touched him. She smiled, the expression a little wistful. “You have a bed in this place?”

Shock temporarily stole his breath. “I didn’t invite you here for that.”

“No, but you invited me here for a distraction.” She raised her eyebrows. “I think taking me to bed would qualify.”

He didn’t feel like he was taking her anywhere. Then there was the fact that he didn’t particularly like serving as a distraction and nothing more to Eden. Damn it, he liked Eden. He didn’t know what was going on between them, but he knew it was worth more than a quick fuck.

Zach took a deep breath, reining in his desire. He got the feeling that if he took her up on what she was offering tonight, he would never get a real shot with the woman. He stood. “Eden.”

“I know that tone of voice. You’re about to let me down gently.” Her smile this time looked definitely more sad than wistful. “It’s okay. Really.”

That wasn’t it. He pushed to his feet and circled around the table to stand in front of her. “Let me tell you something.”

“I’d rather you not.” But he wasn’t going to let her get away that easily. Zach waited, watching her closely, and she finally sighed. “I’m listening.”

This is definitely more similar to hunting with Dad than I’m used to. He closed the last of that distance between them, until their chests brushed with each breath. Her scent, something warm and summery, wrapped around him, more intoxicating than the best kind of whiskey. His gaze dropped to her mouth, the only part of her that seemed soft, no matter how cold her expression.

It’s not cold right now.

No, she looked hot enough to burn the house down around them. She blinked dark eyes at him, her blonde hair a tumble around her shoulders, her breath coming too fast, and for one eternal moment he put serious consideration into throwing caution to the wind and taking her up on her offer. Only the truth that he’d never get a second shot stopped him.

Mostly.

He cupped the back of her neck. “Both of us deserve to be more than a conveniently timed distraction in the middle of a shitshow case.”

“Sweet of you to make excuses, but—”

He kissed her. It was meant to shut her up and stop her from making excuses he didn’t need, but the second his mouth made contact, it developed into something else entirely. I should stop. I’m the one putting the brakes on this, but . . .

He didn’t stop.

He held her closer, tighter, as if the contact would center him. It did the exact opposite, shredding what was left of his control and setting fire to his world. Her tongue stroked his, her hands fisting the front of his shirt. She pulled back enough to say, “Zach, please.” Just that, but there was so much more beneath the words.

Please don’t stop. Please help me forget.

He knew all about wanting to forget. There had been weeks on end without sleep when he got back from the desert, weeks when he slept on the floor because the thick mattress was too foreign to him, weeks when he disappeared into the woods because he wasn’t sure if he could tell friend from enemy with the shit going on in his head.