Sex, Lies & Demon Ties (Dark Desires #1)

by C. J. Laurence

She eyed him for a second before smiling. “Kyla. And good morning to you. At least someone has some manners.” She ran an eye over Azazel and smirked. “And dress sense.”

  Balthazar stifled a laugh as Azazel’s mouth dropped open. Stepping back in front of his brother, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you come here to be a bitch or is there an actual purpose to your appearance this morning?”

  Kyla blinked several times and clenched her jaw. “Wow. Are you an arsehole twenty-four hours a day or just first thing?”

  “For you, gorgeous, twenty-four seven.”

  She gave a single nod. “Fair enough. I came here to wave a white flag, but seeing as you’re such an inconsiderate, arrogant bastard, screw you!”

  A splintering crash resounded through the air as she threw her gift on the floor. The white porcelain pot, which housed a small bonsai tree smashed into several chunky pieces, splattering the plant onto the concrete.

  Azazel chuckled at her little outburst. “You’d love to, darling, wouldn’t you?”

  Kyla’s mouth fell open, almost choking on his audacity. “Fucking unbelievable!”

  “Yes, that’s what they tell me.”

  She summoned her most murderous stare, her blood boiling in her veins. Turning around, she stomped back down the drive, missing the pompous wave he gave her as she walked away.

  Balthazar turned to his brother, curious. “And that was…?”

  “Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen, little bro. It’s all in the tactics, trust me. She’ll be back in a couple of days, begging me to take her there and then. The whole village will need a drink after I’m done with her.”

  Balthazar shook his head in disbelief at his brother’s words. He was getting worse every year. He pushed past him, shouting after Kyla as she hurried down the driveway. She ignored his calls, despite knowing he was the friendlier of the two.

  Balthazar caught up with her, his long legs covering the ground in seconds. “Hey.”

  She refused to acknowledge him, staring ahead as she continued to march on.

  He tried again, touching her arm. “Hey.”

  “Don’t touch me!” She whirled around, her azure eyes flashing with anger. “If you’re going to be as much of a jerk as your brother then you can jog on.” She folded her arms over her chest for extra effect.

  Balthazar chuckled. “I’m nothing like him. Trust me.”

  “Trust you? With my experience of the male species, that’s the last thing I’ll be doing.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll leave you be.”

  As he turned around, she relented, curiosity killing the cat. “What’s his problem anyway? I mean seriously, has he not heard of manners? Common courtesy? You need a flipping medal to put up with him.”

  Balthazar laughed, knowing full well that Azazel would be listening in on their conversation with every ounce of his heightened hearing. “We’ve been together since we were young and our parents died. Unfortunately, I don’t know life without him so I just have to suck it up and carry on.”

  “I pity you. I hope I don’t see him again because I won’t be responsible for my actions if I do.”

  “Well, that’s a shame…”

  “Why’s that?”

  Grinning, Balthazar said the one sentence which he knew Azazel would kill him for. “Because I think he wanted to ask you to dinner.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  He shook his head, chuckling. “My brother doesn’t do well with emotions. He struggles to show them…positively.”

  Kyla snorted. “You’re not kidding.”

  “I know he likes you. Just give him a chance. He’s a good guy really—once you get to know him.”

  “OK. I’m trusting you here but if this goes pear shaped—” She thrust her finger his chest. “–I’m holding you responsible.”

  “That’s fine by me. I’ll get him to call you?”

  “No. He can grow a pair and ask me to my face.”

  Balthazar chuckled as she ended the conversation by walking off. He’d barely managed a dozen steps before Azazel was in his face.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Exactly what you wanted it to be. Now, you either work this out of your system and treat her like a lady, or you move on and leave her to me. Which is it?”

  Azazel stared at his brother with menace oozing from every pore. He hated the fact that Balthazar could read him so easily. “Fine. She’s too good to be wasted on you anyway.”

  Balthazar smirked. “You’re welcome by the way. You’d better treat her right, Azazel, or you’ll have her to answer to.”

  Azazel scowled before walking back to the front doorstep and glancing down at the fragments of Kyla’s peace offering. He waved a hand over the mess, using a small amount of his energy to reassemble all the splintered fragments that lay before him. He seated the delicate tree back in its home, stroking the broken branches straight. Heading back inside, he placed the gift on one of the dark bay windows, an ever so slight softness glowing through his eyes. A gentle smile ghosted over his lips for a brief second.

  Balthazar watched his brother from across the room, his own heart becoming heavy with the realisation that actually, he wanted this woman for himself. However, history repeating itself was not something he wanted to face.

  CHAPTER V

  Azazel managed to rein in his temper as he stepped inside the pub later that morning. The smirk playing across Kyla’s rosy red lips did nothing to help him achieve this. She continued cleaning the bar as he took a seat in front of her.

  “Well, fancy seeing you here.”

  He coughed as he wriggled on his seat. “Morning.”

  She grinned. “Morning.”

