Wicked Pleasure (3 page)

He narrowed his gaze on her,
through
her, to the confused person inside. She tried to rub away a slight pressure between her eyes. Great. A sinus headache would complete the night.

“So your cell phone thinks Liz is a demon?” His voice was a husky murmur that would be right at home on a foggy London street at midnight, quietly menacing with a promise that danger could be deliciously tempting.

Kim forced herself to blink before her eyeballs dried out. “It thinks
everyone's
a demon.” True. “My brother programmed it to accuse people of being demons as a joke.” Not true.

“The laws of probability would suggest that it might be right sometimes.” His soft laughter shivered along all of her nerve endings. “If demons existed.”

He leaned closer to her, but she couldn't move, couldn't
breathe
. Thankfully, the scary emotions had disappeared. She didn't question why.

But holy cow, would you look at him! Six feet plus of broad-shouldered, hard-muscled body. Fine, so she couldn't testify to any bare-body specifics because he was wearing a black tux and what looked like a black silk shirt. But only a hard-muscled body would do justice to that
face
.

Kim drew in a deep breath before she turned as purple as Fo's eyes. “Sure.
If
demons existed. They don't, so the message is a big ha-ha.”

Right now demons weren't on her personal radar screen. Where did great looking cross the line into spectacular? This guy not only had leaped across the spectacular line but was closing in fast on unbelievable.
No one
looked this good. If he were a building, he'd be the Chrysler Building in New York City, one of her personal choices for most magnificent building in the world.

Liz moved up to put a proprietary hand on his arm. “We need to get going, Brynn.”

The man, Brynn, deliberately glanced at his watch. “Not yet.” He didn't look at Liz, and his words were shards of chipped ice. Didn't sound too lover-like to Kim. In fact, he moved away from Liz's grasp and closer to Kim.

While Brynn was eyeing the time, Kim was ogling him. Hey, scenery this good came along once in a millennium. She couldn't tell much about his hair other than it was at least shoulder-length, because he'd pulled it away from his face and secured it with a leather tie. In the uncertain mixture of light and shadow she wasn't sure about its color. Maybe rain-darkened blond.

He shifted his attention back to Kim. “You don't believe in demons, but let's say they existed, in theory of course. And just for the hell of it, let's say your cell phone could really identify them. Would your cell phone also be able to destroy them?”

There was a dark eagerness to his question that would've normally registered on her really-weird scale, but she was still too wrapped up in the glory of his face.

“Yeah, I guess so.” His
face
. If you just listed each feature—firm jaw, full lower lip, wide-spaced eyes—you might dismiss him as merely another example of yummy maleness in a world loaded with delish guys.

This man had all the intangibles, though. Every woman who ever looked at him would recognize his sensual, dangerous, and primal call. Kim didn't know many women who wouldn't answer. He was simply perfect. And since Kim never trusted perfect in an imperfect world, she was instantly suspicious.

Uh-huh. Time for a teeny tiny bit of self-honesty here. If Mr. Sinfully Sexy crooked his perfect finger, she'd probably leap on him, knock him down right here in front of the castle, rip his clothes from his body, and have her wicked way with him. Kim took a deep, calming breath. Yeah, she'd still be suspicious, but who said she couldn't have a good time while she waited for him to do something dastardly, hmm?

“Come on, Brynn. I'm cold, and it'll be time in”—Liz leaned over to glance at his watch—“five minutes.”

She sounded whiny, and the malicious enjoyment Kim got from the thought surprised her. And what exactly would happen in five minutes?

“You may as well go back inside, Liz, because I want to talk to Kim for a few minutes about her cell phone. In fact, I guess I've officially been with
Kim
for the last four minutes. So all bets are off. Enjoy the rest of your night.” More shocking than Brynn's terse dismissal of Liz, was Liz's response.

“You'll pay for this next time.” She didn't look perky anymore, just royally pissed off. “I'm starved.” Liz speared him with her gaze, and Kim couldn't remember ever seeing such open sexual hunger on any woman's face. She cast Kim a speculative glance before turning and striding away from the castle, anger in every click of her heels.

