He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot

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He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot Page 6

by Stephanie Rowe


  She could feel him. But where?

  “Omigod.” Paige clutched her arm. “You see someone. What? Who?”

  “Go to the bar and wait for me there.” She had to get the kid away from the danger. Now.

  “Right. I’m gone.” Paige sprinted away, dodging entwined couples and groping hands as she headed toward the bar and safety.

  Becca found him on her second pass.

  He was leaning against the other end of the bar, wearing faded jeans, well-worn hiking boots, a dark T-shirt, and a leather jacket that looked like it had been through a few battles. His face was angular and sharp, his whiskers too long to be called a five-clock shadow but too short to be called a beard. His eyes were hooded under the rim of a black baseball cap, but his fingers rested loosely around a martini glass. Tan hands, leading into forearms that were strong and sinewy, arms that had spent time working outdoors at something far more strenuous than golf or sailing.

  He gave her a deliberate nod that was so stereotypically manly-man that she wanted to shoot him with a fireball just to make him take her seriously. But if she killed him first, she wouldn’t find out who’d hired him.

  Patience was sometimes a bitch.

  Mr. Rugged He-Man shoved back his bar stool, stood up, and headed toward her, and her belly actually coiled in anticipation of his approach. He wasn’t looking at her breasts like all the other lechers in the place were, but he brimmed with sexual potency that made her blood race.

  She watched him approach and suddenly realized she’d been wrong. He wasn’t the man who’d stabbed her in the side two weeks ago. This guy was quite a bit taller than her original assailant. Close to six five, with shoulders that would knock down a brick wall.

  But he had the same aura. Same energy. Whatever the first man had been, this guy was the same. But this guy was deadlier. She could tell just by the way the air parted in front of him. He was different. He was more.

  He stopped in front of her and stared down at her, and she wanted to lean into the wall of energy he carried. Sex, but more than sex. Passion. Heat. Fire. Rage. Joy. Love. Grief. Violence. All of it twisted up into one pulsating web of heated emotion. Every emotion she had to deny about herself in order to stay sane.

  I want him.

  She blinked in surprise at the thought, then realized it was completely true. But she didn’t want him just as a man. She wanted him for all the rumbling emotions brewing inside him. She wanted to wrap herself around his boiling inner core and see what it was like to be alive like that.

  Whoa, girl. If she touched him like that and then had to return to her own delightful life of being bitter, cynical, and alone, that would seriously screw her up. Paige might have been born without a shred of self-preservation instincts, but Becca had them.

  Which meant this bubbling cauldron of maleness was going home alone tonight.

  Or without her, at least.

  And she was perfectly okay with that. Really.

  Six

  Becca Gibbs?” Nick felt a sense of satisfaction when the Rivka blinked in surprise at hearing her name. He knew enough about her to realize he had to keep her off-balance to have any chance with her. She was tough, smart, and savvy…and drop-dead gorgeous. All the rumors about her focused on how she could wipe out entire populations with the flick of her finger. Obviously, people were too caught up in her destructive side to notice that she was a woman.

  He’d noticed.

  The instant he’d seen her from across the bar, the force of his attraction to her had hit him so hard that his gut still ached, along with other parts of his body. Maybe it was because he knew what a badass she was. Maybe it was the curve of her bare shoulder. Or the twinkle of the thin gold chain around her neck, so feminine and delicate. Or maybe it was the look of total “I’ll kick your ass if you mess with me” that she’d given him.

  Didn’t matter.

  He was here on business.

  “Who are you?” She set her hands on her hips and met his gaze. Her tone commanded a response, just like her reputation. All business, no pleasure.

  “I’m Nick Rawlings.”

  She pursed her lips, no doubt searching her memories for his name. “How do you know me?”

  He grinned at the faint flash of red in her eyes. “No one’s going to believe you’re human if you let your eyes go red and hellish like that.”

