The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  “How do you know Dr. Kaplan?” she asked as she dipped a chicken strip into a ranch cup. She could put the king of junk food junkies to shame, yet she never gained a pound.

  “I met him in college.” Stirring my soup with a spoon, I wished like hell she wouldn’t press for more info.

  She narrowed her brown eyes. “Now that I think of it, I do recall him hanging around Eve’s room. He sat with her a lot while you were gone.”

  That reminder only made me feel like shit. Ian was kind and caring and fucking sane. Gage was the opposite of all those things.

  “So what’s the story there?” she asked.

  “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Uh-uh. You’re not playing the vague card on this one.”

  Spooning up a bite of chicken noodle soup, I blew on it. “He’s Gage’s brother.”

  “Get the hell out. No way.”

  “Yes way.” I sipped on my hot soup for a couple of minutes, Simone giving me the stare-down the whole time.

  “C’mon, gimme the 4-11. Did you and Dr. Kaplan have a thing?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  She raised a brow. “You wear everything on your face, Kayla.”

  Funny. Gage told me the same thing once.

  “I guess you could call it a thing.” I nibbled my lip, debating on how much to tell her. “I was in love with him.”

  “This is getting juicier by the second. Dr. Kaplan is a sweetheart. So what happened?”

  “My ex-husband happened.”

  Simone was aware of my history with Eve’s biological father…Eve’s sperm donor. DNA didn’t make a father. Being there did. Loving and caring and giving time to a child made a father.

  Gage was that to Eve.

  “When did you meet Brother Number Two?”

  “A few years ago. He hired me on as his personal assistant.” I pushed a bite of salad into my mouth and chewed. Simone didn’t know about the blackmail or the kidnapping, and she didn’t know that Gage had paid for Eve’s care. Very few people did, as he’d gone to great lengths to remain an anonymous benefactor.

  “So you ended up falling for both of them.” She mulled over that piece of information for a bit. “Looks like Dr. Kaplan still has a thing for you.” She pointed to my left hand. “Regardless of that shackle on your finger. That’s why you’re hiding your shifts here from Gage, isn’t it? There’s still something between you and that fine specimen of a doctor.”

  “Not on my end,” I said, my cheeks flushing, contradicting the denial. “Things are complicated.” What a clichéd cop-out.

  Simone shook her head. “Your life is like a soap opera, only more entertaining.” She glanced toward the entrance of the cafeteria, where I’d run into Ian. “Do you ever wonder if you made a mistake?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you’re with the wrong brother.”

  “Jesus, Simone. Gage is my husband. Not some guy I’ve been dating for a few weeks.”

  “He’s cold and distant. Does his heart even beat?”

  Letting out a frustrated breath, I swept my bangs to the side. “You met him once. I don’t think you can judge the character of someone during a single dinner.”

  “It’s called intuition. I don’t know what happened to yours, but when it comes to him, you can’t see shit.”

  I wouldn’t bother telling her that Gage didn’t care for her either. She was too crass for his taste, too immodest. Mostly, she was too independent—a trait Gage did not find attractive in a woman.

  He wouldn’t like the rebellious streak of independence sparking to life inside of me either. These last few weeks reminded me of how amazing it felt to go places, talk to people, order my own food, and wear whatever the hell I wanted before I’d said “I do” and gave those things to my husband. I just didn’t know how to voice what was in my heart because anytime I came close, he turned me to mush with the way he adored me, lusted after me, and made me feel like I was the only woman in his world.

  Except I wasn’t the only woman in his world. Katherine was the mother of his child. What little soup and salad I’d eaten threatened to come back up.

  Simone frowned as if she saw the turmoil darkening my face. I didn’t like the pity straining her features.

  “You’ve got serious baggage, girl.” She picked up a French fry and chewed, her forehead creased in contemplation. “If you want your marriage to work, you need to tell him. Sneaking around like this isn’t good for the soul.” Simone had stood by her opinion since the day I’d decided to volunteer at the hospital.

