Page 43 of Her Devil

“Now that’s an image that is not going to help me sleep,” I reply with my hand on the door knob, ready to go in, but not quite ready to leave.

“Sleep well.” He winks, passing and heading down the corridor to his room at the end.

My gaze lingers long after it should, and I hurry into the darkened bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. Olly is soundly asleep as I place the mask carefully on the bedside table and strip what’s left of my suit off, throwing it in the basket before washing up and climbing under the sheets.

Not putting some kind of proper sleepwear on is probably a mistake, considering how often these people like to drag us out of bed, but I’m hoping since we’ve already had the inspection, our morning will come easily.

But as I lay in the darkness with nothing but the sound of my roommate’s heavy slumber to keep me company, my mind wanders. Not far, just down the corridor, to thoughts of the man now hot, sweaty and working out.Fuck.

FOURTEEN

IVY

It’s the smell of smoky bacon that rouses me, mingled with the heavy dark-roasted coffee I bought and the sound of laughter coming from the next room. The ground-floor bedroom would not have been my choice, but we were the last ones here, so you’ve got to take what’s left, I guess.

Tamsin closes the door behind her, blocking out both the noise and the smell before she drops a bottle of water on the pillow beside my head, cracking her own open and popping a couple of the painkillers out. She’s already dressed, sweating slightly as she drops to her bed and removes her trainers, pulling the buds from her ears.

“You’ve been out running?” I groan, the words coming out like I’ve been eating sandpaper as I push up, opening the bottle and taking a healthy swig as she preps for her imminent shower. “And here I was thinking that’s what you were getting up to last night, blowing the cobwebs off.”

“Oh, haha.” She throws her buds in my direction, the wires getting tangled as they land on the floor somewhere between my bed and the bathroom doorway. “Aimee is making breakfast. You might want to get up.”

The bathroom door closes quietly, the sound of running water following swiftly as I lay there, still, attempting to cobble the pieces together from the night before. I’m no closer when she swans out, towel wrapped around her head, a fresh pair of leggings and a loose tee hanging from her perfect frame as well as the dress from last night.

“You’re not seriously going to waste the day away lounging in there, are you?”

Two knocks ring out at the door before I have a chance to reply, “Breakfast is ready,” being called out.

“Time to haul ass.” She smiles as I flip her off, already done with her overly chirpy morning self, before heading out and leaving me to my overactive brain.

Quickly, I throw on some lounge pants and a vest, tying my tangled mess of hair in a high pony and running a brush over my teeth in double quick time.That coffee did smell good.

Charlotte hands me a rack of toast as I appear from our bedroom, muttering something about perfect timing before heading back to grab something else from the kitchen.

The rest of the girls are sitting around the table as we join them, the sunshine streaming in the full-height living room window behind me as I sit.

“I wasn’t sure what everyone’s favourite hangover breakfast would be so I’ve done a little bit of everything,” Aimee explains, gesturing to the table full of food. “Of course, as we get to know each other better, I’ll get this refined down. Perks of being a morning person.”

I smile, but it doesn’t meet my eyes as I pluck a couple of pancakes, some bacon, and a bunch of fruit out and set them on my plate. Everyone else picks their poison and there’s easily enough food left for at least four other people when the front door slams closed.

“Didn’t you lock that when you came in?” I ask Tamsin.

She nods around a mouthful of food, concern creeping over her features as a red-head rounds the corner, two of those black-masked robe-wearing security guards with her. The mask she wears is not dissimilar to the ones we wore last night, a combination of black and white lace, delicately edged with feathers.

“No need to get up, ladies. Please continue your breakfast,” she says with a smile, pulling a chair out at the head of the table and joining us. “That coffee smells fabulous, do you mind if I join you?”

“Ah, sure?” Charlotte replies, the statement definitely sounding like a question.

One of the black-clas men grabs her one. He doesn’t struggle to find it, there’s no looking through them all to find the right one. No, he goes straight to the right one, grabs a mug out, and hands it over.It’s disconcerting. One loiters by the corridor to the entrance, arms folded as he leans his shoulder against the wall, and the other one stands behind her silently as she fills the mug and sits down with a smile.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Penelope asks from the other end of the table, continuing her breakfast without so much as looking her way.

"You don't know... You weren't told I was coming. Why am I not surprised?" The interloper sighs, dramatically rolling her eyes. "I'm Liselle, current wife to… well, I don’t suppose it matters, and former Angel."

The table is silent as she pauses, looking from one of us to the next before continuing undeterred. "I'm sorry I'm late, I would have liked to be here last week to meet you but the schedules didn't marry up."

Well, I guess that answers the question of who she is... why she's here is still anyone's guess.

“So tell me, how did the introduction go? I swear, when we met our Devils, the entire night was a complete sham. Kitty hated the entire lot of them on sight, and I’m sure she never got over it,” she rambles.

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