Naughty Karma

never sleep in.”

Prometheus shrugged, casually evicting another I never from her lexicon. He stood, stretching the kinks from his back. “It’s not like it’s a crime. It’s Saturday. Everyone sleeps in on Saturday.”

“I don’t.”

“Relax, Karma. Even you are allowed to sleep in once in your life.” He shot her a look and she was suddenly aware that she was in her bed, half-clothed and rumpled.

She tugged up the covers, but that didn’t make her feel any less vulnerable so she flipped them aside, wrapping herself instead in her most businesslike manner as she crossed to her closet. “I only meant that I have a very busy day.”

His voice followed her into the closet though he, thankfully, did not. “Is that your way of telling me to get the hell out?”

“Of course not, but I’m sure you have places to be,” she called as she quickly stripped out of her slept-in clothes and pulled on a pair of crisp slacks and a bulky sweater.

When she emerged from the closet he was leaning against his chair—no, not his chair. Her chair. Nothing in her apartment belonged to him.

“The beauty of my life,” he said, “is that I get to be wherever I want to be whenever I want to be there. So no, I don’t have places to be. I can spend all day teaching you how to relax.”

“Well, I can’t. I have a date.”

She didn’t know why she told him that, but as soon as she said it she felt calmer, like she was back on even footing with him.

Prometheus’s eyebrows flew up, calculation rolled across his face and his expression sharpened. “Since when do you date?”

“Since now.”

“I’m serious, Karma. When exactly did this guy show up for the first time?”

“Yesterday, not that it’s any of your business.”

“A little after three o’clock? What does he look like?”

“Tall, dark and handsome,” she snapped. Then dread added to the already unstable mix in her stomach. “Oh God, what did you do? Summon a demon to ask me out?”

“No, of course not.” But he wouldn’t meet her eyes even as he waved a hand to brush away her concerns. “Never mind. It’s probably nothing. Just do me a favor and don’t make any deals with him, okay?”

“What? I can date other men but I can only negotiate with you?”

He smiled, a quick, merciless, predatory smile. He stalked toward her and she held her ground, refusing to retreat. He loomed over her, brushed a thumb over her lower lip and her breathing quickened. “Sweetheart, you go on your date. Have a good time. But we both know you’ll only be thinking of me.”

She expected a quick, forceful, claiming of a kiss. She was braced for it, ready to defend herself against his domination, but she was completely unprepared for the soft, sweet brush of his mouth over hers. The gentle, coaxing invitation of his lips. She felt her knees loosen and just when she was certain he would press his advantage, overpowering her, branding her, he pulled away.

And winked. “Just something to think about on your date.” He pressed a finger to her lips like he was marking his place and then he was gone.

Leaving her with a lot to think about and defective knees.

Chapter Nineteen Facebook Frenzy

The bell had been ringing nonstop all afternoon, so when it jangled again, Prometheus didn’t even glance up from the horde of teenage girls crowded around the register. Word had apparently gotten around at the speed of Facebook that Micah Hot-Jock had only asked Carly Theater-Geek to the prom and elevated her to such social status that she was named Prom Queen after Carly Theater-Geek had purchased an irresistibility charm at the Prometheus Unbound Bookshop and Spell Emporium.

He hadn’t even been sure he wanted to open the shop today, but when he saw the crowd of squealing girls waiting outside like he was auctioning off Taylor Lautner’s abs, he’d realized commerce therapy was exactly the cure for his current baseless irritation.

Now, three hours later, with his stock of irresistibility charms sold out and the more expensive true love charms going fast, his irritation was no longer baseless. He was losing patience with the seemingly endless supply of teenage girls looking for the summer fling that would define their very existences—especially because so few of them paid any attention to his warnings about side effects and reading the instructions carefully. He’d had to flat out refuse to sell to one girl who’d proclaimed she was going to wear her irresistibility charm night and day until Aidan Something-or-other noticed her and refused to listen when Prometheus explained that irresistibility charms could easily turn into obsession and stalker-bait charms if they were worn too often. The brat would have deserved what she got, but damn Karma had him thinking about what would happen after the charm left his store—as if any of that was his fault. He’d had to give the brat a discount on an allure potion just to get her to stop screeching threats about what her father would do to his business license if he didn’t sell to her. No one screeched at him before he developed a conscience. Except Karma. Life was easier when you let everyone dig their own grave, but these were kids. Obnoxious kids with too many hormones, but just kids.

The latest cluster—why did they always travel in packs?—finally gathered up their purchases and giggled and squealed their way out of the shop, leaving behind a heavenly silence. Prometheus surveyed the shop. It looked like a tornado had hit it, but his mortgage for the next two months was bulging in the register so he couldn’t complain. There were only two customers left—a mousy girl clutching a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice as she surveyed what remained of the romance charms, and a woman with curly brown hair and a designer handbag, who turned and beamed at him.

“Hi, Prometheus!”

“Brittany. Did Karma send you?”

The Karmic receptionist shook her head, curls bouncing. “She doesn’t know I’m here, but I had to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

Brittany sobered. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Karma is seeing another man.”

“Yeah, she told me.”

“She did? Like in a make-you-jealous way? Or a warn-you-off way? Or an if-I-tell-you-about-my-date-I- can-pretend-we’re-just-buddies-and-I-don’t-really-want-to-jump-your bones-even-though-I-totally-do way?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say probably the second one.” But something still didn’t sit right with him about the timing. For some guy to pursue Karma immediately after Deuma had said she was worth tempting… “Brittany, did you see the guy? What’s he like?”

“Oh! I am full of reconnaissance about the enemy! He’s plastic.”

“Plastic. You mean she was lying and she doesn’t really have a date?”

“No, no, he’s a real date. But he looks stiff. Like a mannequin. Attractive though. If you like that sort of thing.”

Prometheus nodded. He still didn’t like the way his gut clenched at the thought of her out with another guy, but at least he knew it wasn’t Deuma or one of her minions in disguise. No one would ever call a maenad plastic. They were all heat—they’d melt a mannequin in seconds flat.

“Don’t worry,” Brittany soothed. “I don’t think Karma really likes him. She’s only using him to perpetuate her denial about her feelings for you.”

Prometheus frowned down at the perky little pixie he’d accidentally had a hand in kidnapping. “Brittany, why are you on my side? Shouldn’t you be the first one in line telling Karma to stay the hell away from me?”

Brittany cocked her head, visibly confused by the question, and a hesitant voice interrupted.