Page 43 of Deal with the Devil

He tips his face to mine, his lisp curling around the word roughly, “No.”

“But—”

“I’m pissed off, not because of the fuck who’s stalking you, or the ex who won’t let you go, or the loser ex best friend who won’t take a clue. I’m pissed off because when you needed me, I wasn’t here. I wasn’t here when that email came in because I was recording. I wasn’t here when the panic took hold and refused to let you go—pulled you so deep under that it took me a solid five minutes of restraining you before you realized who. I. Was. That you were safe. I’m pissed off—” His massive body crowds mine, towering over me in a way that might look menacing from the outside, but from the inside—from inside me—it’s anything but. “Because Ifailedyou.”

Something hot stings the backs of my eyes. “Kane.”

“You’re mine, Nevaeh.” The way he says those words, there’s no room for argument. No room for denial. It’s fact. Simple fact I feel in my bones.He believes these words. Wholly.“You’re mine to protect. Mine to cherish.Mine.” His forehead touches minegently, a ghostly breath of pain expelling from his lungs. “And I failed you.”

I don’t think as I stretch up on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to the corner of his. “You didn’t.”

The noise he makes is a broken one. The shattering of souls, the splintering of will, before his hands are cradling the side of my face and he’s kissing me. It’s the first time the kiss hasn’t been guided by desire, sparked by lust. This kiss is different, consoling. It’s a stroking of tongues and a soothing of souls. It’s need in his most basic, most primal form.

This man is going to undo me. Every stitch and thread untwined until I’m entirely exposed to him, infused by him.

I can already feel him there, scratching at the borders of my heart. It’s been a month—what is this man going to do to me when the year I promised him as his wife is through?

I can’t think about that as he deepens the kiss, his breaths pushing between my lips.

My mind is screaming at me to guard myself from this—from him. But I’m just too tired after the emotional slaughter I endured today. I’m too weak to protect myself against his invasion. To desperate for a future where he kisses me like this for real.

Thankfully, as though sensing that I’m fragile, too fragile for this, Kane pulls away. His hands are still on my face when he breathes, “Kissing you is addictive.”

A surprised laugh shakes my body. I’ve been kissed by more than a few men, and not a single one has made such a claim. “You’re good at pretty words.”

The blue in his eyes darkens. “Nevaeh.”

I interrupt the tongue lashing I’m sure he’s going to give me as I dance from his hold. “I’ve seen your pictures online with all your girlies, Kane. You can’t fool me.”

I’m halfway to the kitchen when he asks low, “What are you doing?”

I turn to see him still standing where I left him, his hands pushed halfway into the pockets of his jeans, head tipped back just so. In this stance, the man looks even bigger, spread out somehow. As if he needs to take more space, huge as he is already.

“I’m making a tea.”

“No.” He gives me a small, firm, no-bullshit shake of his head. “What are you bringing up past women for?”

My heart drops a heavy, violent thud. But I force a teasing smile that totally doesn’t cut it. “No particular reason.”

Lie. Lie! I’m trying to protect my heart from the invasion of you. I’m trying to remind myself that you’re good at this. At playing at real.

I don’t wait for his reply as I duck my head and finish my flee into the kitchen.I’ve got the kettle switched on when Kane stops behind me, his presence, as always, massive.

I do my best to ignore him and my thundering heart, but fail when he sets his big mitts onto the counter on either side of me, towering over me as he cages me in. I feel the heat of him against every inch of me, and yet not a single part of us actually touches.

“Two reasons you brought that up, Sunshine.” There’s danger in his tone as he continues, “One You’re trying to convince yourself you’re like them, meaningless fun. Two. You’re attempting that boundary shit again.” He tips his head to rumble against my ear. “Don’t make me the game, baby. You won’t win.”

“I thought this was a game.”

“Wrong.” I can feel the low simmer of anger radiating off him, but I’m still not afraid of this man. I don’t understand this unshakeable safety I feel in his presence—in the face of his anger.

“How am I wrong?”

“We’re not a game.”

“We’re fooling everyone, Kane. We’re the definition of a game.”

His hands move to my hips, and he physically turns me to face him. Blue eyes pin on mine and he repeats, “We’re not a game.”

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