The Englishman crossed his arms over his sizable chest and glared at the broken window. “Don’t get me started on him right now.”
As he stayed silent in the midst of the chaos, anger boiled deep inside of her again, sharpening her tone. “Okay, well, how about you help me with myself, then.”
When he transferred that narrowed stare to her, she noticed that his eyes were a color she’d never seen before—and wasn’t that a good reminder that she was dealing with something way outside of normal. Maybe something dangerous.
For a split second, she thought about backing down—except then she reminded herself that she had nothing to lose: She’d already been in Hell, and her life as she’d known it here on Earth was over.
So what the good goddamn could he do to her.
“I’m waiting,” she snapped.
Chapter Twenty
“You know, I’m more than willing to nurse you back to health.”
When Jim didn’t reply, Devina glanced across the seat. The angel was steaming pissed, big-time banged-up, and in the most pathetic excuse for a hospital johnny she’d ever seen—and he was still captivating in a way that made her think of her OCD.
She wanted him that badly.
“You could come and stay with me for a while,” she said.
He glared over at her, the glow from the strips of blue lights that ran down the Mercedes’s doors making him seem deliciously evil. “I already have roommates. You killed one of them, remember?”
She batted that stupidity away. “Please. Eddie should have seen that coming, and because he didn’t, he got what he deserved. How is the dear boy, by the way? Still smelling like a rose?”
Jim just looked out the front windshield, that jaw clenching, his hand curling into a tight fist.
Yummy.
Coming up to a stoplight, she began to get excited. They were together again, alone at last, and how could all kinds of dating scenarios not go through her mind? Maybe they could head back to the dirty part of town, park the car, and go see some after-hours p**n ? The strip clubs were closed, which was a bummer—then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around him while he was looking at naked women. She was liable to kill the bitches.
Yeah, seeing p**n movies in public sounded like a great idea—with some live action between the pair of them as a chaser. With that annoying vestal virgin around, she wanted to filthy him up. Get him nice and nasty so that when he went home and little Sissy-Two-shoes looked up at him with those big blue eyes, he felt ashamed of where he’d been and what he’d done.
On that note, maybe she should just pull over and blow him?
When he kept quiet, she checked him out. The angel was still sitting there, looking incredibly bangable—as well as hostile. And wasn’t that the perfect combination. For her, aggression and hatred were Molly and oysters, baby.
And she wasn’t the only one who was into that shit. Jim liked it, too—in fact, she thought fondly of their last private time, down by the river, in that boathouse. The two of them had been so pissed off and sexed up. So hot. So f**king hot…
Try giving him some of that, Sissy Barten.
“I’m surprised you got in the car,” Devina said in a moment of weakness.
“This way I know where you are.”
The demon put a hand to her collarbone. “I’m touched.”
“Don’t be.”
Oh, wasn’t that his way, she thought with a smile. Fighting the inevitable with everything he had—even though he had to know he was going to give in, in the end, and let them have what they both wanted.
At least … she had to believe that he would, even with that girl in his possession.
Surely that wasn’t going to change things.
Right?
Abruptly unsettled, Devina drove around the junkie part of town, passing by abandoned houses, and storefronts that were boarded up. Her Benz got noticed, the humans who were lying against the buildings and propped up at the bases of cracked stairwells looking over as she went by—and not just because hers was the only car on the street.
Jim still wasn’t saying anything.
And that made her feel unstable.
“There’s a knife in my purse.” She nodded at the Gucci sack between them. “If you’re feeling like you have to let something out.”
Some hard-core foreplay was probably just what the doctor ordered for the pair of them—oh, yeah, she was getting hot just thinking about it—
“I’m not going to kill myself over you.”
She glanced back over. “I was thinking you might like to come at me—or in me, even better.”
“Never going to happen.”
Devina bore down on the steering wheel. “You know, you don’t treat me very well.”
The laugh he let out was a curse if she’d ever heard one. “You’re f**king incredible.”
Devina smiled. “Why, thank you.”
“Not a compliment.”
“I’ll take it any way I choose.”
She stopped at a traffic light and thought, Hmmm, maybe if they went classy, she’d have more success.
Hitting the directional signal, she doubled back and headed for the world-famous Freidmont Hotel. Located in the heart of Caldwell’s business district, it was the grande dame of downtown, a place where the old ways were still preserved: the doormen wore white gloves, the concierge was available at his desk in the lobby twenty-four hours a day, and the tub in your suite’s bathroom was deep as an Olympic swimming pool.
Romance. She could use some romance. And she’d still have her knife with her if they wanted to get a little kinky.
Ten minutes later, she pulled up to the regal facade.
Jim looked over. “What’s this for?”
“I thought we could get a room.”
“For what.”
Devina frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t actually think I’m going to f**k you.”
Feeling like she’d been slapped across the face, Devina had to blink her vision clear. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“You actually think I’m going to spend the night with you—”
“I just want us to be together—”
“Then you are totally delusional, bitch.”
Losing her temper, she spat, “I’m trying to make this work, Jim. Even after everything you’ve done to me!”
“What exactly have I done to you? Other than save your sorry ass with that trade we just did.”