  She recovered in less than a second, blinking twice to clear her eyes. Without the red glow, they were green and lovely. Far more feminine than he would have expected from a woman who tortured innocents for pleasure and demasculated grown men just to hear them scream. Her light eyes made a striking contrast to her short dark hair, tousled on top of her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed after a night of lovemaking.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she ordered.

  He dragged his gaze off her hair and back down to her face. Get it together, Nick. You’re here to work. “How am I looking at you?”

  “Like you want to eat me.”

  Oh, like that. Crap. She’d killed men for far less, and he needed her on his side, not trying to put a fireball through him. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was.”

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  He fed her the line he’d prepared before he’d met her. “I’m looking for a badass bitch from hell, and I hear you’ve got the goods.”

  She broke into a smile that had him reeling. Gone was the hard edge, replaced by a flicker of amusement and appreciation. “That’s the best pickup line I’ve ever heard,” she said. “I’m always a sucker for a guy who doesn’t mind my day job. Your place or mine?”

  Heat plunged into the southern parts of his body. “You want to have sex?”

  She stared at him, as if she could feel his arousal. “You do.” It was a statement, not a question. “I was kidding…” Her voice trailed off as she took a step backward, away from the heat he knew he was sending out, even as she lifted her chin and drew her shoulders back in a show of defiance. “What are you?”

  “I need a favor.” He watched her throat bob as she swallowed, and he opened his senses to try to get a read on how she was reacting to his request. Her emotions were so tightly strung that he couldn’t sense any of them. He’d never met anyone who could shield her emotions against him. Not to this extent. Damned infuriating. Was it a Rivka trait, or just her?

  Her hand went to her neck, obscuring his view of the soft skin, and her jaw tightened. “I don’t do favors. Everything comes with a price. Boss’s orders.” Her eyes flickered with a tinge of regret that he knew had to be entirely her own, not Satan’s.

  He couldn’t help but grin with relief. He’d been hoping the rumors of her independence had been true, that she was capable of acting for herself instead of only on Satan’s behalf. “I need you to come check something out and tell me what it is.”

  Both her eyebrows went up. “Now, see, that’s a bad pickup line.”

  He scowled. “It wasn’t a line. I need your help.”

  “Ah.” Her eyes narrowed as she assessed him. “Why me?”

  Someone bumped into him, and he took a step closer to Becca to get out of the way. “Because I’ve got a situation and I think it has to do with hell. You’re the resident expert, and the rumors are that you also manage to do what you want. I need your expertise, and your independence. This has to be kept separate from Satan.”

  A faint smile curved her lips. “Ah, yes, those rumors. You’re right. I’m completely independent from Satan and he has no control over me whatsoever. It’s such a bore to be me, since I rule the world.”

  He scowled at her cavalier attitude. “I’m serious. You in? I’ll make it worthwhile.”

  She eyed him, and he could see the flare of interest in her gaze, but she shook her head. “No. I’m really busy right now. New apprentice, trying to harvest souls who can dance, keeping up with the day job, et cetera, et cet-era. I’m quite the busy girl.”

  He ground his teeth in frustration at her careless di
smissal. “I’m rich. I can pay you.”

  “I don’t want money. I want to know what you are.”

  “I’m an elf.”

  She laughed, a charming sound that was out of character with her hard reputation. “Yeah, and I’m an angel. Nice to meet you, Mr. Elf.”

  He caught Becca’s arm, his finger tight around her biceps. The instant he touched her bare skin, he caught a flicker of her emotions. Cold, empty, a void where her emotions should be. But deep inside, he caught the hint of something hotter. A faint flame trying to survive in the vast wasteland she kept wrapped around herself. “You don’t understand, Becca.” His voice was getting low, strained, as he tried to keep his own emotions under control. “This isn’t optional. I need your help. Now.”

  Something dangerous flickered in her eyes, and he felt her muscles tense under his grip. “Back off. I don’t respond well when people try to pressure me.”

  “Yeah, well, get over it.” He let his own anger answer hers, and he felt her absorb his rage. She actually leaned into him, drawing his simmering fury into her own body and channeling it into herself. So he moved into her space, and she didn’t back away, until their bodies were almost touching, and he could feel the air between them heating up. Literally.