  Since the day I confided the nature of my relationship with Gage, because I’d needed to use her as a cover. She genuinely cared about people, which made her a damn good nurse. She’d cared enough about me to lie on my behalf, to play the part of yoga companion.

  “I know I need to tell him.”

  “So bite the bullet and tell him, and don’t back down.”

  “He won’t give permission for this. Not as long as Ian works here.”

  “Uh-uh.” A low growl escaped her mouth. “I’m not talking about getting his fucking permission. Don’t let him railroad you. If he really loves you, as you say he does, then he’ll want to see you happy.”

  The subject of Gage never failed to rile her up. She was headstrong, self-sufficient, and no man would ever make her kneel at his feet.

  Of this, I was sure.

  I picked at my salad, and for a few minutes, the din of the cafeteria lulled me into a state of calm. I loved being in the thick of people. Loved the dichotomy of voices that filled the space, making my chaotic thought processes fall silent.

  “What if he can’t accept it?”

  “Then you and Eve are always welcome at my house.”

  A tumultuous story tainted her past. I was sure of it. A story that had left her battered. But she didn’t talk about her life much, or the scars I sensed she carried around with her. Maybe I recognized myself in her, except she was strong where I was weak. She stood on her own two feet while I dropped to my knees on a daily basis.

  I envied her, yet I wouldn’t change who Gage was for anything. I wanted him to give me some slack—not become someone else. Embracing my submissive nature was liberating.

  I just needed…more.

  I needed to tell him everything, then maybe I could breathe again. The idea of this hanging over my head the whole weekend while we celebrated our first anniversary suffocated me.

  “You’re right. Lying to him is eating me alive.” I took a long swig of my water to quench my suddenly parched throat. “I think I’ll drop by his office. It’s going to be hard as hell, but getting this off my chest before we go away for the weekend is the right thing to do.” I scooted back and rose to my feet.

  Maybe he wouldn’t come undone with his employees on the other side of the door. Right. And maybe I’d hallucinated him bending me over his desk and forcing his thumb up my ass. It wouldn’t matter where we were when I spilled my guts.

  “Don’t back down. Make him respect you.” She pounded a fist against her palm. “If you need me to beat him up, I’m more than willing.”

  The idea of a woman beating Gage was laughable. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “Anytime. Let me know how it goes.”

  I emptied my trash and placed my dishes in the respective bins before leaving the way I’d come. As I made my way through the hospital toward the main entrance, I expected to find Ian waiting around every corner.

  As if he were stalking me and waiting to pounce.

  I was losing my damn mind. When I’d first started at the hospital, I’d known running into him was a possibility. So why had I done it? Gage would want an answer to that same question, but I didn’t have one.

  11. Tirade

  Maybe the real question I should have asked was why the hell Katherine had her slutty ass planted on my husband’s desk. She sat to the side, her perfectly tanned legs crossed toward him, hiking her red skirt up her thigh.

  Gage was busy scann
ing the paperwork in his hands, and Katherine had her back to me, so neither of them noticed my presence.

  I stepped inside his office and let the slam of the door announce my arrival. Gage lifted his gaze. Katherine startled, her ass sliding off his desk. She whirled, but when she saw me, her surprised expression turned into one of calculation. A slow smile widened her red lips. She held my gaze as she buttoned the top four buttons of her blouse.

  “Get out,” I said between clenched teeth, venom dripping from my tone.

  Gage stood with a sigh. “Kayla, calm down. It’s not—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me it’s not what I think. Get this bitch out of your office now.”

  A brewing storm darkened his expression, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t explain the fury roiling through me. Katherine had a way of getting under my skin. My jealousy manifested like a malignant tumor, reproducing bad cells faster than I could handle.

  Katherine strutted toward me, hips swaying. “Piece of advice, Kayla. Men find jealous women unattractive.”

  She didn’t know Gage at all, had no clue what made him tick. I did though, and I knew my jealousy fueled his desire for me. Maybe that’s why I embraced the nasty emotion, rather than shove it below the surface. We fed off each other like wild animals. We fucked like wild animals too.

