It was crazy.
She was dressed like a biker, her glorious honey hair was scraped into a ponytail and her delicate features were scrubbed clean of any hint of makeup. Not at all his style. But that hadn’t kept his cock from stiffening as she’d halted at the end of the bed, her expression so pinched she looked like she’d just eaten a lemon.
Every time it happened, he told himself it was nothing more than a basic reaction to the female’s blatant disapproval. There was something highly erotic in the thought of melting that brittle censure off her pretty face and teaching her exactly what she was missing.
What male didn’t enjoy a female who played hard to get?
Something all too rare for an Incubus.
And the only reason he hadn’t already had her in his bed was out of respect for his brother. This female was a cousin to his beloved Portia. It made the entire situation…complicated.
So instead he took out his sexual frustration by mocking her rigid devotion to duty and lack of anything approaching humor.
Hey, a man had to have some pleasure.
The door closed and Tiege turned to send his companion a humorless smile. “Are you happy?”
Her lips thinned. “Why should I be happy?”
“You managed to ruin the party,” he pointed out, inanely wondering if there was anything that made this woman happy. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”
Her chin tilted. “All I want is a quiet dinner, a glass of wine, and a comfortable bed.”
He couldn’t resist. Hell, he didn’t want to resist.
Deliberately advancing, he crowded her toward the nearby mattress. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Predictably, Sloane was swift to back away. For six months she’d acted like his touch was something that might contaminate her. Hell, she could barely be in the same room without inching along the wall until she was as far away from him as possible.
It pissed him off.
“What do you mean?” she demanded.
“If you’re looking for a bed—”
“I have my own,” she interrupted in sharp tones.
“Does it ever get lonely?” he taunted, lifting his arm to trail his fingers along the side of her pale face. “Or does your duty keep you heated during the long nights?”
She jerked away, sending him a glare that could strip the paint off the walls. “Why do you have to be so obnoxious to me?”
He unconsciously rubbed his fingers together, savoring the potent charge that shuddered through him.
Christ. Beneath all that starch and vinegar, the female was seething with sexual energy. Temptation curled through the pit of his stomach, taunting him with what he couldn’t have.
“Because you make it irresistible,” he informed her.
“Of course it’s my fault,” she muttered, pretending that her cheeks weren’t heating with an arousal she couldn’t entirely disguise. She might want to stick him with her obsidian blade, but she still desired him. “Would you like to hear my report?”
Did he? Nope. Not at all. What he wanted was to tumble her back onto the mattress and strip off that leather jacket and…
He sucked in a deep breath, shivering at the sweet scent of honeysuckle. “Not particularly, but you’ve made it clear you’re not going to leave me in peace until you’ve had your say.”
Her jaw clenched. “I traveled to pick up the Nephilim who’d agreed to be your companion during the ceremony only to discover that word has gone out from the priestesses that the Houses are rising up against the Obsidian Throne and can’t be trusted.”
Tiege stiffened, his hand lifting as he used his power to lock the door.
Any thoughts of parties or getting Sloane naked on his bed were forgotten as released his breath in a frustrated hiss.
He should have been prepared.
The Masters had suspected the Three had been assisting Marakel in maintaining his control of the Obsidian Throne. Not to mention the fact that they’d refused to step down and allow their successors to replace them.
And then Sloane had revealed that they’d been using their Blades to kill human females who became impregnated by their Incubi lovers.
It was a flashing red light that the Three would do everything in their power to prevent the Houses from rising up to destroy the Sovereign.
“Treacherous bitches,” he growled. “They’re afraid their own sins will be revealed.”
Sloane nodded. “That would be my guess.”
He lifted a hand to shove his fingers through his hair. “When you came to Petros you said they could no longer be trusted.”
“I couldn’t accept that their method of destroying helpless innocents was a holy duty.” She shuddered, her glorious hazel eyes flecked with gold darkening with pain. “Even if they did brand me a traitor.”