jets, then rested her head on the back of the tub and closed her eyes.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had indulged like this, maybe never. Growing up had been tough and meager as she’d moved around with her dad and brother, chasing monsters around the country. She’d never had a manicure or a pedicure. She knew how to dress like a lady and act like one, something she’d learned from magazines and TV, but she’d never ever felt like one. Until this very second.
She wondered how Ronan knew this had been what she’d needed and wanted. Sometimes she questioned whether he could read her mind. Maybe the demon blood in his veins gave him certain abilities. Reading her might very well be one. God, she hoped not. It could get embarrassing for her if he could.
Or it could’ve been the man inside him. An instinct that drove a man to want to pamper a woman, to shield her, to protect her, to love her....
Her eyes flashed open at that. Licking her lips, she realized how tight her throat was. She sighed, then laid her head back again. She had better keep her thoughts straight. On the plan. On the mission. And not on the man with the hard face and soft heart sitting on the sofa in the other room.
For the next hour and a half, Ronan ate, finished sharpening his knives, reloaded his gun and paced the room trying not to think of Ivy naked and wet and soapy in the bathtub.
A half hour ago, she’d slipped out of the bathroom wrapped in one of the complimentary terry-cloth white robes, grabbed some food, ate it then took her bag and went back in.
Then he started thinking about her getting dressed after lathering her skin with moisturizers and body lotions. The thought had actually made him start to sweat.
So instead he busied himself getting dressed for the big event. They were going in chic casual, so as not to stick out like sore thumbs. But he had a feeling Ivy was going to stick out anyway. And not as a sore thumb, but as an enchantress. Even in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she was dangerously beautiful. He couldn’t imagine what it would do to him to see her in the little black number he knew she’d bought for tonight.
He took a sip of the scotch he’d poured earlier and paced the room some more waiting for her to emerge. Finally, the bathroom door opened.
And he nearly dropped his glass.
The silky black material, what little there was, clung to her generous curves as she walked into the room. Her pale skin glowed like moonlight in contrast with the dark dress. She was wearing a short blond wig, which showcased the long sweep of her elegant neck. There was a spot just below her ear that he had a sudden urge to trail his tongue up and down.
He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and said, “Um, wow, Ivy, you look, um...”
His stammering made her smile, and pink stained her cheeks. She was blushing, just a little. “Thank you.”
“You look amazing,” he said, after finally collecting his senses.
Her gaze studied him, as well. “So do you, actually.”
Ronan ran a hand down his shirt. He’d settled on simple dark wool trousers and a button-up dress shirt in a shade of navy. “Thanks. Feels weird without my leather, though.”
She laughed. “I know what you mean.”
He ran his gaze over her from head to toe, taking every glorious inch of her in. Then he paused. “Ah, where are your blades?”
She lifted one brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, actually I would.”
“Well, you’re not getting a peep show, so just forget about it.” She picked up her clutch purse from the table. He knew inside she had holy water, blessed chalk, angelica, a silver cross that pulled out into a dagger and some premade devil’s-trap stickers. You just peeled off the back and stuck it onto a chair, or the floor, or anywhere you wanted the demon to be held. He’d heard about Ivy’s invention and it was pretty cool.
As satisfied as he was going to get, he offered his arm to her. “Shall we?”
With a little shake of her head and a twitch of her lips, she took his arm and they left the room in search of their target.
The View Lounge was busy when they stepped off the elevator and entered. Most of the orange and yellow chairs were occupied. There were a few people standing together in various groups, talking and laughing. A lot of eyes turned toward them as they approached the bar. Ronan figured it was all because of Ivy. Except there were a few pairs of female eyes sizing him up.
They went to the bar, thankfully found two vacant stools and ordered. Ivy ordered a raspberry martini and he had a scotch on the rocks. Once they had their respective drinks, they surveyed the bar for Sallos.
The plan was for Ivy to lure the demon away from the crowd, preferably near the elevators and stairwell exit. Ronan would slap a devil’s trap on him and they could carry him out, down the stairs to a remote place to question him and ultimately end him. But Ronan knew that even the best-laid plans could go to shit.
It didn’t take long to find him. The demon was predictable, at best. Ronan spotted a pair of older women sitting at a table near the immense window, and Sallos was holding court. Both women looked completely enthralled with him, hanging on to every word he spoke.
“Found him.”
Ivy leaned into him, as if to whisper something private. “Where?”
“Ten o’clock.”
With her drink to her mouth, she swirled in her seat and checked it out. “He seems pretty comfortable.”
“Yeah, both ladies look hooked. Do you think he’d take both?”
“I wouldn’t put it past the bastard. He’s in show-off mode now that he thinks he’s escaped us twice.”
“Maybe we should wait until he makes his move out of here. By the way those two are looking at him, and their body language, I would say that will be very soon.”
“When they go, you slap him with the trap and I’ll make sure the women are removed from the situation.”
“Now, be nice.”
She smiled and it was sexy and wicked and made his stomach clench. “I’m always nice.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, but he smiled in return.
For the next thirty minutes, Ronan and Ivy drank their drinks and watched Sallos as he seduced the two women. It wasn’t long before the three of them stood, giving each other those knowing looks. The looks that said they had made the decision to leave together and finish their evening in privacy.
Ronan and Ivy waited as the trio passed them to head toward the bank of elevators. They set their empty drink glasses on the bar, then slid off the bar stools. Ivy slipped him one of her devil’s-trap stickers, then started for the elevators.
Tucking the decal in the palm of his right hand, Ronan wrapped his other hand around Ivy’s waist. She didn’t protest when he pulled her closer. They needed to keep up the pretense as a happy couple just until they reached the elevators. Also, he liked having her close. Her scent, mixed with the vanilla she’d bathed in, wafted to his nose and he inhaled it deep.
As they neared the little elevator lobby, Ronan sensed something was wrong. He paused and pulled Ivy tighter to him.
She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“Something’s off.”
Before Ivy could respond, the two older women came flying out from the enclave, teeth bared, fingers twisted into claws. They shrieked like banshees as they attacked Ronan and Ivy.
Ronan blocked his face from nails tearing him apart. He pushed one woman away but she came back, just as fierce, eyes wild, foaming at the mouth. Ivy was having just as much trouble with the brunette attacking her.