  Her eyes flared a soft red, almost amber. “I like your energy,” she said. “Very dark. Heated.”

  He growled and grabbed her around the waist, releasing all his anger and hitting her hard with it. Let her feel his commitment to doing anything necessary to save his sister.

  But her hands wrapped around his biceps, her grip firm and decisive. “There’s no way you’re going to intimidate me. It’s not my style.” She met his gaze, and her voice became throaty. “You don’t scare me, Nick Rawlings. Not at all.”

  “That’s a mistake, Rivka.” Desperation rumbled in his chest, and he pulled her hard against him, palming her around the waist with his hands, skin to skin for maximum conduction. “I fight dirty.” He slammed her with his energy, and her eyes widened and she sucked in her breath.

  Then a perky young blond with blue eyes and a tiny little nose popped up over Becca’s right shoulder, her eyes wide as she peered at him.

  She and Nick stared at each other for a second, then he cursed and dropped his hands from Becca, stepping back so he wouldn’t scare the girl.

  Becca frowned and glanced over her shoulder to see what he was looking at. She made a noise of exasperation when she saw the girl. “Paige! What are you doing here? I told you to go away!” She moved closer to Paige, using her body to shield her from Nick.

  “I would never hurt an innocent,” he growled.

  “Oh, I’m not an innocent.” Paige reached around Becca and held out her hand. “I’m Becca’s apprentice, Paige Darlington. I’m very evil and bad.”

  He shook her hand, probing her emotions. Love, passion, fire. And purity. The girl was untouched in all ways, more than anyone he’d met in years, even small children. No shields at all. “Yeah, I can tell you’re evil.”

  “Really? Wow. That’s great. How can you tell?”

  Becca pulled their hands apart. “Paige, never touch someone if you don’t know what he is. Too dangerous.”

  “Ooo…” Paige lowered her voice and leaned in close to Becca. “Are you going to have sex with him and then bind his soul? Can I help?” She winced and smacked her forehead. “Right. No sex. Just binding. It’s hard to remember which rules aren’t what I learned originally, but I’ll totally get it.”

  Nick raised his brow. “No sex? Part of the job requirements?”

  “Oh, no,” Paige said. “It’s just Becca. She’s—”

  Becca clapped her hand over Paige’s mouth. “She’s new.”

  “She reminds me of my little sister.” Fresh anger and worry rose at the thought of Dani, motionless in her black bubble. He balled his fists against the emotions rolling inside him, but a nearby glass still exploded, sending fragments all over the three of them.

  Becca jerked her head toward the glass, then snapped her gaze back to him, her face getting wary when she saw the expression in his eyes. She shoved Paige away from her at the look on his face. “Apprentice, wait for me out front.”

  “Again? I’m supposed to learn from you, and I haven’t seen you bind a single soul yet.”

  Becca was pleased by Paige’s first show of defiance, but now was not the time. Nick Rawlings looked like death and murder, and she had a feeling the glass was only a hint at the power that raged inside of him. “You’re still a liability. Get over it, and get out.”

  Nick’s face turned even darker as Paige stomped her foot. “Oh, come on! I’m having the best night of my life. I’m supposed to learn, and you’re not teaching me!”

  “This is the first time you’ve been away from hell. Of course it’s the best night of your life.” She didn’t like the way the air around Nick was beginning to vibrate.

  “Paige.” Nick’s voice was deep, barely restrained, and Paige squeaked as she looked at him. “Listen to your mentor. She’s trying to keep you safe.”

  Paige stared at him for a long second, then he narrowed his eyes. She visibly flinched, then bolted across the dance floor. Becca bristled at the way he’d bossed around Paige, the way he’d controlled her, but now was not the time to address that. She needed to find out what he was. Now. Before he blew up the bar with so many innocents in it.

  Nick watched Paige until she’d disappeared out the door, then turned back to Becca. “She’s going to get into trouble if you don’t start keeping better control over her.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  His eyes grew darker. “It’s a helpful suggestion from personal experience.”

