Page 45 of Married to the Devil

Stoneheart: You’re being a coward.

In more ways than one.

Me: She’s scary. I’m not a big bad gargoyle.

Stoneheart: You think I’m big?

I shake my head and don’t respond, but I can’t help the smile on my face at another diabolical facet of the gargoyle, a hidden playfulness. My smile fades as I realize I hadn’t mentioned Ariel’s advice to make an heir.

He’s considered it.I explain away. That’s a better option than that I don’t want him to consider it.

The image of Stella round with Stoneheart’s child isn’t objectionable on principle, but it does represent that I’d be losing her permanently, which is ridiculous because I’ve already lost her.

She’d make a wonderful mother.

Her chaos and willingness to go to hell and back for the people she cares about whether it be to protect them or toavenge them attests how protective and nurturing she’d be if she ever chooses that path.

The pain in my chest is only from the jealousy that it wouldn’t involve me.

A clatterat the balcony doors of the library has me jolting to attention, thinking I’m going to have to perform my role as a bodyguard before I see the familiar figure through the glass.

I shush Stoneheart as soon as he enters, tilting my head to the sleeping Stella. The chill night air slips over my skin before he closes the door. It contrasts with the warmth from fireplace to the side of the sitting area.

Stoneheart frowns but whispers. “How long has she been out?”

“She missed dinner,” I say back softly. “I don’t think she likes to hang out in the bedroom.”

Stoneheart’s brows raise as he glances around the at the library ambiance. “The bedroom is rather…lacking. I figured she may want a say in picking the décor.”

But her workshop he meticulously designed. My curiosity itches, begging for me to dig. I want to learn more about this gargoyle, but the mystery would just be a trap. Already the dark cozy library screams with intimacy.

It hadn’t been strange to be in here while Silas worked. We’d discussed the possible fae involvement with the missing people in hushed voices before he’d departed for the night.

But now, the light from the fireplace caresses each sharp edge and odd curve Stoneheart’s face and kindles something uncomfortable in my chest.

I shrug away my curiosity and stand, adjusting my suit. “Whatever she was working on seems to have taken a lot of energy. I’ll come back in the morning.”

“Wouldn’t you rather stay?” The gargoyle moves to a cabinet. The clink of glass is the only sound other than his words. He pulls out a bottle of amber liquid before filling one glass.

He lifts the bottle toward me in a silent offer of a drink. A warming drink to go with the heat curling in my stomach even as nerves threaten to freeze me where I am. Stay longer and offer more time for this gargoyle to spin a web of strategy and seduction around me?

I shake my head as I respond to his question. “That’s not a good idea.”

Watching Stella sleep should have been soothing, but it left me with time to contemplate just how unwise it would be to accept their offer.

“You must dislike me a great deal,” Stoneheart says on a hum as he puts the bottle away.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m sure my lovely wife has informed you of your options. The world can see the feelings you have for her, and I know you’re attracted enough to me… I can only assume your reticence is from dislike.” Stoneheart rounds the couch that Stella sleeps on. His graceful movement and the flickering shadows are as enthralling as his words.

“Are you used to the people you barely flirt with dropping to their knees for you?” I ask, even though I have no intention of playing this game with him. His arrogance galls me.

Stoneheart shrugs. “You want her. You respond to me. The arrangement could be very fulfilling for all parties involved.”

“Until I leave.”

“I’m not putting an end date on anything.” Stoneheart swirls the drink in his glass as if this was merely as simple as settling what to have for dinner.

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