  He scratched his head as he fiddled his words across his tongue. “How are you this morning?”

  “Not too bad now it’s warmed up a bit.”

  A glint of amusement flickered through his eyes. “So, err…are you free this evening?”

  “Well, I’m not sure. I do need to wash my hair…”

  “Don’t be a cow.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “And that, my friend, will get you nowhere.”

  He pulled his lips into a thin line as he let out a deep breath. “Could I take you out this evening? If you’re not washing your hair that is.”

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “Is that a yes?”

  She smirked. “Pick me up at seven. From here. I still haven’t decided if you’re some sort of murderer yet.”

  He stood up, grinning. “If only you knew.”

  ***

  Later that evening, Azazel appeared at the pub, punctual and surprisingly in a good mood. He opened the car door for Kyla, which earned him a beaming smile.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “Ever been to Paris?”

  “Do I strike you like the kind of woman who would have ever been to Paris?”

  “Well, the quiet ones are supposedly the worst.”

  “Ha. I have definitely never been described as quiet.”

  He winked, poking his tongue inside his cheek. “We’ll see if you are.”

  She narrowed her eyes and spoke her next words with scorn. “Seriously? You haven’t even complimented me on how I look and yet you’re making innuendos thinking I’m going to jump you before the night is over? Don’t flatter yourself, mate.”

  Azazel stared out of the windscreen, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He cleared his throat before he spoke in a calm, resigned voice. “You look lovely this evening.”

  The words struggled to leave his mouth as he forced himself to say something nice for the first time in centuries. It’s not that he didn’t think she looked nice, it was the fact that he struggled to say and do positive things.

  “A minute ago I was quiet. Now you use a word to describe a piece of your nan’s flowery furniture. Charming.”

  He chuckled. Her attitude really did amuse him. “I’m sorry.” He surprised himself as that strange word l
eft his mouth without even thinking about it. “I’m not too good with niceties.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  An awkward silence fell over them as he drove them out to a tiny airfield. He had debated using compulsion and magick to get her to Paris this evening, but something told him to do it the difficult way. So, instead, he’d cheated his way onto flight plans and compelled a local pilot to give up the next several hours of his life for nothing.

  As the small airstrip came into view with a streamlined blue and white plane sat on the smooth tarmac, Kyla gasped. “You’re not seriously taking me to Paris…?”

  He stopped the car and walked around to her door, opening it for her. “Yes. Why? Is that a problem?”

  “Um…no?”

  He took her hand as he led her up the small set of stairs. “Good.”

  The interior of the plane was pure luxury—all cream leather seats, polished wood trim and a huge flat screen TV. Kyla had to admit, to herself of course, that she was impressed.

  Still on his best behaviour, Azazel took hold of Kyla’s seatbelt, strapping her into the leather chair. He fumbled with the metal clip as his overconfidence waned under his nerves. Being millimetres away from her skin sent his imagination in a million different directions. The heat radiating from her delicious body sent him into overdrive. She was sizzling hot, and he was turning into a frazzled mess.

  Noticing his bungling third attempt with her seatbelt, Kyla rested her hand on his with a gentle touch. “I think I can manage a seatbelt.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

  A satisfying click sent him straight to the kitchen to pour himself a shot or two of whisky. Refusing to acknowledge what was happening, he then served her a glass of champagne, complete with a solitary strawberry floating in it. As the pilot informed them both that he was ready for take-off, an awkward silence descended over the cabin.

  Once the plane settled into its short flight, Kyla broke the mounting tension and questioned his choice of date for this evening.

  He grinned. “Women like being impressed, do they not?”

  She smirked. “Yes but not all women are impressed in the same way.”

  “The majority are.”

  “Well, I consider myself part of the minority.”

  His smile fell like a lead balloon and his words tumbled out in a snappy, irritated tone. “Well, tonight you’re part of the majority.”

  “I’m so glad I got a choice in the matter. Thank you.” She sighed and rolled her eyes, staring out of the window at the darkness surrounding them.

  He raised an eyebrow at her sarcasm, her attitude grinding on him severely. “I can see your appreciation for my efforts so far. Thank you.”

  A hot flush of embarrassment crept up her neck, settling in her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it will be a lovely evening.”

  A short while later, they landed, leaving the confinement of the plane. The tension between them lightened as she clapped eyes on the Bentley GT convertible waiting at the side of the runway.

  “Now you’re just showing off.”

  “I’d have brought the Zonda if I was showing off.”

  She smiled, allowing him to open the car door for her. “I don’t even know your surname. I presume it’s Worthington?”

  He grinned as he settled in the driver’s seat. “No. It’s Dover.”

  “Oh.” She thought over this for a moment before shooting him a withering look. “Ben Dover. Ha ha. Funny.”

  The hustle and bustle of the approaching city turned her attention from him. Bright lights, cars and people darting about everywhere, she found herself mesmerized. Her gaze fell upon the old buildings, drinking in their beautiful architecture as she wondered what secrets and history they held within their walls. If only they could talk.