  I wrenched the door open. “Don’t presume to think you know shit about my husband or our relationship.” I gestured to the doorway, ignoring the watchful eyes of the people on the fourth floor. “Get out.”

  She looked at Gage expectantly. “Are you going to let her treat the mother of your child like this?”

  Gage parted his lips to speak, but I snapped my fingers in her face, bringing her attention to me again. “You might have popped his kid out, but I’m his wife. Conner is always welcome. You, on the other hand, are not.”

  She left in a huff, her overbearing perfume poisoning the air in her wake. I slammed the door and rounded on Gage.

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” he shouted.

  “Why was she here?”

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question? You think it’s okay to barge into my office when you don’t have permission to leave the damn house?”

  “Fuck your permission, Gage.” I jabbed a finger at his workspace. “What was she doing in your office, sitting on your desk? If you caught me in the same position, you’d go ballistic.”

  “Well that’s the difference between you and me. I have reason to be jealous, don’t I?”

  Forget the elephant in the room; Ian stood like a brontosaurus.

  “No more reason than I do,” I said, willing my voice to remain steady. “The fact that you’re refusing to answer is reason enough. You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”

  He gritted his teeth. “We were talking about Conner. We’d almost reached an agreement on visitation when you stormed in and threw your tantrum.”

  “She needed to unbutton her shirt for that?”

  He slammed his fist onto the desk. “Enough. I’m not doing this here. Go home and cool down.” He rose, meaning to intimidate me with his full height.

  Was he really not going to explain? The bastard expected me to return home to my prison, tail between my legs, and ignore how I’d found him in a compromising situation with another woman.

  I folded my arms. “Her buttons, Gage.” No way was I letting this go.

  “You’d have to ask her,” he said, rubbing his jaw, “seeing as how I paid her little attention. I was too busy going over the parenting plan.” He came out from behind his desk. “Do you honestly think I notice anyone else? You’re all I see, Kayla. How can you not know that?”

  Because he wasn’t all I saw. The truth washed over me like sour milk. The truth fucking reeked. I’d flirted with disaster, so maybe on a subconscious level, I expected him to as well. My gaze fell to the floor, and for the first time since finding her on his desk, I doubted my too-quick reaction.

  “You have history with her.” He had a child with her—a DNA connection he and I might never share.

  “Are you kidding me?” He covered the distance between us. “My history with her means nothing. Not when I’m obsessed with fucking you into next week!” He clenched his hands, careful not to touch me. “You’re behaving like a jealous adolescent. I mean it, Kayla. Go home.”

  I jutted my chin. “I’m tired of taking orders from you. This is bullshit,” I said, swinging my hand in the air. “Have you ever heard of a courthouse? She has no business being in your office behind closed doors.”

  He grabbed my chin, applying enough pressure to make me back down. “I didn’t want to punish you on the eve of our anniversary, but you’re making that next to impossible.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Gage. Punishing me is the same as breathing for you.”

  “You want it? Fine.” He brought his face close to mine. “You’ve got it, baby. Go home and wait for me. If you’re not on your knees in our bedroom, I’ll give you more than my belt.”

  We faced off in a hushed battle for a few moments until Gage broke the standoff. He opened the door and waited for me to walk through it.

  To submit to his orders.

  My gaze lingered on his desk, remembering how her legs tempted just inches from his arm, how she’d unfastened her buttons to seduce him.

  She was after my husband.

  And I was a hypocrite because Ian was after me. I’d behaved no better than Gage. Worse, actually, because he wasn’t attempting to hide her presence. He met with all sorts of people in this space—clients, PR people, financial advisors, employees of all levels. She was only one of many.

  Afraid I was wearing my guilt on my face, I turned and fled.

  12. The Truth Shall Set You On Fire

  I returned home a half hour later, no calmer than when I’d left Channing Enterprises. His voice flitted through my mind, on constant loop. But instead of repeating what he’d said, my chaotic mind put words in his mouth, filling the holes of my insecurities with lies my heart believed were true—with things I was sure he hadn’t had the guts to say.

