Dancing With the Devil (The Devil #2) Read Free Page B

gestured at him.  “You’re the devil.  Satan.  The prince of darkness.”
     
    “ Judge not lest ye be judged ,” he quoted, giving her a pensive stare.
     
    Harleen gritted her teeth in order to bite back her reply, but his fingers were grazing her cheek, making it somewhat difficult to concentrate.  He had never touched her like that before. 
     
    “You looked absolutely stunning today,” he continued, his voice coming out huskier.  Darn those goose bumps.  He leaned forward, and she flinched, not quite sure what he was going to do.  This caught him off-guard, stopping him from continuing.  She opened one of her eyes, only to find him staring at her.  He looked… confused.  “You know, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”  Harleen looked at him - really, genuinely looked at him - trying to read his dark eyes.  “You can trust me.”
     
    No I can’t .  She wanted to say it, but she wouldn’t even trust her voice.
     
    “But I promise you the desire will come… and when it does, I’ll be here.”  His lips brushed Harleen’s cheek and she felt herself recoil.  He pulled away, thinking that he pushed her too far.
     
    She didn’t know how long she laid there, staring up at the ceiling.  Harleen could feel Andrew breathing evenly behind her.  He was asleep.  She wished she could be as calm as he was, but her heart wouldn’t let her rest.  She didn’t recoil because she didn’t want him to kiss her; she recoiled because she wanted nothing more than for him to place his lips on hers.  And that thought scared her beyond reason.
     
    And it just made her hate herself even more.                

Chapter 3
     
    The next morning, Harleen awoke the same way as she had the previous morning, except this time, she wasn’t as blissfully ignorant as she had been.  She stared up at the ceiling, knowing she was alone once more.  Her body was still clothed in her wedding dress, and she knew that Andrew hadn’t touched her while she was asleep.  Despite the fact that he was quite literally Satan, she trusted him to an extent.  For whatever reason, she was calm, as though she couldn’t muster up anger and frustration, but that might have been because she didn’t know whether to direct it at Andrew or her uncle.
     
    She wondered if Edgar knew she was in Hell now, if he even cared that he would probably never see her again until he died, because Lord knew that he would have no other place to go but to Hell for selling his niece’s soul for money.  For money.  No matter how she tried to think about it, her entire body was completely numb, frozen, as she laid there and looked at nothing.
     
    It was then that she realized that there was something around her, something cool and circular.  Picking up her hand, Harleen tilted her chin down so she could get a look at whatever it was that occupied her finger.  Upon looking at it, she felt her breath slip out from under her.  She couldn’t believe it.  It had to be a wedding ring, sitting on her left ring finger.  It wasn’t that big, but she had never cared about the size, carats, or anything about jewelry.  She didn’t own much jewelry, but she couldn’t help but be captivated by it.  Harleen would never admit it, but she was touched that Andrew thought to give one to her.
     
    It suddenly hit home that she was married.  Married!  She was barely eighteen years old and she was married.  Harleen never thought she would be one of those girls on some random MTV reality show that got married right out of high school and divorced three months later.  Then again, divorce was probably out of the question.
     
    At that moment, the door opened and there stood a man Harleen recognized from before, at the wedding.  Yes, he was one of the men that stood next to Andrew at the altar.  Who was he, exactly?  A man, maybe in his thirties, eyed Harleen with wariness.  He had brown hair combed to the