Away from the castle? Didn't they have food inside? Maybe she didn't want food. Kim figured Liz had a pretty healthy appetite for Brynn's body.
Say something.
“Uh, this is probably none of my business, but I think I missed something.”

He lifted his face to the light breeze that had suddenly kicked up and closed his eyes. “Liz and I play a game each night. She lost this time.” He opened his eyes and then stepped closer.

For the first time she got a good look at his eyes in the full light . . . and forgot to breathe. The big bang theory became real for Kim in that moment, because looking into Brynn's eyes opened up a whole new personal universe for her.

She was surprised he couldn't hear the kaboom kaboom of her heartbeat. Kim controlled the need to flatten her hand over the organ in question so it wouldn't leap from her chest. Chasing your heart down the street would be so not cool.

There were a thousand stories in his eyes, and they were all sexual. Color? Old whiskey held up to candlelight so that the rich gold shone through—potent, ageless, and . . .
Warm
should be the next word on her list. It wasn't. Every emotion she'd felt just a few minutes ago shone in those eyes. Cold. So cold. She exhaled sharply and shivered.

Forcing her gaze away from those eyes, she tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

“You saved me from a night of mindless sex.” He didn't smile when he said it.

Mindless sex? The men she'd known would salivate like Pavlov's pooch at the mention of mindless sex. She didn't understand him, and she certainly didn't understand his emotions that had sort of wandered off course and found her. “Gotcha. Well, I guess I'll take a peek into the great hall. Are you coming in, too?”

“No.” His gaze drifted beyond her into the night. “I think I'll walk for a while. There's a certain pleasure in aloneness. Don't you feel it? The quiet. The
peace
.” His voice was smoke, sex, and warm, secret places.

She would've believed his voice if she hadn't looked into his eyes first. Warm wasn't part of his agenda. Kim finally managed to move. She stepped back. Standing too close to those waves of pheromones couldn't be good for her sensual well-being. “You're right. I wouldn't mind being alone more.” She couldn't help it if she sounded a little wistful. She was supposed to keep Fo with her all the time, and the detector didn't have an Off button. So essentially Kim was never alone.

She had a feeling that
his
“alone” meant something else. Could a man ever get too much female adoration? The thought was revolutionary. But Kim could almost imagine what would happen inside the castle if all the women knew he was outside by himself. There'd be a bloody catfight, dozens of women scratching and clawing at each other. The winner would eventually drag her battered body out here to claim her prize. Kim frowned. Something touched her that felt uncomfortably close to envy.

“Would you mind if I took a quick look at your cell phone before you go inside?” He'd shifted closer again, invading her space, bringing with him the scent of wicked joys and dark fantasies.

“Oh, sure.” She reached for her real cell phone in her other pocket and prayed he hadn't seen which pocket held Fo.

“I don't think so.” He covered her hand with his larger one, and she swore she felt the heat from his touch all the way to her backbone. “I think
this
is your talkative little phone.” He dipped his fingers into her other pocket and pulled out Fo.

Damn. Kim snatched Fo from his fingers, flipped the detector open so he could see, and hoped for a miracle. One in which the screen remained blank and Fo remained silent.

It wasn't her night for miracles. Fo's huge purple eyes blinked open, and she stared at Brynn. Only the slight widening of Fo's eyes gave warning, but Kim knew what was coming and was helpless to stop it. Now Kim knew how the Wicked Witch of the East had felt just before Dorothy's house flattened her.

“Woohoo! DemondemonDEMON!” Fo's small case pulsed with excitement. “Big beeeautiful DEMON. Can we keep him for a while before we destroy him? Huh, can we?”

Kim closed her eyes and wished for an out-of-body experience. Preferably one that would take her at least a mile from this man. “I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth, Fo.” Kim's hissed threat didn't seem to slow down Fo's happy vibrating.

All right, she'd have to open her eyes sometime. He'd either be surprised or amused. Those were the usual responses to one of Fo's outbursts. Except for the president's secret service. It took a lot to surprise or amuse them. Fo had barely escaped with her nano-parts intact.

