He turns his head and sears me with his gaze. “Aye, lass,” he says, his voice thick. “There is.”
If my body hadn’t just detonated with heat, I’d tell him to jump off a bridge, the arrogant prick.
Anger gives me the strength to sit upright. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but I don’t date gangsters. Gangster.”
Looking at my mouth, he moistens his lips. “Who said anything about dating?”
Holy guacamole. He’s not going to make this easy. My cheeks heating, I say primly, “I don’t sleep with them either, okay?”
His eyes, good god, how darkly they burn. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping, either, lass. Spend time with me, and you won’t be getting any sleep at all.”
It feels like my heart is up in my throat, which makes it hard to get the words out. “I don’t want to spend time with you.”
A muscle flexes in his jaw. He shakes his head, like he’s disappointed in me.
“I don’t!”
“You do. You’re fascinated by me. You just can’t wrap your head around why.”
So aggravated I want to scream, I say, “I’d be crazy to be fascinated by you.”
“Then you’re crazy.” He shrugs, as if he doesn’t care. “But you’re interesting, too.”
More whiplash. He thinks I’m interesting? “I stole from you.”
“I know. That’s what makes you interesting.” His tone goes from nonchalant to hungry. “That and that beautiful, smart fucking mouth.”
We stare at each other. Adrenaline crackles through my veins, hot, dark, and dangerous.
Like him.
It occurs to me that perhaps this was inevitable. I was brought up around dangerous men. I was raised by one. Some part of my brain must be wired to be attracted to Liam Black’s particular brand of bad.
It doesn’t help that he’s so damn handsome. It’s effortless to be revolted by a man whose face is as ugly as his soul, but when evil is dressed up in such a pretty package, it’s not quite as easy to resist.
Before he got his ass kicked out of heaven, the devil was the most beautiful angel of all.
He demands, “What are you thinking?”
“That you’re the devil.”
“I went from an ape to the devil? That’s quite a jump.”
I know from my limited experience with him that we could go around and around like this forever, so I cut to the chase. “Where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
That queasy feeling in my stomach tells me he isn’t talking about my apartment. Horrified, I gaze at him.
His voice lowers. “Whatever comes out of your mouth next, please don’t let it be a lie.”
The “please” stops me short. He doesn’t seem like a man who even knows the word, let alone allows himself to speak it.
“Okay. No lies. I’m on board with that. So here are some truths for you: I’m confused. I’m exhausted. I’m worried about my friends. I’ve had several drinks, and I don’t think my brain is working the way it should be. I don’t like you, but I can’t honestly say you disgust me, either, which I very much wish you did. I’m disappointed in myself about that.”
He’s watching me with such blistering intensity I have to take a breath to steady myself before I go on.
“What else? Um. I’m relieved you haven’t killed me yet—”
“I swear on my mother’s grave, I will never harm you.”
His voice is rough and urgent. His dark eyes shine like gems. There’s something raw and open in his expression, something that seems to plead with me to accept that he’s telling me the truth.
We gaze at each other in silence until I surprise myself by whispering, “Okay.”
He seems surprised, too. “You believe me?”
“Yes.”
After examining my face for a moment, he breathes, “Thank you.”
I don’t know why, but it’s obvious what I’ve said means a great deal to him.
“What about my friends?”
“They’re safe. You have my word.”
He gazes at me like the sun is shining out of my head, and he’s getting blinded by it. To be stared at with such unwavering intensity by a man so gorgeous, so powerful, and so completely masculine is disorienting.
It’s also undeniably thrilling.
Except I’m supposed to hate him. I do hate him.
I think.
“About this you-taking-me-home thing.”
“What about it?”
“If I tell you I don’t want to go home with you, does it void anything you’ve promised me up to this point?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to go home with you.”
He gazes at me in silence for a moment. Then he smiles.
“Will you stop doing that?” I say, exasperated by his cockiness.