Poppy took down a mug from the cupboard, then stopped, bracing her hands on the edge of the countertop. What was she doing? She felt like she’d just made a deal with the devil. An affair with Killian?
Could she really do that?
She snorted quietly to herself. Oh, she could do it. Last night proved that. But could she do what he was suggesting? Sex without attaching to him? Nothing more than friends?
She couldn’t deny that she had chemistry with him. And clearly he felt the chemistry too, or why else would he suggest the arrangement?
She pulled in a calming breath and reached for the coffee carafe. She refilled her mug and then poured his. As she stirred in her cream and sugar, she realized one thing. The fact they were going to have sex, or rather more sex, was kind of inevitable.
So maybe having an up-front, discussed agreement was better. She would go in with her eyes wide open and enjoy this for what it was. And maybe she needed to take a risk and do something a little wild.
See, there already was a change in her. A change that might let her open up to other opportunities in the future.
She picked up the mugs and carried them back to the living room. Killian lifted his head from the back of the sofa as she entered.
Lines pulled at the sides of his mouth. She hadn’t noticed them before, and she wondered if he was already regretting his suggestion.
Then he smiled when she held out the cup to him. His fingers brushed hers as he took the handle. Jolts like electricity snapped between them.
No, she decided, this wasn’t wrong. It
“So what’s the plan?” she asked, feeling nervous.
He took a sip of his coffee, looking the picture of calm, which seemed hardly fair, then said, “Well I know you need to work today. So I’m going to actually let you do that.”
She frowned. She did need to work, but this didn’t sound like the setup to a torrid affair to her.
“Then,” he continued, “you are going to get all dressed up.”
“Dressed up how?”
He smiled, the curl of his lips utterly naughty. “Are you expecting me to ask for a corset, stockings and high heels?”
She shrugged, offering him a look that stated she had no idea.
“Well, I’m definitely not opposed to that, but tonight, you are going to get dressed up in your best dress. The high heels are optional, because I know you hate them. For both outfits,” he added, his naughty smile widening.
She couldn’t help smiling back. “Thank you.”
“Then I’m going to come pick you up at six.”
She waited for him to continue, but instead he took another sip of his coffee. He set the mug down on the table and stood.
“Wait,” she said, when she realized he was planning to leave. “That’s it?”
He grinned, his golden eyes flickering with inner light. “Impatient, huh?”
Poppy blushed. Did she seem too desperate? She probably did.
Then he walked over to her, reaching to take the coffee cup from her hands. He placed it on the table, and turned back to her, taking her hands, his larger ones enveloping them. He pulled her to her feet.
Their eyes locked, and she could see desire flashing in his eyes’ depths. Heat filled her.
He leaned in and kissed her. His lips clung to hers. A sweet, lingering, wonderful kiss.
He pulled away slowly as if he didn’t really want to end the embrace, but he did, his gaze returning hers.
“I want to stay, but I’m going to leave. You work. I’ll—work. And we will have tonight.”
She nodded. Waiting did seem wise, even though her body thought it was the dumbest idea ever.
He kissed her again, this one a quick peck.
“See you at six.”
She nodded, still speechless.
He left the apartment, and she remained rooted to the spot.
Six. Part of her was eager and excited. And part of her was terrified.
This was going to be a long day.
CHAPTER 30
“You are attracted to her.”
Killian frowned, looking around, wondering if he was somehow hearing his own voice, aloud.
Then the mangy white cat leapt up onto the kitchen counter.
“Vepar,” he muttered. “You really need a hobby.”
“A hobby like your little mortal perhaps?”
Killian gritted his teeth. Damn, he really disliked this jerk—a dislike that was intensifying with each of these unorthodox visits.
The cat paced the kitchen counter, its mangled tail flicking.
“Poppy is her name, right?”
Killian didn’t answer, not seeing any point. Why was Vepar here? Killian knew he did have to go back to Hell at some point, probably sooner rather than later, but that wasn’t Vepar’s call.
“She’s quite lovely. I can see where she’d be a delightful little hobby.”
Killian immediately tensed, glaring at Vepar. “When have you seen her?” He’d assumed Vepar knew Poppy’s name from him, not that he recalled saying it, but there was no way he should have seen her. Not if he’d only been possessing this awful cat.
Then Killian recalled the man from the art show.
“You were there last night.”
Vepar pulled back the cat’s lips in a sneer. “I was. She was delightful. And so tempting. But I doubt Satan would be as understanding.”
Killian growled low in his throat and lunged for the cat. Vepar jumped away, darting past Killian’s legs and out of the room.
“Satan would love to hear about the dalliance that’s keeping you from your work, now wouldn’t he?” Vepar called from somewhere in the living room.
Killian stood in the middle of the living room, scanning the room for grayish-white fur.
“Vepar, you stay away from her. Or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Satan is not pleased. I’d be more worried about that, if I were you.”
Vepar purred, the sound loud and oddly perverse. Then the room fell silent.
Killian growled again. Was Vepar telling the truth? Was Satan that angered by Killian’s absence? Killian didn’t quite believe him. But at the same time, Vepar had been at the art gallery. That was why Killian hadn’t been able to use his mind control, and that was why he’d sensed something off about that man. The guy had been possessed by Vepar.
“Just kill her,” Vepar’s earlier words echoed through Killian’s head. Would Vepar do that? He would if Satan ordered it.
The only thing Killian knew for certain was Poppy had to be guarded.
Poppy made a frustrated sound low in her throat as she tossed down the mascara wand and reached for a tissue. So far, getting ready for the evening had been nothing but an exercise in frustration.
Much like the day in general. Killian had been mostly true to his word, letting her work, although he’d stopped by twice. Just to say hi, he’d said, but she’d sensed a tenseness about him.
Maybe he was honestly as nervous about all this as she was.
She swiped at her watering eye and the smudge of black that now marred her cheek. And her nerves were
