Sculpting a Demon (5 page)

Arien shook his head. “Sorry, babe. Where you go, I go.”

“What?” she asked. “No way. I thought I was your Master. Doesn’t that mean you have to obey?” She harrumphed and shifted her shoulders. “And don’t call me ‘babe’.”

He shrugged. “Where you go, I go.”

“Why? Is that some kind of rule or something? Do you have to follow me everywhere?”

The only answer she got was that infuriating grin.

“Argh!” she groaned, throwing her hands up in the air. Getting a straight answer from him was next to impossible. “Fine. Do whatever you want. I have to shower.” She stomped across the loft and pulled towels from the linen closet.

He stretched out on the floor, crossed his long legs at the ankles and propped his head up on his hand. “So, where are we going?” he asked. If it was at all possible, his smile grew wider. “Master.”

Lila grunted. “Don’t be so smug. You’re only coming ’cause I don’t have time to argue with you.”

“Of course.”

“Right,” she muttered and rolled her eyes. “Of course.” She let out a long breath. “I have to go down to the gallery to make sure everything is in place for my show.”

“This…show… Is it important?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “It could be. There’s this big art festival happening here, so there’ll be lots of people in town. Critics, collectors, people with money and influence.” Her eyes took on a faraway cast, her head filled with all the possibilities. “It could mean a big break for me. Maybe lead to something really special.”

Arien rose gracefully off the floor and crossed the room to stand beside her. “I can make your show a success.”

“What?” she asked, startled by his declaration.

“I can make it so that everything you create sells. That you will never have to worry about money again. That you want for nothing. I can make it so your name will go down in history as one of the greatest artists of your time. Scholars will study your work for centuries after you are gone. Schools will be dedicated to your techniques.” He paused, looking deep into her eyes. “I can give you artistic immortality.”

Her eyes widened as all her wildest dreams sprang from his lips. All the things she had ever secretly longed for in the darkest hours of the night.

“Say the words,” he said, his deep voice husky, dripping promise. “Say the words and never again will you have to live in fear and doubt.” He stepped closer to her, so close she could feel his body heat. “Ask for fame. Ask for glory. I can make it all come true.” He bent down, his lips millimeters from her ear. “Ask,” he said, his breath gently stirring her hair. “And everything you have ever desired will be yours.”

Yes, she wanted everything he had said. Yes, she had dreamed of fame, longed for it for as long as she could remember. Some part of her needed that validation. Needed the recognition to make her life whole and complete and worthwhile. To be more than just another no-name, penniless “artist” with subpar talent, hoping for a dream that was beyond her capabilities. But this was wrong. Something was wrong. “No,” she said, taking a step back. Being so close to him made it difficult to think. “No, I don’t want any of that.”

“But you do,” he said, closing the gap between them. “And I can give it to you.”

“No,” she said more firmly. “That would be cheating.”

“Cheating?” he asked, and then laughed. “My darling Master, is it cheating to take advantage of every opportunity offered to you?”

She studied him for a long moment before answering. “But at what price?” she asked quietly. “These things have prices, don’t they?”

“You think I want your soul?”

“Isn’t that how it works?”

He chuckled. “I assure you, it is not your soul I desire right now.”

Lila laughed in spite of herself. “No more of that either. There are things I need to take care of today.” She gathered up her towel and clothes. “I’m going to shower.” She turned and headed toward the bathroom but stopped short when she noticed he was following her. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“The shower you keep talking about seems interesting. I thought I might join you,” he said, his lips curling in a shameless grin, a playful gleam in his eyes.

She was certain he could make the shower very interesting indeed, but the morning had been so crazy, so incredibly mind-blowing, she really needed to get away from him for a little while, have a quiet moment alone to think. To figure out what exactly she was going to with her newfound, very-yummy demon. Fucking his brains out for days on end was tempting but hardly a viable solution. She put her hand on his chest and solid muscle rippled beneath her fingers. “No more. I mean it.”

Something flashed through his eyes, but it was gone before Lila could determine what it had been. “As you command,” he said, and touched his fingertips to his lips, his heart and then bowed at the waist.

She didn’t know what those gestures meant, but one thing was for certain, the man was beauty in motion. She had never seen anyone move with anything close to the fluidity he possessed. She briefly wondered if he would move like that in her bed but quickly forced the thought away. “Just like that, huh?” she asked.

“Just like that,” he said. “I will not touch you again unless you implicitly request it.”

He agreed. She got what she wanted. Why was she so disappointed? “Good,” she said. “You wait here. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

He inclined his head to her.

She gave him one last look and then headed for the bathroom.

Arien watched the bathroom door click shut and then shook his head, thoroughly disgusted with himself. What was he doing? That woman scrambled his brains. None of this was going according to plan. Not that he made plans, but still. Not at all what he expected.

“I’m an idiot,” he mumbled, and flopped down on the couch. Staring at the ceiling, he went through the morning, trying to figure out where things went wrong.

First, there was the fact he had very nearly forced her into asking for fame and glory. That kind of overkill was totally not his style. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. Granted, he needed to find out what spell she had cast, but it was more than that. He
wanted
to give her those things. And not even because it would serve some greater scheme. But rather because he wanted to make her happy! Most disturbingly unusual.

Then, like some kind of crazed, desperate fool, he demanded—demanded!—that she take him along wherever she was going. There were far better things he could be doing with his time than following her around like some kind of lost puppy. But something deep within him insisted that he stay close to her. A little voice that gnawed at him, refusing to be silenced. He didn’t even want to begin to contemplate what that meant.

