how much of a monster he was, wouldn’t want to wear that sexy skin? Women probably threw themselves at him on a daily basis, begging for the chance to touch and taste all that rugged, mouthwatering perfection.
She was truly playing her role as the awful bitch to a T, but it couldn’t be helped. After all, it was easier to be angry than hurt, and God, did it hurt. Just looking at him was a kind of physical torment. Just being near him. Breathing him in.
Noah had been the first boy who had ever made her feel like a sexy, desirable female. Who had blown her mind with pleasure that was so intense, it’d felt like she was dying … but in a good way. And no one had ever quite managed it since. It was like the bastard had marked her, every other man she’d known paling in comparison.
Still, considering the cards she’d been dealt, it was, in a way, good that things had turned out the way they did. Thanks to a certain pain-in-the-ass prophecy, nothing could have come of her crush on Noah Winston. But that didn’t mean that the way he’d ended things hadn’t stung. Having a guy tell you it was a mistake to touch you was never a good thing. As far as set downs went, it sucked the big one.
And yet, despite all of that, she knew she couldn’t refuse to help him. At least, not completely. Her goddamn guilty conscience wouldn’t let her, no matter how badly she wanted to.
“Fine. I’ll track down Damon for you,” she grumbled, pulling her phone out of her back pocket, so that she could enter Noah’s number. She knew Jessie was going to have a lot to say to her, but that didn’t mean she wanted Noah Winston around to hear it. Better to clear out to her own cabin, and come back to see Jessie later, before she left. “You got a cell number where I can reach you?”
His dark brows drew together in a straight line over those sharp blue eyes. “Reach me?”
She tried not to sound huffy. “Finding Damon isn’t going to be easy. He’s trying to avoid his ex, who has it out for him big-time, which means he’s gone silent. No phones. No pagers. I’ve got to hit the road to look for him. It might take a few days, but once I’ve found him, I’ll call you.”
He worked his jaw, something grim and angry darkening his expression. “That’s not how this is going to work.”
Willow lifted one brow in a slow arch and cocked her hip. “Did I miss something? I thought you wanted my help.”
“I do. But you’re not going after the demon on your own.”
“You want that spell translated?” she snapped, pointing her finger at the papers in Jessie’s hand. “Or not?”
“Yeah, I want it. But we get it together.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed to hot, glittering slits. “The Death-Walkers aren’t idiots. If they catch wind of what you’re doing, they’ll come after you like a force from hell. Literally. I intend to be there to make sure you don’t get hurt. And I want to hear the translation straight from the demon’s lips.”
“No,” she breathed out, shaking her head. Hell, no.
“If you want your answers about Sienna, this is the only way.”
“I’ll get my own answers,” she snarled. “You’ve got to be out of your friggin’ skull if you think I’m just going to tag along with you for the ride!”
“The bastard who has her wants me, Will. That means you need me.”
“Maybe, but you need me, too,” she shot back, her temper getting the better of her. She never had been able to suffer arrogant men. And Noah Winston was as cocky and arrogant as they came. “You need me a lot. Remember? Damon might be the only shot you have at getting those pages translated!”
“That’s right. So we work together.”
Her stomach damn near bottomed out. What the hell had just happened? Closing her eyes, she stumbled back a few steps, until she came up against a wall. “Jesus, Noah. That’s a bad, bad idea,” she whispered, deciding she was going to have to add tricky to his list of character faults.
“I’m no happier about it than you are,” he said in a low voice, “but I don’t see that we have a lot of choice here. Unless you’re willing to tell me where I can find this demon of yours on my own?”
Huh. At least he knew better than to gloat. But she was still pissed as she opened her eyes to glare at him. “I can’t tell you something I don’t know. And he’d kill you before agreeing to help you.”
He gave a sarcastic snort. “Sounds like a great guy.”
Her smile was meaner for the fact she knew she was going to have to give in. The bastard was going to win, she was going to be stuck working with him, and God only knew what other horrors awaited.
CHAPTER FOUR
INSANITY MUST BE contagious. Considering the circumstances, that’s certainly what it felt like. Noah was trapped in his truck with Willow, surrounded by that mouthwatering scent, and the goddamn road seemed to stretch on forever, punishing him for the sexual thoughts that kept slinking their way into his brain.
Ever since his family had taken off in the dead of night twelve years ago and driven from Sacred to San Francisco, Noah had hated road trips. They made him irritable and tense. He’d been on more than he could count since joining the Watchmen, but he couldn’t recall ever feeling this restless while cruising down the open highway. He couldn’t even keep his damn eyes on the road, constantly stealing sideways glances at the woman sitting beside him.
She’d changed her clothes before they’d headed out, trading the halter top and shorts for a T-shirt and jeans. He’d hoped the change might be easier on his system, but no such luck. The outfit might have covered more skin, but the way it clung to her curves was just as sinful.
He should have known it was going to be like this. That he’d lose his friggin’ mind the instant he set eyes on her again. If he’d had any brains at all, he’d have holed himself up in some cheap hotel room with an even cheaper woman for a few days and screwed his brains out before setting foot in Sacred. Then he wouldn’t have had any left to fry. As it was, all he could hear was the slow sizzle of his thought processes as they smoldered and burned, surprised he didn’t have smoke coming out his ears.
Scrubbing a hand down his face while the other had a death grip on the steering wheel, he made a desperate attempt at conversation. “You gonna tell me why your aunt was wearing that rabbit on her head?”
Maybe she needed the distraction as much as he did, because instead of telling him to shut up, she gave a throaty laugh, the rich sound doing something funny to his insides. “You should have seen the look on your face when she opened the door wearing Rufus.”
“Rufus?”
“He was her pet, until he keeled over from old age. That was a few years ago.”
“Okay.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to wrap his mind around what she’d said. “So then Jessie wears him out of affection? To keep him … close to her?”
She rolled her head over the back of the seat to look at him, the side part in her hair giving her an Old Hollywood look, with those glossy curls falling over the side of her face. It was sexy as hell, making a man want to stroke those soft locks back, so that he could touch his mouth to the
