Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“It’s not that simple.”
“So talk to me, Dev.” She pulled her shirt together, and sat up. “Help me understand why it isn’t.”
“I have to go.” He looked at the windows behind the couch like he was thinking about jumping out of them. “I just… have to go.”
A shaft of pain penetrated her sternum, but she was not going to beg him. “Okay. So leave.”
When he didn’t move, she leaned forward so that they were face to face. “I don’t know what’s got you locked up, but whatever it is, it’s on your side of things, not mine.”
“I’m not looking for… this.” Dev rubbed his hair, his palm sweeping back and forth like he was trying to polish the thoughts in his head. “This… cannot happen. Between you and me.”
In the silence that followed, she became even more resolute. “Well, I’m not asking for more than right here and now.”
“And that’s my problem,” he said harshly.
“What is.”
“I’m afraid if I have you, I’ll never be free of you.”
As his words registered, she thought… Well, hell. For all the reasons he was right about them not having any kind of future, she was suddenly flushed at the idea that he could want her that much.
“You can always walk out the door afterward.” She wanted to touch his face, but resisted. “You’re free to go now, too.”
“Just because you leave someone doesn’t mean you can forget about them,” he countered bitterly.
“Who hurt you, Dev. Tell me.”
Instead of answering her, he got to his feet, and from his great height, he stared down at her for the longest time. She could sense the retreat in him, and wondered where in his mind he had gone. It was a dark place, wherever it was, given the stark lines of his ex-pression.
“I want to go to that convention with you,” he said grimly. “Unless you want to end this right here.”
Lyric recoiled a little. Then again, he had a habit of surprising her, didn’t he.
“All right.” She cleared her throat. “Meet me at the loading dock of the convention center tomorrow night at six p.m. It’s around in the back, and I’ve been told there’s only one.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dev nodded briskly, like that was that, and as he turned away, she was reminded of being out in the middle of Market Street the night before last, picking up his helmet.
This evening, she was not going after the man.
Staying where she was, she listened to him walk down to the door. There was a clicking sound and then the subtle creak as things were opened and closed behind him.
The deflation in the aftermath was real, and so was the chill that shot through her skin and into her bones. Except what did Mary always say? Don’t take other people personally.
“Easy advice,” she muttered. “Until you’re sexually frustrated even after you’ve had three orgasms.”
Or was it four.
Getting up, she went down to the exit he’d put to use and locked things up. Then she walked through to the bedroom, where she paused for a moment to mourn all the perfectly pressed sheets and pristine duvet. In the bathroom, she was somewhat surprised to find the toiletries she usually used at home stocked in the drawers and the shower, down to her brand of toothpaste.
There were even changes of clothes in her size, as well as underwear, and shoes, in the walk-in closet.
Fritz Perlmutter was not paid enough, no matter how much he earned.
The impulse for a shower turned out to be a good one. Standing under the spray, she closed her eyes and pulled herself together—and when she failed, at least she had clean hair and a rosy glow.
It wasn’t until she was toweling off that she decided where to go, and after she dressed and blew out her hair, she returned to the sofa. The throw pillow that she’d shoved off the arm was hard to put back in place. In doing so, it was like she was erasing what had happened from her timeline.
Still, she was never again going to look at this couch without remembering what had happened on it.
God, she hoped that wasn’t true for all couches, everywhere.
Sitting down, but keeping her back stick straight, she settled her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. She wasn’t exactly sure how this was supposed to work, or even if she would be granted an audience in the Sanctuary by Lassiter the fallen angel. Compared to all the things going on in the vampire world, her little corner of chaos was nothing. But you were supposed to be able to ask for spiritual guidance if you needed it, right?
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out…
Was it like dematerializing? she wondered. Or something else?
As the drift of the heating system crossed her face, she heard voices out in the hall and the ding of the elevator. Somewhere above, someone was playing music on a very good sound system, the thumps subtle but not muddled—