He glanced over at the bathroom door. He could all too easily picture water cascading down her small, naked body. Hot steam clouding the room. His hands roaming over her sleek, wet skin. Her soft moans and sighs as he lathered soap over her breasts, down her stomach, down to the sweet, secret center between her thighs.

He was halfway to his feet before he realized what he was doing. He couldn’t go in there. Yet another fool thing to add to the already long list of fool things he had done that morning. But this one might actually be all right. He just had to convince her that she wanted to be touched. It wouldn’t require all that much effort to get her to take that one back. At least he hoped not.

He settled back on the couch and closed his eyes. All in all, it seemed that he had gotten himself into a fine mess. Well, it was too late to worry about it now. Done was done. He’d just have to wait see how it all played out.

Chapter Five

The sky was overcast, one large gray cloud blanketing the entire city, and the thick air held the muggy promise of rain. Lila wiped the dampness off her forehead with the back of her hand as she locked the loft behind her. Arien, standing patiently by her side, seemed unaffected by the weather, perfectly put together and regally elegant in his black attire.

“You don’t sweat?” she asked, unable to hide her irritation. It wasn’t fair that he should be so cool and composed while the humidity destroyed her hair and generally made her one big mess.

He raised one eyebrow. “Not unless I want to.”

“I don’t suppose you want to now?”

“Why would I?” he asked, and then flashed her that wildly sexy, mischievous grin. “I can think of far better ways to work up a sweat.”

Laughing softly—the man was incorrigible!—Lila led him out of the building and they walked up 21st to where her car was parked. As they passed St. Stanislaus, she gave him a quick side-glance and sighed in relief that he still seemed relatively normal.

Arien looked out the window as they drove, tapping his knuckles gently against the glass. “Have we entered the domain of some powerful sect?” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence they shared.

Lila smiled as her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He pointed at a family clad in identical Steelers jerseys standing on the curb. “Almost everyone we have passed has been dressed exactly like those people.”

Lila laughed. She had become so used to seeing people decked out in their black and gold finest, football season or not, she no longer noticed the anomaly. “They love the Steelers here.”

“Stealers?” he asked, arching his eyebrow. “They revere thieves?”

“No,” she said, laughing harder. “Steel. As in metal.”

Arien frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Lila could only shake her head. “Neither do I.”

They parked a short distance from the gallery, and as they walked, Lila gaped as the people on the sidewalk parted for him. No one ever got out her way. Then again, she wasn’t over six feet of solid muscle either. She glanced around and saw that most of the women who moved aside, stood and watched him pass. She supposed she would have done the same—he was gorgeous after all—but that knowledge didn’t quell the sharp spikes of jealously that rose in her gut as women she knew were much more attractive than she was openly admired him.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Why?”

He cocked his head to the side, studying her. “You’re scowling. Have these people done something to offend you? Say the word, my Master, and I will crush them all for you.”

Lila nearly tripped over her own feet. He was going to
crush
them for her? She knew she should have been appalled by his causal offer of extreme violence on her behalf, but instead she was oddly flattered. “No,” she said. “It’s all right.” And because he seemed so disappointed, she added, “Maybe later.”

“As you wish,” he said quietly, a small smile on his lips.

The Detour Gallery was housed in an old brick building at the very beginning of the Cultural District, between the Convention Center and the Marriott. The huge windows were dark, but Lila could see a couple of her pieces prominently displayed within. A small shiver of anticipation raced down her spine as she rang the doorbell of the side entrance. Maybe this would be The One. The ultimate
one
.

“Are you going to behave?” she asked Arien as they waited to be admitted.

“What are you implying?” he asked, his face the very picture of innocence.

“I’m not implying anything,” she said. “I’m saying straight-out that if you’re planning on doing anything wonky, you best stay outside.”

“Wonky?”

“Yes, wonky,” she said.

That trademark grin of his danced across his lips. “Define wonky.”

The heavy metal door opened and a man in a slightly rumpled though clearly expensive vintage suit smiled at them. “Hello! You must be Lila. I’m Mark,” he said, and shook her hand. “Please come in.” He stepped aside to allow them to enter and then locked the door behind them.

“I know you’ve been dealing with my partner Brian, but he’s out of town at the moment,” Mark said as he led them down a twisting hallway decorated with graffiti. “He was very impressed with your collection and I have to say, I am as well. Your work invokes such powerful mythologies and nostalgia. Really quite unique.”

“Thank you,” Lila said as they entered the showroom. “I’m very excited for the show.”

“We all are,” Mark said. He looked Arien up and down. “Is this your agent?’ he asked.

“This is…”
This is who? My dream lover? My demon servant? Right.
“This is Arien.”

“Arien,” Mark said, shaking his hand. The handshake Arien returned must have been exceedingly firm because Mark grimaced. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Let’s have a look around.”

Lila tried to pay attention as Mark led them though the space, but her focus kept wandering back to Arien. Her eyes traced the breadth of his shoulders, his broad chest, narrow waist, the way his ass filled out those tightly tailored pants. His body was truly a work of art, but as magnificent as it was, it was the small things that held her gaze. That made her heart race and her cheeks grow warm. Things like the way his dark hair curled around his ears. The sharp, perfect line of his jaw. The tendons on the backs of his large hands. The hint of his collarbones peeking out from beneath his shirt.