The Darkest Lie (Page 10)

The Darkest Lie (Lords of the Underworld #6)(10)
Author: Gena Showalter

Not to mention, Aeron, until recently the keeper of Wrath, was still recovering from his interlude with death. For the first time in centuries, his mind was his own, his demon no longer a part of him. As expected, he hadn’t yet acclimated to the change.

Gideon wasn’t envious as some of the warriors were. He actually liked his other, darker half. Together, they were more powerful. Together, they were stronger, smarter, and no one but Scarlet could lie to him. Okay, fine. A few others could, but only when he let his emotions get the better of him. Which wasn’t often.

But speaking of being unable to tell truth from lies…I’ve been lying to you all along. We were never married, Scarlet had said.

Damn her and her seductive wiles. Were they or weren’t they? He had those flashes of her, yes, as if he had taken her to bed before. As if he had savored every inch of her and had already done all the things he now wanted to do. But those could very well be urges he’d had, mere fantasies, rather than reality.

Gideon sighed and strode to the bed where Scarlet had lain. He lifted the sheets and pressed the still-warm cotton to his cheek, the scent of midnight orchids wafting to his nose. Had he experienced this warmth skin-to-skin? Did he know that scent?

Scowling, he dropped the sheet as his c**k wept a little more. Get out of here before you forget your good intentions and storm into that bathroom.

His demon liked the thought of storming. Don’t enter the bathroom. Don’t enter the bathroom right now!

Seriously. Shut it. Even though Gideon had told Scarlet in his roundabout, deceitful way that he wouldn’t be fetching her any food, which he’d meant at the time, he left and locked the room, rode the elevator downstairs, wrote out what food he wanted, then handed the receptionist the note.

Lies prowled angrily through his head the entire time, hating the distance from Scarlet. Completely surreal.

The receptionist smiled and began typing. “Give us an hour, Mr. Lord.” He almost corrected her and said Pattinson. Anything to connect him to Scarlet. Instead he nodded and returned to the room. Scarlet was hungry. Therefore he would feed her. Wife or not. Because bottom line, he still had questions for her and she still had answers.

How he proceeded after this, as caveman or seducer, would be up to her.

CHAPTER THREE

HAD SHE EVER felt this fantastically clean? Scarlet marveled as she brushed her hair.

Gods, this was nice. Not a speck of dirt marred her. She now smelled of the same apples-and-vanilla fragrance that coated the air, along with the usual floral scent that coated her skin. Courtesy of her father? She’d always wondered.Her sore muscles felt revived, her spirits restored. Well, kind of. Why was she still here? Why wasn’t she running, as she’d promised Gideon she would?

Nightmares didn’t reply, the water having lulled the demon into a peaceful sleep.

Didn’t matter. She already knew the answer. Gideon still intrigued her.

How many times do you need to be told? You can’t let yourself develop feelings for him again.

Easy to think. Hard to actually prevent. Gideon had seen to everything. He’d placed a toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush on the sink. Oh, yeah. And a freaking blue bow for her hair. Clean clothes had rested on the toilet lid, though they weren’t what she would have chosen for herself. He’d picked a flowing, barely there blue dress rather than pants and a T-shirt. High heels rather than boots. He hadn’t given her a bra. Just blue panties.

Clearly, he had a fascination with blue. Why?

She should know, and hated that she didn’t. Was this a recent development?

Wasn’t like it mattered, she told herself next. His thoughts and reasoning weren’t her concern.

“I’m so happy waiting for you,” he called through the door.

The sound of that rumbling voice caused goose bumps to break out over her entire body. She imagined him pacing back and forth in front of the door, and she wanted to grin. Patience had never been his thing. She’d always liked that, mostly because he’d been so eager to be with her.

He used to rush to her cell after every mission, kiss her face, hands roving, desperate to relearn her curves.

“I missed you so much,” he’d said. Every damn time.

“Don’t leave me again.” Always her reply.

“I’d stay in this cell with you if I could.” A fleeting, sad smile, offered the very last time they’d had this exchange. “Maybe one day I will.”

“No.” She hadn’t wanted that for him, no matter how much she craved being with him. “Just…make me forget you were ever gone.”

And he had. Oh, had he.

If he could have removed the collar that had been permanently anchored around her neck, he’d always said, he would have done so and run away with her. But he hadn’t possessed the ability. Only a few of Zeus’s chosen had. So the golden collar had remained, seemingly glued to her skin and keeping her weakened, her demon’s powers muted.

Besides, only a select group of immortals were able to flash—to travel from one location to another with only a thought—in and out of Tartarus, and Gideon hadn’t been one of them. He would have had to sneak her through the entire realm, past the guards and to the gate. One, on its own, would have been difficult; together, they were impossible, even without the collar. But he’d still wanted to try.

With the thought, she felt herself softening. Damn it! Fight it. You can’t survive another heartbreak, and that’s all he has to offer. Heartbreak.

She dropped the brush on the sink and as it clattered ominously, tugged the dress over her head. The soft material stroked her skin, and she moaned. She’d never dressed herself this way, but maybe she should have. So decadent… The panties were equally soft, which elicited another moan. The heels, she left alone, donning her old boots instead. Better to beat a heartless man into submission with.

Finished, she turned, shoulders squaring, determination rising. One last encounter with Gideon, and then she was ditching him. But that was it, the end. She’d finally have closure. For surely that’s what she needed, what she lacked. Once she had it, she would return to the life she’d begun building for herself. A life as a human mercenary. Or rather, a jack of all wicked trades.

Do it. Get it over with.

“Are you kidding me with this?” she said as she stomped from the bathroom and held out the bow. A cloud of sweetly scented steam followed her.

Immediately his electric gaze raked her, lingering on his once-favorite places. Something dark entered his eyes, and he gulped. “What?” The word was a croak. “I thought it was ugly.” Meaning he thought it was pretty.