  If you hadn’t interrupted, I would have fucked her on my desk.

  You’re just a slave, a toy I use for pleasure. She’s the mother of my child. You can’t compete with that.

  I’ll always be right, and you’ll always be wrong.

  Entering the bedroom, I let the door bang against the wall, and the nasty voice in my head changed his tune.

  Do as you’re told.

  Don’t argue.

  Get on your knees.

  On your knees, Kayla.

  On your fucking knees now.

  The sight of the floor set my teeth on edge. Hardwood, a means of torture for my joints, and he expected me to drop and wait until he decided to show his face. I tore across the room toward the bathroom, wondering if I were finally cracking. These past few weeks of sneaking around and stealing moments of freedom had finally caught up with me. This week alone had broken my spirit. Ian’s reemergence into my life, the revelation of Conner’s paternity, and the sexually frustrated nature Gage had left me in.

  Going on autopilot in the bathroom, I stripped the clothes from my adrenaline-flushed body, dragged a brush through my wild hair. Prepared to become the slave he craved.

  Always a slave.

  Not a woman with feelings and wants and needs. My vision blurred with the hot sting of tears. The brush snagged on a tangle, and the dam finally broke.

  Always crying, always bending, always taking the blame. He was right, and I was always wrong.

  I glared at my reflection, hating the shell of a woman staring back. If he wanted to punish me, I’d give him a reason. Because blowing a gasket over finding another woman practically in his lap was a bullshit reason—an excuse to revel in his sadism at my expense. I’d done nothing wrong, unless I counted visiting sick children, eating lunch with a friend, and finding my husband with that…that bitch.

  I yanked drawer after drawer open, contents ratt
ling under my fury. My pulse skyrocketed, then dived toward the ground at the sight of the red-handled shears. I reached a hand out but faltered.

  He would be livid.

  So what? Gage Channing would be mad. Big fucking deal. I grabbed the scissors and straightened my spine with purpose. Parting a thick section of hair, I counted to ten before raising the shears.

  Snip.

  The first lock of hair drifted to the tile. I brought the scissors to the left side of my head. Tears rimmed my eyes, threatening to spill over.

  Snip. Snip. Snip.

  My bare breasts heaved, nipples puckered. I didn’t want to be warm. Warmth let feeling in, and I was suddenly and amazingly numb. Besides, warmth deceived with its inherent comfort, and comfort didn’t exist in my world—not when he wanted me on my knees. Not when he wanted a meek and pliable and obedient robot for a wife.

  Snip. Snip. Snip.

  The severed strands circled my feet, freeing my shoulders from the weight of the red hair he loved so much. I couldn’t help but recognize the significance in this moment, the symbolism, and it terrified me. It was only hair, but this rebellious act would change the tenuous dynamic we’d settled into for the past year. This very moment was about to fracture our world and expose the guts of our lies.

  Narrowing my brows in determination, I faced the reflection of the woman whose eyes lit up with something foreign. Something challenging.

  Something he wouldn’t like.

  This strange woman from another time—before rules and rituals and Gage Fucking Channing—was reborn as she lifted the shears and cut off the last section of hair.

  Movement in the mirror drew my attention. He stood in the open doorway behind me, his posture inflexible as always. My eyes swerved to his before dropping to the belt clasped in his determined fist.

  I whirled, crossed my arms, and silently threw down a challenge. A belt wouldn’t cut it this time. I knew it, and now he did too. No, on the eve of our first anniversary, Gage would have to do better than that.

  “Do you mean to goad me?” he asked, flexing his hand around that strap of leather.

  “What are you going to do about it? Lash me with your belt?” I grabbed the brush and yanked it through my newly cut hair. “Or maybe you’ll have me sit on your desk next time, half dressed since you seem to enjoy that sort of thing.” I raised a brow. “Huh, Gage? What are gonna do?”