Page 52 of Seduce Me in Shadow

“Very,” Chloe agrees. “Assuming your story is real, do you have any theories about which side the poor bastards fought for?”

“No. I’ve heard little about the other side, this Doomsday Brethren. My source swears they’re the good guys, but they’re fighting Mathias, who claims to be battling for equality. Still, he raped the woman until she was little more than a broken shell. But does his evil automatically make the Doomsday Brethren good? If I had to guess, I’d say the soldiers were Mathias’s. If he cares so little as to brutalize a woman, I doubt he’s above kidnapping a few well-trained soldiers and using them in his army.”

Chloe hesitates. “Do you think any of this magical war stuff is true? Maybe it’s a terrorized woman’s hallucinations?”

“That’s possible. But I’ve gathered enough evidence to give me pause. Call me if you hear any more.”

We ring off, and I jot down a few notes—which quickly grow frustrating. I have another story to crank out this week on the magical war, and I want it to be about Chloe’s information, slanted accurately, but I have so many questions.

How do these soldiers fit into the grand scheme of the war? Have they truly been used for magical purposes? How were they persuaded or forced to fight and give their lives for this cause? Perhaps I could run with the facts as they are and leave the rest to speculation, but the pieces of the puzzle don’t fit. I need to talk to my source again and see what else the witch might know.

I place a quick call to Aquarius. When my assistant doesn’t answer, I leave a voicemail, apologizing for the interruption of her holiday and asking for a ring back if her guest will talk again.

A few minutes later, I place the phone back in the cradle, and I feel a presence in the doorway.

Caden.

“Did you need something?” I steel myself and force a businesslike tone. “I’m off to a busy start, so spit it out.”

He steps in and shuts the door behind him, planting his fists on my desk and leaning closer. “Sydney, I’m?—”

“Stop.” I put up a hand, hating the way he already has my blood pumping and my heart aching. If I think too much about last night, I’ll bloody cry. “I have a question. Why did you come over last night? What made you leave your flat in the middle of the night and come all the way across town to mine?”

Caden looks startled by my question. “Impulse. I admit I was attracted to you from the first. I tried to keep things professional because we work together, my life is complicated now, and I can’t give you a tomorrow. But I came over last night because I couldn’t stay away a minute more. I tried talking myself out of it, but every moment I was away from you, I became more obsessed with touching you.”

Was that the influence of the magical diary?

“You didn’t come to seduce me for the name of my magical source?”

“Of course not, but I would love it you made me a full partner in this story.”

“Did you think being my partner in the bedroom would help you get there faster?”

“Damn it! I dreamed of you, literally, in the precise lingerie you wore last night. I dreamed of tearing it off, of the sweet taste of your breasts, of your pussy clutching my cock, of the groansyou made when you came for me. How the bloody hell was I supposed to stay away from you after that?”

Oh, god. I sit back with a gulp. “Would you…um, say you felt compelled?”

“Yes. But I take responsibility for mucking up everything.” Caden leans closer, peering at me as if trying to unravel a puzzle. “Wait. Did you write about me in that bloody book Aquarius gave you?”

I want to crawl under the desk and stay for a decade. “Don’t be absurd. It’s a stupid old book. Forget I asked about last night. Let’s focus on work.”

His eyes narrow. “What made you open the door and let me in?”

“It’s no secret I wanted you. But as you said earlier, itch scratched. Moving on.”

“I said no such thing,” he growls.

He didn’t. He denied it, in fact. I need to stop taking my upset out on him and hope that he never discovers what I did in a foolish act of desperation. “Sorry.”

He responds with a curt nod.

That’s as much as I can expect, really, when I used a magical diary to coerce him. He came to my flat and shagged me because that was my wish, not because he felt anything real for me. “Forget I said anything. Work is piling up this morning, and I’m stressed.”

“Will I start another fight if I ask if I can do anything to help?”

“There’s nothing.” Because if he stays with me in this small office, I’m in grave danger of wrapping my arms around him and pleading for his affection.

Before he can say anything more, my phone rings. I’m utterly relieved when I see the caller ID.

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