The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(48)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Good? That’s all you have to say to me?" she asked.

"Yes."

Surprise caused her mouth to fall open. "Well, now that I’ve told you, I’d like to call my boss and let him know I’m okay."

Maddox shook his head. "I’m afraid that is not an option. No one can know you’re here. For your safety, and for ours."

"But – "

"It is not up for discussion. The answer is now and always no."

Her mouth worked open again, as if she meant to argue. But she merely said, "Fine."

From her tone, he knew it wasn’t. She probably planned to hunt up a phone the moment he turned his back. Women. For the first time, he understood what Paris meant when he uttered the word like a curse. He sighed. "I swear to you, Ashlyn, this is the best course of action for all involved."

Turning away from him, she patted her arms dry. Her actions were a little too slow, a little too measured, as if her mind were far away.

"What is wrong?"

"Lots of things. I need to call my boss, and I’m going to the moment I find a phone. You can’t stop me."

"That is – "

Now she cut him off. "And even you, an immortal, have to think I’m weird after what I just told you, so I don’t know why you’re denying it."

He scrubbed the moisture out of his hair and wrapped the cloth around his neck. "You are not weird. I think you are beautiful, smart, courageous and most important, delicious."

She anchored the towel around her torso, blocking his view. "Really?"

Insecurity that strong had to have been beaten into her. He scowled, determined to kill whoever had wielded the verbal fists. "Really." Hands on her shoulders, he spun her around. Their gazes collided. "If you knew half the things that happen here, you – " He pressed his lips together. Damn, but he should not have said that.

"You mean there’s more than stabbings and resurrections?" she asked dryly.

Much more.

"So what are we going to do now?" She splayed her arms wide.

Though he wished to spend the rest of the day with her, he knew that he could not. He still had duties, was still a warrior whose home needed to be defended, now more than ever. After ushering her into the bedroom, he dressed, gathered a shirt, boxers and a pair of sweatpants from the floor and tossed them at her. "Put these on."

She missed every single item and had to bend to pick them up. With every movement, the white towel rode up her thighs. His c**k hardened. Again. It should have been tired, but no. Not with Ashlyn. She excited him despite, well, everything.

"There are a few things I must do," he said, more to remind himself than in response to her question.

"And you’re taking me with you?" she asked, tightening her grip on the bundle.

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

No sense in lying, he supposed. She would find out soon enough. "I’m locking you up with Danika while I do some…chores. That way, you will have company and there will be someone to tend you and call for me if you become sick again."

First a look of panic shuttered over her face. Then anger. Her brows arched and the tip of her tongue traced the outside of her lips. "One, there’s no need to lock me up. I said I’d stay. And two, you’re telling me Danika is locked up? She’s a prisoner?" The last word emerged as a screech.

"Yes." Perversely, he hoped the affirmation would anger her further; he wanted to see that tongue again.

"But, Maddox, you told me I was the first woman you had – "

"I did not lock her up. Nor did I lie to you. Now, not another word. Please." If she asked him to release Danika, he would want to do it. He would want to go against the others and grant her request. "Get dressed, or I’ll drag you from the room naked."

Silently, she studied him. Silently, she begged him to… what? He couldn’t tell. He said nothing. He couldn’t. Time was not his friend.

"What is it going to be? Clothed or naked?"

She scowled at him, her first real show of temper, and offered him a view of her back. Motions stiff and jerky, she allowed the towel to fall to the floor. Elegantly sloped back… rounded ass… His mouth watered.

"I should fight you on this, but I’m not going to. Know why?" She didn’t give him time to answer. "Not because you ordered it but because I’d like the chance to check on Danika."

She quickly dressed, and he should have been happy those luscious curves were covered. No one else would be able to see her; no one else would have the chance to enjoy the view. But that also meant he wouldn’t see, and he wouldn’t enjoy.

"They’re too big," she said, facing him.

She was right. The clothes bagged on her, but Maddox thought she looked delectable. He knew what waited underneath that material. He knew what waited for his touch – and his alone. "They’re all I have. For now, they’ll have to do."

A thought arose. Torin had things delivered to a P.O. box all the time for Paris to pick up. Perhaps Maddox would have him order dresses like those he had seen on the television while watching one of those silly movies with Paris. Low cut. Maybe high heels, too, and some jewelry. And maybe the sexy – what did Paris call it? – lingerie Ashlyn had wished for.

"We’ll talk later," she said, stomping to his side. Not a question, he noticed, but a demand.

"Yes?" He tried not to smile. "We will talk."

"You’re going to answer all my questions. No evasions." She stared up at him, eyes narrowed.

Perhaps. "You had best behave while I’m gone. Remember how I told you it was dangerous to make me mad?"

"What, you’ll spank me if I’m a bad girl?"

The provocative comment surprised him. Gods, where had this little firecracker come from? He’d seen her scared, shocked, sick, aroused, but not feisty like this. Amazingly, the spirit did not erupt at her defiance. Did not compel him to lash out. He thought perhaps it… No. Impossible.

The spirit of Violence did not smile.

"You don’t want to know what I’ll do," he said when he found his voice, "so do not tempt me."

She rose on her tiptoes, her warm breath fanning his ear. The hard peaks of her ni**les abraded his chest. He waited, unable to breathe as he anticipated what she would do next. He might not know where the firecracker had come from, but he knew she excited him.

"Maybe I like tempting you," she whispered. She bit his earlobe. "Think about that while I’m locked away."

He would. Oh, yes. He would.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ashlyn stared at the splintered door that had just been slammed in her face by Maddox, trapping her inside another bedroom. Another prison. Oh! That man was infuriating. He’d tenderly, wildly pleasured her in a way that should have embarrassed her – had embarrassed her until that first wondrous lave of his hot tongue – and then he’d become a warrior again, hard and harsh and determined.