power calling to his, a siren song of perfect destruction.
“Let me show you, Karma. Live a little.” He rested a finger against the nape of her neck, half-expecting her to sear his skin with the heat of that first touch. She was smooth, soft ivory, cool marble and hard diamond—all that promising heat buried beneath layers of icy reserve, but he could feel it. An echo, a tremor, a promise of wildness to come. He stroked his finger slowly up the arch of her neck. “Say yes…”
Chapter Four
Karma’s entire existence revolved around a single, long finger slowly stroking her neck. Was Prometheus going to kiss her? Was this how he hoped to gain her cooperation? By seduction? Did he really think she was susceptible to that?
“Let me go.” The demand lacked the heat she’d wanted behind it. He wasn’t holding her really, the door at her back was doing that for him. “I listened to what you had to say. I heard you out. Now let me leave.”
“Why won’t you say you’ll help me, Karma?” he asked, his voice seeming to come at her from all sides at once. “Why this stubbornness?”
She struggled to reclaim her brain, tried to remember the logical reasons why any sort of interaction with Prometheus was dangerous, reckless. Karma was never reckless. She was calm. She was control. Restraint was power. Control was its own reward.
So why did Prometheus’s finger, just a single finger, stroking the nape of her neck in slow, deliberate lines, make all her careful control unravel? Why did her neatly organized thoughts scatter? It wasn’t chemistry; it was something else, something much more dangerous.
That was why she could never say yes.
Which was selfish. Was she really refusing to help him, refusing to save his
“Please, Karma.”
Was she denying him because deep down she wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to bask in the seductive proximity of his power, and she was terrified of letting that part have its way?
“Okay.”
The word was barely audible. It invited him closer. Prometheus leaned in, his breath brushing against her face in ways that made her want to press against him and revel in his warmth like a cat. “What was that?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll help you reclaim your heart.”
The lights flashed and she felt that power surge zap through her shoulder blades where they touched the glass door. An invisible energy snapped shut around her, her own words the key that locked her prison as she felt the spell surge. A gasp ripped from her throat.
Prometheus stepped back, returning her space to her own care, a smile curling his lips that made what she felt a pathetic cousin to uneasiness.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
He shrugged, the graceful raise of his shoulders distinctly Gallic. “Just made sure you keep your promises.”
“
“Ah, we’ve come to the mercenary portion of the evening. My favorite.”
“My earlier terms still apply. You will stop harassing my people and protect them from any harm, you will make amends and you will use your powers for good. By working for me.”
“Could be amusing. For how long?”
Karma considered for a moment. “Three weeks.”
“One.”
“Three. One of my best finders is backlogged—”
“Ten days.”
“Three weeks,” she snapped, refusing to budge.
“You don’t seem to understand how to barter. I’ll give you two.”
“You don’t seem to understand that this isn’t a negotiation. Three. You’re a businessman. You must realize this is a good bargain for you. Three weeks in exchange for your life.”
“Three weeks of being
“Take the deal, Prometheus.”
“You already said you would help me.”
“I agreed to help. I didn’t say how hard I was going to try.”
He cursed softly. “Three weeks?”
“Three weeks of shining, angelic behavior and I will tear hell apart to reclaim your heart.” He would be one of hers, if he lasted the three weeks, and there was nothing she didn’t do for her people.
“Done.” The word held an eerie finality.
Satisfaction lurched against her, more forcefully than she’d anticipated. “Excellent. I’ll expect you at my offices first thing Monday morning. I trust you know where they are?”
He smiled. “You trust correctly.”
She nodded, trying to look professional, like his employer rather than a woman who had been undone by a single stroke of his index finger. “Good. Now unlock this door.”
One brow arched. “That door? Was it locked?”
The door swung open an inch, bumping against her shoulders and shoving her farther into the room. “Bastard.”
He bowed. “Until Monday, Karma. Sleep well, angel.”
He disappeared into a back room before she could make a satisfyingly dramatic exit. Skulking out with those words lingering behind him, taunting her. It was as if the bastard somehow knew she’d been plagued by insomnia her entire life.
She moved out of the door’s path and it swung open all the way. Deciding it was best to take advantage of the exit before Prometheus changed his mind, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, the night air closing around her. She didn’t bother trying to slam the door behind her. It closed on its own with a near-silent click.
The warm summer night should have been comforting after the over air-conditioned shop, but she felt a more distinct chill now than she had in the damn warlock’s presence. The man was a human furnace.
If he even counted as human without a beating heart.
Karma shuddered. What had she gotten herself into? Deals with the devil were dangerous to meddle in. Why had she said yes?
Because she was a good person and she helped people. Even those who didn’t particularly deserve it. Or because Prometheus had implanted the idea that she was a good person and helping him would somehow prove that?
She strode quickly toward her car, feeling more in control with each step away from the shop. That hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but she could handle it. She could handle anything. She was still in control.
No matter what Prometheus and his wandering fingers thought.
