The Darkest Lie. Gena Showalter

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The Darkest Lie - Gena Showalter

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them tattooed around his own waist. Why had he done something so girly? That’s what all his friends had wanted to know after laughing their asses off at his expense. He’d told them he’d wanted to prove that nothing could lessen his appeal.

      The truth was he’d done it because he’d seen those words and flowers in his mind, over and over again. They’d plagued him, and he’d known, known they meant something, but not what they meant. Now he knew he’d seen them on this woman. Which meant whether they were married or not, they had spent time together.

       Why can’t I fucking remember it?

      I know, Lies replied, as if he’d asked the demon.

      Shut up. I like you better when you’re quiet.

      The sound of water hitting porcelain suddenly reverberated through the hotel room. Scarlet was probably naked now, he thought. Probably soaked in that water and moaning as it slid down her luscious body.

      He moaned, scrubbing a hand down his face and hoping to wipe away the naughty images flashing through his head. Didn’t help. He closed the rest of the distance, arm extending for the knob. Goodbye, testicles. We had a good run.

      Just as before, he caught himself in time. He growled, backed away and planted his feet more firmly in place. No, no, and no.

      At least he didn’t have to worry about her escaping. Not successfully. While she’d slept, he’d placed tiny sensors on all the doors and windows and wired them to his phone. He’d know the moment she tried to leave. And she would. Soon. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. Fighting was clearly part of her nature.

      So was annoying him.

      How was he supposed to handle a woman who picked her last name based on who she was currently lusting after? Which was fine when she was lusting after other females. Sexy, even. Something to be encouraged, too. But the males? Hells. No. Not if there was a chance they were hitched, and not until they had things settled between them.

      Still. He knew how he wanted to handle her. Skin-to-skin. Every part of him longed to step into that shower, lick her all over, tasting her. Then, oh, yes, then, he’d sink deep inside her, feel her tug his hair and scratch his back. Feel her legs wrap around him and hold on tight. Hear her gasp his name and beg him for more.

      Mini Me, his most beloved appendage, started weeping, and the twins begging, uncaring about potential loss.

      Not gonna happen, men. Not yet, at least. She’d resisted him more intensely than he’d expected. Not that he’d tried very hard. Hard. Ha. But maybe that was a good thing. As Strider had reminded him, Hunters were in Budapest and out for blood. Now that they could kill the Lords and pair the demons with people of their choosing, now that the Lords were close to victory, the Hunters were more determined and vicious than ever. If Gideon seduced Scarlet, he would forget about guarding her.

      He could have taken her to another city, he supposed, and seduced her there. That would have been safer. But, no. He couldn’t leave his friends like that. They needed him more than ever. Maddox was consumed with easing his pregnant wife; Lucien’s girlfriend was planning their wedding; Sabin’s wife was visiting her sister in the heavens, so the warlord was pretty much operating on a hairtrigger of emotion; and Reyes’s woman had enough shit to deal with. As the All-Seeing Eye, she could peer into heaven and hell, and the things she saw were often far worse than anything Scarlet could manufacture in her dream-world.

      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 cock 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?

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