it hit me in the face and wrapped it around my head. “Nice trick,” I muttered, trying to stifle my envy.
Demon powers sure came in handy. Not that I wanted wings, or the ability to set my skin on fire, or heal wounds, or disperse a pack of bloodthirsty inferni-something creatures with a single word—okay, yes, fine, I did want all that. But hey, I could spontaneously mash up two sentences to create an epically embarrassing phrase in just the right situation, like that one time at the Target checkout when I struggled to pull my wallet out of my tote bag and my brain couldn’t decide between telling the cashier, “Hold on for a moment” and “Give me a minute,” so what I blurted out was, “Hold me for a minute,” so yeah, at least I had that going for me. Takes a special talent in the oral arts, that one.
Picking up the dress, I frowned. Checked the bed. Frowned some more. “Where,” I asked my devious demon, “is the bra?”
He didn’t even pause while shrugging into a new shirt, and the sight of his muscled torso in fluid motion temporarily stole my breath. “What bra?”
I cleared my throat. “This dress needs a bra. It’s almost completely see-through.” I demonstrated the level of transparency in the chest area by slipping my hand inside.
“I know.” He buttoned his shirt while regarding me with a glint in his eyes. “So?”
I breathed in and out through my nose, steadying myself. “Summon me one of my bras.” Realizing something, I added in a voice that was rapidly losing any steadiness I had managed, “And panties!”
The lace pattern of the dress did get denser below the hips, to the point the material wasn’t see-through anymore where it covered the butt and crotch area, but still.
“You seem to labor under the impression that you have any demands left to make.” He closed the distance between us with sinful grace and sensual menace, his fingers grabbing the knot in the towel wrapped around my body. “Let me disabuse you of that notion.”
He pulled just enough that the knot loosened just so, and I clasped the edges of the towel to hold it in place, my heart racing.
“Zaquiel is waiting. There is no time for your compulsive obstinacy. You either put this dress on yourself in the next minute, or I will put you in it.” His expression clearly said he preferred the latter.
It should have sounded like a threat. Really. Any woman with two brain cells left would have taken it as one. Apparently, I had less than that because for a second there, I considered resorting to the kind of defiance that would immediately get me option number two.
Glaring at him with what I hoped was haughtiness—and not the unbidden arousal I was trying to keep at bay—I gritted out, “Fine,” turned on my heels and stormed off into the bathroom.
The door closing behind me almost cut off his chuckle. Almost.
Chapter 9
The dress fit me like a glove. A super sexy, who-are-you-and-what-did-you-do-with-Zoe glove, and as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I was torn between glee that this outfit would torture the fuck out of Azazel, and awkward self-consciousness about demonstrating roughly ten times more sex appeal than in my usual jeans and tank top/T-shirt.
Well, I had no other choice but to flaunt it. Wearing this dress with anything less than self-assured awareness of my own sexuality would not just be a disservice to the outfit, but also—more importantly—would play into Azazel’s little scheme of trying to make me uncomfortable. And I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me embarrassed.
We’d see about other kinds of satisfaction.
When I walked back into the bedroom, it was with a sexy swing to my hips and my head held high. Let the games begin.
Azazel was leaning against the door frame to the balcony, his form outlined by the storm of fire and lightning outside. With the lights in the bedroom dimmed low, all I could see in that moment was his shadowy form, silhouetted against the spectacular light show behind him.
But his eyes flared when his gaze fell on me, the silver flash competing with the lightning in the sky.
I couldn’t help it—I preened.
Despite all his bluster from before, his obvious intentions to simply set me aside and not engage with me, he couldn’t ignore me now, could he? I’d vowed not to beg for scraps of his attention, but damn did it feel good when