  She opened her palm down by her left hip and summoned up a fireball, and let him see it. “You touch her, you die. She’s mine to kill.”

  “You’re going to kill her?”

  “If I decide it’s prudent.”

  He narrowed his eyes again. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Yeah, well, considering how well I take orders from Satan, don’t be surprised if I don’t take them from you.” She lifted the fireball, spinning it between her fingers, charging it until the flames turned from orange to deep blue, realizing suddenly that she was enjoying Nick Rawlings. He wasn’t backing down from her, he wasn’t afraid of her, but she could tell he respected her. Made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, actually.

  Nick grabbed her upper arms and pulled her so close she could feel the heat from his body against her breasts. “I won’t let you kill an innocent girl, and you will help me save Dani.”

  “Dani? Who’s Dani?” Someone near and dear, if the desperation cascading off him was any indication. The air around his body was starting to vibrate and curve, like the heat off a hot sidewalk on a summer day. She could feel it pushing against her body…Whoa. She jerked her head back so she could look at him more carefully. Was it possible? But Markku were extinct. Wiped out. Kaput. But…she passed her hand over his chest, feeling the tightly strung air clinging to him. It felt dense and hot, the way she’d heard Markku described. No way. Possibilities whizzed through her mind, and sudden hope flared inside her. Way.

  Nick’s grip tightened, and she realized he could pluck her arms from her body and toss them on the dance floor in a heartbeat. She felt a vibration coming from him, the same kind she’d felt right before the glass had exploded, but this was exponentially stronger. Dangerous. “Get a grip, Nick,” she said quietly. “There are innocents here.”

  He shook his head. “Not until she’s safe.” His voice was desperate, his eyes so angry and helpless. “Not until I find who did this to her and how to get her free, and you’re going to help me—”

  A beer stein exploded to her left, and she heard a girl shriek.

  “Nick!” A hot wall of energy slammed into her, and the mirror on the wall behind them shattered. Becca ducked as micro-shards of glass flew at her, plunging into her skin like white-hot little needles. “Dammit, Nick! There
are innocents here!” She grabbed his arm and yanked him through the floor with her, dissolving them both into an inky black pool.

  Seven

  Becca and Nick popped up through the ground of an abandoned alley behind the club, and the instant they emerged, a Dumpster exploded, sending the contents cascading through the air. “Nick! Get it together already.”

  His eyes were black, heat was sizzling into the air around his body, and he grabbed Becca’s shoulders. “You have to help me save Dani.” His voice was harsh and strained, and a second Dumpster flew up into the air behind him and slammed into the side of the brick building.

  “You need to chill out, hell boy.” She whipped up an orange fireball, laced it with gold threads, then slammed it into his chest.

  Nick groaned and dropped to his knees, clutching his chest, his breath wheezing. “Jesus.”

  Gold had taken him down. Hot damn! She’d been right! He was Markku!

  Everyone knew the Markku had once been Satan’s personal minions, and then had broken free, but no one knew how because Satan had covered up all the details.

  But if Nick was Markku, then he might know…and maybe what the Markku had done to break their ties to Satan would help her get free. A shiver ran through her, and she had to clasp her hands behind her back to keep from tackling him and demanding he tell all. Be strategic, Becca.

  The Dumpster dropped to the ground behind him with a thump, and pieces of trash began to drift down around them, littering the alley with rotting food, old newspapers, and some unidentifiable things. Becca flicked a moldy blueberry muffin off her shoulder. “Better?”

  He sat up and leaned back against the dumpster. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Any time.” She squatted in front him and pulled aside the charred threads of his shirt. His chest was well muscled and broad, and the fireball had left a blistered red circle. She brushed a hand over his dark chest hair, pausing to finger the burnt skin there.

  “What’d you hit me with?”

  “Fireball.”

  He let his head fall back against the Dumpster with a clunk and closed his eyes. “No way was that a fireball. Fireballs can’t hurt me.”

 

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