Jack, Nick and Marcus: three illegitimate sons of the devil. They were the
baddest of the bad boys, each of whom had managed to make love, raise hell, and
milk life in a manner worthy of their heritage. Until the day Daddy dearest needs
to name his heir apparent. So who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
MARCUS
“Looking for something?” The lazy heat of his voice twined
around Celeste Abbot like a cat or a lover, probably a bit of both.
“I
should have known.” She turned the flashlight toward the sound of the voice,
almost expecting to find it empty. The man was a shadow. “How long have
you been here?”
“Just long enough to secure the journal.” Marcus Diablo smiled,
his green eyes glittering in the light.
“So why wait for me?” She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear
him say it. Or deny it.
“I need your help.”
“You mean my father’s help.”
He shrugged, his smile potent. “It’s all the same, isn’t
it?”
There was an insult in there, she was certain of it, but somehow he had a way
of sugar coating the knife. But at least he was being honest with her. Unlike
the last time. “Let me have the journal.” She held out her hand, her
gaze locking with his.
“I hardly think that’s likely. After all, the last time we were
together, you didn’t exactly wait around for me.”
The last time they were together was a moment she tried very hard not to dwell
on. “What was I supposed to do? Hand the Degas over to you on a silver platter?
You seduced me in the hopes that I’d tell you where it was.”
“I seduced you because I wanted to.” Somehow they’d shifted
positions, standing only inches apart. “The Degas was a bonus. Besides,
seduction is a two way street.”
“A lane and a boulevard, maybe. They’re hardly the same thing.”
They were breathing in tandem now. She could see the muscles in his chest bunch
with each inhalation.
“But a perfect fit, no?” His teeth were white in the shadows.
She shook her head, fighting for clarity. He was doing it again. Seducing her.
And she’d sworn never to let that happen again. Once had been enough.
Okay maybe that part was a lie. But wonderful things could still be dangerous.
“I want the journal. It’s my father’s life work to find the
Devil’s Delight. You know that. This isn’t the same as a painting
or a statue.”
“It’s his heart’s desire. Yes, I know.” His frown held
a hint of disapproval. “Unfortunately, I have a client who desires it as
well.”
“And your client trumps my father?” She inched forward, still holding
his gaze.
“In this case,” his expression changed, his face hardening like
one of the marbles he so often procured, “yes. My client trumps everyone.”
“I don’t think so.” With lightening speed honed from years
of practice, she grabbed the journal and pivoted to run, her emotions tumbling
between regret and elation. To her credit, she made it as far as the sacristy
door.
“Going somewhere?” His body pinned hers to the wall, every hard
muscle pressing into her flesh with the searing precision of a carved relief,
two halves that were ordained to fit together.
“Let me go.” She started to struggle, then stopped, the motion
causing far more damage to her senses than simply holding still.
“Why?” His smile was crooked. “This is much more fun.”
He dipped his head, his lips brushing against hers. It was meant as a tease, but
something in his touch ignited a fire inside her, and without thinking she responded,
letting passion carry her away, his remembered smell and taste combining into
a potent aphrodisiac.
There’d never been anything wrong with his kisses, each thrust and stroke
calculated to bring pleasure.
Calculated.
The
word rang through her head. Gathering her wits, she pushed back, but she was too
late. He’d already retrieved the journal. “You son of a bitch.”
She swung her hand, intent on knocking the smirk from his face, but he caught
her wrist, still smiling.
“Come on, Celeste,” he said, holding her firmly now, “no
name calling. It isn’t ladylike.”
“Well, I’m not a lady,” she responded, immediately regretting
her words when she saw the glint in his eye.
“Believe me,” he leaned closer, his breath warm on her cheek, “I’m
more than aware of that fact.”
