"Why? You scared of the dark?” Taunting him probably wasn't a good idea, but the inner bitch just couldn't let the moment pass. And after all, wasn't he the reason the bitch was there in the first place? She might have been a rebel before she'd left Ripple Creek and headed to Kansas and Rosehall, but she'd been a sweet one. Or so Neva had declared. If she couldn't trust her twin to give an honest opinion, who could she trust?
"And shouldn't I be?” His gaze ran down the length of her, a slow, sensuous perusal that sent heat flaring across her skin and desire rushing though her veins. But when his gaze finally rose to hers again, the dark depths were touched with a bitterness that almost outshone the lust. “After all, I learned the hard way that devils mostly come at night, and the most dangerous of them all is the one who looks like an angel."
"I wasn't the one who went into our relationship lying all the way, Cade, so don't get all high and mighty with me."
His expression was contemptuous. “But you quickly learned to lie, didn't you?"
"If I did, it was because I had a damn good teacher.” She crossed her arms, refusing to back down, even though common sense was screaming to just give up and forget about it. “All those pretty words; all those promises made in the dark. All of them lies. But I guess you're right. I guess I did tell the biggest lie of all."
His anger lashed at her, as fierce as the gleam in his dark eyes. Yet that gleam wasn't bitterness now. It was simply desire. And it burned as savagely as it ever had, crashing through her like a storm, making her tremble deep inside.
God help her, she wanted him. Wanted him as fiercely as she had back when she was a stupid teenager doing nothing more than rebelling against the restrictions of her childhood. Obviously, some things never changed, no matter how much time and hurt had passed.
"And which of your many lies was the biggest one?” he asked.
That he didn't even remember the words she'd said just before he'd torn everything apart hurt more than she ever thought it would. But then, how stupid was she to even think he would remember? She'd always been nothing more than a means to an end.
"It doesn't really matter now, does it?” Had never mattered to him. She shrugged and turned away, suddenly tired of arguing. No matter how much she might have dreamed of letting all her frustration, all her anger, loose on him, now that the dream had become a reality, it didn't feel as cathartic as she'd thought it would.
All she was really doing was dragging up old hurts, old pain, and it simply wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it.
But she'd only gone three steps when his hand caught hers and spun her around.
"Don't ever walk away from me when we're in the middle of something,” he said harshly. “Not again."
"I didn't walk last time; I ran.” She pulled her hand from his, her fingers tingling from the contact and the warmth of his flesh still lingering against hers even though he no longer touched her. “And I'll do whatever I want. You are not my boss."
Or lover. Or friend. Or anything else important, she thought, spinning on her heel and walking around the back of the truck.
"That's where you're so very wrong,” he said. “Want me to prove it?"
"I don't want anything from you.” Her gaze met his over the back of the truck. “Nothing but a quick result so you can get out of my town."
"There are forces in place that are preventing that, despite how much either of us might wish otherwise."
"I don't care for excuses. Just get it done and get out."
"Savannah, stop."
His voice was so soft she barely heard it. And yet his words seemed to hang in the air, surrounded by an energy that whisked across her skin and burned into her mind, becoming a compulsion she had no choice but to obey. And even though she fought the order with every ounce of strength she had, her feet stopped and her hand stilled on the doorhandle.
She knew what it was. Knew that he was using the promise—which was a pledge of commitment made to the moon and enforced with magic—they'd made so long ago against her now. How that promise was viable after all the years between them she had no idea, and in truth, it didn't really matter. Fury burned through her, momentarily obliterating the desire. “Bastard."
He gave her a lopsided smile that tugged at her memories and snagged old hurts. God, how she'd loved that little boy smile...
"I never forced you into that promise, Vannah."
"Savannah,” she bit back. “And you're forcing it now, aren't you?"
"Yes."
He walked around the truck, each step such effortless grace that he could have been walking on air. Which was what made him a good IIS officer, she reminded herself fiercely. He could sneak up on people all too easily, and just as easily misinterpret what he'd heard.
But he wasn't sneaking now. He was boldly going where few men had dared go before, and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. Not right now, anyway.
But later, he would pay. Somehow, she'd make sure of it.
In the darkness his handsome features were shadowed, and his eyes were little more than obsidian stone, though the occasional spark of navy gleamed.