Demon's Plaything Read Free

cases anyway, believed him and tried to ignore the rush of excitement and interest that his words sent coursing through her.
    “Well, uh, have a great evening, Mr.…?”
    “Demon,” he supplied as her voice trailed off. “Just Demon.”
    She wanted to laugh, she really did, but another look into his beautiful eyes had the chuckle dying in her throat. His undeniable attractiveness, the hot, magnetic pull she felt toward him made laughter impossible. It even made it hard for her to judge his garish tie and less than flattering tan suit. Seemed that beauty could cover a multitude of sins.
    Too bad he was here. Shayla had few hang-ups about her sexuality, and if she’d run into this god of a man anywhere else, she’d have had no qualms about getting to know him better. But, alas, his presence here probably meant he was into whatever Ian was into, and that awareness threw a bucket of cold water over her desire.
    “Good night,” she said.
    “See you around,” he responded.
    “Hope not,” she said without missing a beat, to which he laughed.
    As she walked away, she felt his gaze boring into her back, felt that prickling awareness of arousal spark again, so she sped up. Ian would just have to find her later. Confused as she was about what Ian wanted and as scared as she was about the consequences, she couldn’t afford to add lust to the mix, especially not for a man who was probably up to no good.
    She reminded herself of that as she drove home, but images of “Demon” and the memory of his alluring scent stayed plastered on her brain.
     
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    Two days later, Demon was still present in her thoughts, and he’d been the featured attraction in her fantasies. Memories of his amazing voice, his scent, his body, and thoughts of what she would have done to him had they met under different circumstances played in her mind. She hadn’t felt that powerful of an attraction to anyone in long time, maybe ever.
    It was a damn shame that she hadn’t run into him somewhere— anywhere —else. Not that it mattered, though; she would never see him again.
    Still, thoughts of the outrageously handsome, ridiculously named stranger were far preferable to other memories of the evening. Shayla still hadn’t quite processed it. She was no shrinking violet, couldn’t be to work in an ER, but there was something profoundly troubling about the event. People hurt each other; it was a fact of life. But the joy she’d seen on people’s faces as they’d watched… She shook her head to try to clear the memory.
    And then there was Ian. He’d been the picture-perfect brother and grandson, calling her just to chat, visiting Nana, asking about her health. It should have been comforting, but instead his behavior had her edgy, nervous, and a sneaking suspicion about what he wanted had been brewing over the days since the event. Ian still hadn’t explained, but it didn’t matter. He’d have to get out of whatever mess he was in by himself. She’d tell him so tonight. They were getting together for dinner, a chance to catch up away from grand-maternal oversight he said, so she’d get more information and set him straight.
    Today was her day off, so she’d made chicken parm. She usually made several batches so she’d have easily accessible meals after a shift, so she’d spent most of the day in the kitchen. Around six thirty, a knock at the door stated Ian had arrived. She rushed over quickly and opened the door, the late-model, higher-end sedan parked next to her car drawing her attention.
    “Hey. New car?” she asked as she reached up to hug him.
    “Hey. Just a little something I’m test driving, short stuff,” he responded with a smile.
    She laughed. “I told you, I’m of perfectly average height, Ian.”
    “Not next to me,” he said, pulling himself up to his full six three. “And besides, you tormented me for years about my height, so now payback is mine.”
    “It’s not my fault you didn’t hit