The Taking (Seven Deadly Sins #3)(49)
Author: Erin McCarthy

He paused in the act of flicking the lock over. Then he turned around, that sensual smile he had perfected so well on his face as he moved toward her. “Regan Henry, why would we need condoms? Tell me.”

She knew what he wanted her to say. His words about her black-and-white world popped into her head. Did she want to always play it safe, with a life that coordinated perfectly, everything interchangeable? Or did she want to risk adding something that could throw life off balance, add a splash of color that didn’t fit into her decor?

“So that you can f**k me,” she said.

That was the splash of red, of purple, of citrine, in her neutral palette.

His blue eyes lightened. “That can definitely be arranged.”

Felix watched Regan perch on the end of his bed, looking a little uncomfortable as he packed an overnight bag. His small apartment was cramped and cluttered, but he didn’t think that was what was bothering her. It was both what she had said to him downstairs and the fact that she had discovered his odd little habit of shoving money in random places around his apartment. He’d seen her pull a wad of cash out from where it had been sticking out from the bottom of the mattress, then hastily shove it back.

He didn’t feel compelled to explain it to her. He had already revealed way too much with Regan. He cared about her safety, about her. Despite everything he had learned over the years, she had somehow managed to find a way into the heart he had thought was jaded beyond caring.It was disconcerting. And it made him angry.

So his life had sucked before she had entered it.

At least it had been even. Calm.

Boring.

Empty.

Damn it. Felix yanked open his dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers and clean socks. He shoved them into the bag.

“Do you rent this apartment and the store?” she asked, her legs crossed in her white cotton skirt, perfectly manicured toes swinging up and down.

“No. I own them.”

“Wow. That’s impressive. We all know it’s not cheap to have a property in the Quarter.”

“I’m not poor,” he said, peeling two twenties off the stack of bills sitting on his dresser and cramming them into his pocket.

“I can see that,” she said. “Since you have money all over your apartment. You probably have a thousand dollars in the ashtray alone.”

“I don’t smoke, so why waste the storage space?” He was being an ass**le, he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. It wasn’t fair that he would feel this way about her. It wasn’t fair that of all the women he had encountered in his long lifetime she had to be the one to act like she actually gave a rat’s ass about him.

Why couldn’t it be just any woman? No, it had to be Alcroft’s ex-wife. The woman living in Camille’s house. It wasn’t fair and he was angry that it wasn’t and angry that he cared that it wasn’t.

“It just seems that a bank might be a better option. Especially if you have a guest over who ashes your savings into oblivion.”

“I don’t have guests.” A T-shirt and a fresh pair of jeans went into the bag. He walked the short distance to his bathroom and rooted around for his toothbrush and toothpaste. Screw the razor. He’d go scruffy.

When he came back, Regan was glaring at him. “What exactly are we doing here?”

“What do you mean?” he said, even as he knew exactly what she meant.

“You’re packing to stay with me overnight, probably more than one night, and yet you’re acting like you’re irritated to even be in my presence. This isn’t going to work. I don’t have to put up with this.”

She stood up, her shiny black purse clanking against her leg, as she readied to brush past him indignantly.

Felix sighed. “Regan, don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m not irritated to be around you, I just…”

“You just what?”

Maybe he should just tell her the truth. Tell her who and what he was. Maybe that was the only way to save them both from pain. Just open his mouth and explain that he was over one hundred and fifty years old, enslaved to a demon in exchange for his worthless life. Let her know that she was possibly in danger from the ghost of Camille and that her ex-husband had sent her chocolates filled with a special little se**n surprise.

Then she would conclude he was insane, walk out, and they would never see each other again.

But he couldn’t do it.

Because Regan was vulnerable without him watching her back. She was involved in a world she knew nothing about, and Felix had no idea what her role was meant to be yet. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

And because he couldn’t deny himself her. He just couldn’t. It had been too long since he had felt the soft touch of a woman, since he had allowed himself to lie next to someone, to talk about himself. The loneliness was an ache he had managed to ignore until Regan had forced him to feel the bleed of the open wound being alone had sliced in his life.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he told her honestly.

“Do what?”

“This!” He pointed to her and to himself and back to her. “Have a relationship. I haven’t had one in a hundred years and I don’t know what the f**k I’m doing.”

She relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping. “A hundred years?” She smiled. “Wow, you’re older than I thought”

If she only knew.

It was clearly a teasing joke, but it struck a nerve with Felix. “I’m being serious, Regan.”

“Okay. Fine. I’m being serious too. So you’re uncomfortable. I am too. But being belligerent and aloof isn’t going to help us figure out how to deal with our feelings and each other.”

Rational and beautiful. If she told him she cooked, he was lost. Hell, he was already lost and he knew it.

“That’s true. I can’t argue with that”

“Let’s not argue at all:”

Argue was definitely not what he wanted to be doing. “I have a better idea of how to put my tongue to use.”

Her eyes darkened. “Show me.”

Avoiding difficult conversations with sex. He was good at that.

“Sit down.” He stepped forward so that she automatically moved back.

He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t touch her. He just stalked until she hit the edge of his bed and sat down, her shiny proper purse still hooked over her arm. Felix pushed up her white skirt, exposing her pale, firm thighs.

Regan gasped, but she didn’t stop him.