Drawing in a deep breath of courage, Kim opened her eyes. Then blinked. He was fascinated. Really fascinated. He carefully removed Fo from her nerveless fingers.

“It's a joke. It's only a cell phone. My brother programmed her, umm, it, to say that. It didn't mean what it said. I mean, she's, uh, it's not real, so it didn't know . . .”
Shut up.
Kim closed her mouth and waited for his response to that bit of hysteria.

He narrowed his eyes as he studied Fo. Fo studied him right back. “What happens if I press this button?” He indicated the red Destroy button.

“Not much. A little noise, a little light. Pretty harmless.”
Unless you're a demon.
“The whole thing's a gag. I've been trying to tell you that.”

She reached for Fo and then watched in horror as his finger hovered over the red button. The demon-destroying beam would get him right in the face. It wouldn't kill a human, but it would blind him for about a half hour. She didn't need to start her new job with him clutching his face and accusing her of trying to kill him.

Kim ripped Fo from his fingers. “It was great meeting you, but it's chilly standing out here.” She clicked Fo shut and put the detector back into her pocket.

She refused to meet his gaze, but Kim sensed his amusement . . . and something more, something darker.

“When you're ready to go in, just press that button, and someone will greet you.” He pointed to a button beside the doors. “Welcome to the Castle of Dark Dreams, Kim.” Then he turned and strode away.

Bemused, she watched him until he disappeared in the darkness, and then she reached for the doorbell.

“Would you like a brochure, dearie?” The voice behind her said, senior citizen with a capital S.

Kim gave a startled squeak and leaped away from the door. Okay, so with everything that had happened tonight she had a right to be jumpy. She turned to meet the sharp gaze of a walking stereotype.

The woman looked old. Very old. Her white hair was short with waves that marched across her head in perfect order. Small wireframed glasses perched on the end of her nose. A round face, faded blue eyes, a small mouth, and many many wrinkles completed the picture of everybody's grandmother.

Trouble was, Kim's grandmother didn't look like this. Grandma was slim, trim, and stylish, with great hair. She'd threatened to give all her money to cat charities unless her family promised to make sure when they laid her out that no gray roots showed and that she had fresh highlights. Grandma wasn't going to knock on the pearly gates looking like a night hag.

Kim glanced down at the brochure the woman held out to her. The grandma image continued. White cardigan, baggy, flowered dress that showed the tops of knee-highs when the wind caught the edges of her skirt, and black, chunky shoes.

Kim took the brochure because she didn't want to insult the woman. “Thanks.”

The woman smiled at Kim. It was a prim smile. “I'm Miss Abby. Taught first grade for thirty-five years here in Galveston. Kids'll either kill you or make you stronger. I got stronger. When I retired, I started my own business. Ye Olde Victorian Wedding Chapel. I'll marry you in style.”

What to say? “Umm, I don't think—”

“That's the trouble today, youngsters don't think. Keep the brochure. You never know when you might meet the perfect young man and want to hitch up with him in a hurry. In my day, young ladies didn't just up and marry someone fast unless they were in a family way. But times change.” Her expression said not for the better.

Family way? Who said things like that nowadays? “I guarantee I won't be needing a wedding chapel.” Not unless Mr. Ordinary popped out of the castle wall.

The woman waved at her. “Keep the brochure. Pass it on if you can't use it.” She walked past Kim. “I have to leave a pile of them in the lobby. Get a lot of business from the castle.”

Strange. Miss Abby's walk was a lot more chipper than the rest of her. But a faint squeaking distracted Kim from Miss Abby's walk. Birds? Not at night. “Do you hear a squeaking noise?”

Miss Abby glanced back at Kim. “That's my girdle, dearie. Every lady should wear one.” Her gaze said no girdle, no lady. She didn't give the button a second glance as she pulled the door open and disappeared inside.

Kim was on Miss Abby's slut list, but somehow she couldn't drum up the energy to care. She'd take a look at the great hall and then spend the rest of her night trying to reason away Brynn's very scary emotions that had scraped off on her.