Page 24 of Deal With The Devil

A flush creeps across my cheeks. Because we both know each other rather intimately, I expect that he will look at me with surprise or possibly even happiness. But instead, he is looking at me with this cold, calculating glare.

Does he not remember that we spent a night together?

I start to open my mouth to ask him that question, but the security guard catches up with us, drawing a sleek black weapon out of his coat pocket.

Burn looks up at the security guard, and I see a flash of fury on his face. He pushes me roughly and moves to stand in front of me. And he raises an arm, pointing a finger at the security guard.

"Fuck off," he commands. "She’s with me."

My heart warms just a tiny bit. My stomach is still flip-flopping, as I feel unsettled. But Burn doesn’t ask me anything about what I am feeling at this moment.

Instead, he grabs the top of my arms just below the shoulders and marches me toward the front of the house and away from the sea of people at this party. I feel the weight of a thousand gazes on my small frame, but Burn is the one in charge right now. He’s made a decision, and I can only barely keep up with his long strides.

Burn continues our roughneck pace, pushing and pulling me in turns down the length of the back of the huge house.

We take a right turn into a less crowded garden; this one is a pretty ornamental affair, with pairs of people holding hands and whispering to each other as they wander through it. There is an elaborate set of sculpted hedges at the far end, and nearer to me is one of many broad, shallow pools with water features that gently ripple. There are roses everywhere, growing on trellises and in bushes. Burn pushes me forward and points toward the far edge of the garden.

I try to look at his face to get an idea of what he is feeling. I remember him being as open as a book and laughing a lot when we met before, but now he is closed off and his expression is set in a grimace.

I start to wonder, looking at his fancy tuxedo and the ease with which he wears it, who is this man? I only know him from our one meeting at the Raven’s Head Club. Now I am wondering what else I should know about him. I am starting to feel more than a little intimidated by his attitude toward me.

"Burn!" I begin. There is no plan for my words, exactly. But my words seem to cause him some kind of torment, because he curls his lips.

"Not here," he growls. He pushes me down a pebble lined path, as neatly manicured as everything I have seen tonight. When he clamps my arm and takes a sharp right into the hedge maze, I start to think that maybe he knows this garden a little too well.

I blame my panicky brain for the ideas it’s producing. Because it’s not as if Burn is one of the Morgan family or anything. Believe me, I would know if I had fucked one of the members of the ultra-elite.Yuck.

I shiver to myself and force my attention back to the present moment.

Burn surprises me by clamping his fingers around my arm and pulling me into the hedge maze. On the other side, there is a large pond with an explosion of multicolored tulips framing it. A gorgeous Grecian statue stands sentinel in the corner, flanked by two white marble benches. He calls me over to the statue, ignoring my struggle. Then he abruptly turns me loose, rounding on me with a snarl.

"Do you even know who I am?" He demands to know. His face is furious for some reason.

I swallow and step backward, feeling the brush of leaves from the hedge at my back. I look up, licking my lips. He has no right to look as attractive as he is, with the spots of vivid pink color in his cheeks and his haughty expression as he peers down at me. I draw my arms across my body, hugging myself and frown.

"I know your first name. Burn. I was under the impression that you didn’t think that knowing each other’s names was necessary. Actually, I think you said that it wasn’t very sexy when I asked you for your last name."

"Then why in the hell are you here, then?"

He prowls around me, first one way, then the other. I swallow and try to figure out just what is going on.

"I’m here to confront Remy Morgan. He owes my bookstore a lot of money. Plus, I am pretty sure he’s our landlord, so he’s the person to talk to about forgoing some of these crippling mortgage payments, too. I came to talk to him and try to get him to cough up what he owes us. It’s not like he’ll even notice the cost. Have you seen this place?” I snort and stand back, motioning to the whole Morgan estate. “Talk about decadence."

His jaw tenses. "You came to talk to Remy Morgan? Really?"

I draw myself up, dropping my hands to the side, and lifting my chin. "Yes. I came to collect the debt that is owed. It may only be a few thousand dollars, but it’s a lot to me."

Burn looks at me speculatively, poking his cheek out with the tip of his tongue. "You don’t just talk to my grandfather like that. You have to have an appointment. You have to know people. He is a fucking billionaire, not a busybody philanthropist."

My eyes widen. "Wait, your grandfather? So… You’re…"

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. "That’s right. I’m a Morgan. Now who the fuck are you?"

My cheeks stain with blood. "I… I’m Talia Chance. Don’t you remember? We met at the Raven’s Head Club not that long ago."

"Oh? When was it? What day?"

I scrunch my brow in confusion at his questions. Tilting my head, I find myself at a loss. "What do you mean? You were there just like I was."

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