Instead, she’d bought a scarlet bikini and a couple of bright cotton dresses. She’d gotten her hair cut off above the shoulder—it had been weighing her down—and she felt light and free and…vaguely disappointed.
She was aware of the days ticking by, and she needed to get on with living before she frittered all her time away. So tonight as the sun went down, she headed out, bucket list in her pocket, and found a bar on the seafront with a terrace that led onto the sand.
Alcohol was banned in the Abyss, a safety measure as demons went crazy on it. Consequently, she’d never drunk before, but it was on the list. So when the handsome waiter approached her, all dark eyes and flirtatious smile, she took a deep breath and ordered the cocktail of the day. Now, she picked up the glass, sniffed the contents. It smelled like nothing she’d ever encountered. She put down the drink and picked up the menu. The main component was tequila. Sounded good. She was procrastinating. There was absolutely no reason for her not to have a drink.
The alcohol would loosen her up a little, help her apply herself to the next few things on her to-do list. She glanced down at the notebook on the table…
Have a drink
Have a few more drinks
Dance all night
Find someone to kiss me for…five minutes, non-stop
Make mad passionate love to some gorgeous stranger
Swim in the ocean in the moonlight
Bungee jump
Make love in the ocean
Ride a horse
Fly…
She could see a trend—she definitely needed a man for most of them. Time to make a start. But something held her back, and she still didn’t pick up the drink. Instead she allowed her gaze to wander around the terrace until it clashed with a man leaning against the bar. He lifted his glass to her, and she studied him. Could he be a contender for the “gorgeous stranger” on her list?
Although he was good looking, he didn’t make her heart beat faster or make her want to crawl inside him and lose herself in his arms. She’d seen the looks that passed between Faith and Asmodai, and she wanted that. All the same, she had to start somewhere, and she forced her lips into a smile. He smiled back and put his beer on the bar. Oh God, he was going to come over. He turned aside to speak to his friends, giving her a moment’s reprieve.
Maybe the alcohol would help. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the drink, put the straw in her mouth, was about to suck, when a hand rested on her arm, gently pushing the glass back down onto the table.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The words were like rough velvet, ruffling her skin, sending prickles down her spine and her heartbeat into overdrive. She didn’t think she’d ever heard the voice before, but it resonated somewhere deep inside her.
Slowly she raised her head to look at the man who stood to the side of her—and her world stopped, her racing heart stuttered, and her mouth fell open.
She might never have heard him before, but she had seen him. Carl, the Order’s Head of Security. Presumably someone had noticed she was gone after all and sent the Order’s policeman to collect her like a piece of mislaid luggage.
But why couldn’t they have sent someone else? Anyone else.
She’d seen him occasionally when he’d visited Asmodai’s home on business. He was stunningly gorgeous, with a lean, muscular body that moved with a grace that belied his size, short dark hair, and the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen. And every time their paths had crossed, he’d looked right through her, like she was invisible.
So what was new?
She’d responded by retreating behind her I’m-a-total-bitch facade.
She was aware that werewolves looked down on her kind. Well, most of the supernatural races looked down on hers. And who could blame them, when they had been happy to live in servitude for generations.
Well, no freaking more. Not if she had any say in it.
She tightened her grip on her drink and tried to lift it, but his hand was still firmly on her arm.
“Not a good idea,” he murmured.
“Why?” she asked, ignoring the way her nipples tightened just from his softly spoken words. She tilted her head to look into his face. This close, she could see the little flecks of gold in his eyes and the thick black lashes fringing them.
He shrugged but didn’t answer. “You need to come with me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” His fingers tightened on her arm, and her muscles locked up tight.
She glanced around, searching for some way out, some way to distract him. Her gaze caught on the man at the bar. He raised an eyebrow.
She turned her attention back to Carl and sniffed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I think you are, sweetheart.”
Why did he call her that? She wasn’t his sweetheart. And why did the word start an insistent little pulse between her thighs? She gritted her teeth. “If you try and make me, I’ll scream and cause so much fuss, you’ll wish you’d never met me.”
“I think you’ve wreaked enough havoc already.”
Havoc? What havoc had she ever caused? She was Little Miss Obedience. Why couldn’t they just let her have a few days? “What do you want?”