  A few minutes later, he parked the car a mere stone’s throw away from the Eiffel Tower. He glanced at his watch. “We’d best get a move on. They like their guests half an hour early. Dinner is at nine.”

  She gazed up at the stunning tower, her eyes straining to see the top. “Wow.”

  “That’s where we’re going for dinner.”

  Her jaw dropped before an excited grin crossed her pretty features. “Are you being serious?”

  He exited the car, walking around to her side as he offered her a hand. “Totally. Now we need to get a shift on before they throw us out for being late.”

  Kyla was as useful as a newborn foal as Azazel’s purposeful march led them towards the restaurant booth and into the lift. “We have window seats. Best seats in the house.”

  She smirked. “You’ve already impressed me. No need to keep trying.”

  He grinned at her little admission, the temptation to tease her almost taking over. A minute later, the lift stopped at the first floor restaurant. As the doors pinged open, Kyla gasped in amazement at the sleek, contemporary luxury that lay before her.

  Crisp white cloths dressed each table, gleaming cutlery placed neatly on top. Red velvet seats beckoned their next guests for a comfortable meal. The low lighting combined with the flickering candles on each table set a perfect romantic mood.

  A young waitress led them to their table nestled in between two adjoining floor to ceiling glass walls. As Azazel helped Kyla into her seat, her focus was glued to the stunning overview of Paris lit up in all its glory.

  She blushed as he sat opposite her. “This is just fantastic. Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me.” He opened the bottle of red wine on their table. “It’s always nice to treat a beautiful lady.”

  “Cheesy, but I’ll let it go.”

  Both fell silent for several minutes as they pondered over the menu. Azazel decided on his order, glancing up to see Kyla still perusing over the broad choices. He took his moment to indulge in her, sweeping his gaze over the mane of red curls framing her sweet face. Her vibrant sapphire eyes scooted across the white pages as she debated her options. Roving his way down to her chest and over her arms, he was more than enjoying the view.

  Until he spotted it.

  With the weight of a ship’s anchor, dread settled in his chest. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t shift his stare from the ring on her finger.

  CHAPTER VI

  After a couple of minutes, Azazel managed to regain his composure, to an extent, and downed a full glass of wine. Still not quite thinking right, he choked on the liquid trying to skate down his throat.

  Kyla looked up, a little startled. “Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. Just went down the wrong hole.”

  She smirked and resisted the urge to frown as he poured himself another glass of wine. His attention fell to her hand once more, resting on the glinting precious stones. It was as if they remembered him and were laughing at him, poking at his memories, reminding him just what he did all those years ago. Staring out of the window, he polished off his glass in two gulps as he battled with his inner demons raiding his mind.

  Unable to help herself any longer, Kyla challenged him. “You like that wine?”

  A cold stare came her way, a nervous edge tinging his normal look. “Yes. Why?”

  “You’re drinking it like you’re a fish.”

  He smiled and poured himself another serving, chucking it back with barely a blink. “Life is for living, right?”

  “Sure.”

  She pursed her lips as reality set in. Everything he’d impressed her with so far, there had to be a catch somewhere. Unfortunately, being an alcoholic was not something she was prepared to compromise on. As he finished the bottle off, their food arrived. She indulged her senses in the delicious aroma coming from her plate. It was enough of a distraction for her to bite her tongue when he ordered another bottle of wine.

  Silence settled over them as they delved into their meal. Azazel’s stress became clearer as his knife screeched across his plate like fingernails down a blackboard. Kyla shuddered as the high-pitched shrieking of metal on porcelain grated through her eardrums. St
ill remembering her manners, she said nothing.

  But then, as only Azazel could, he left her with her mouth wide open in sheer disbelief as he reached across the table and polished off her glass of wine too.

  Reminding herself to be tactful and not to fly off the handle, she carefully placed her cutlery down with precise movements before addressing the problem at hand.

  “OK. I can see you have a problem with alcohol.”

  He scanned his jaded eyes across her face. Finding his courage, he pointed his knife at her ring. “Where did you get that?”

  She looked down at the piece of jewellery on her middle left finger. “This?”

  “Yes. That.”

  “My gran gave it to me when I was a little girl. Why?”

  He licked his lips as his attention remained glued to the unique ring. “An old friend of mine once had one identical to that.”

  Kyla stared at the double-banded gold and platinum ring. The two metals entwined around each other as a pair of teardrop stones nestled against one another end to end. The join between the glittering emerald and sparkling amethyst was marked by a small row of twinkling diamonds.

  “This has been in my family for generations. My gran insisted I wear it all the time but it’s such a beautiful ring I only wear it when I go out.”

  He pursed his lips. “Does look good on you. Perhaps you should take your gran’s advice.”

  She laughed. “This thing is like a curse, I swear. Every time I go out, I can guarantee no man comes within ten feet of me. I went out without it one night and had a rather successful night. I tested the theory and it’s the same every time—I wear it, I end up alone, I leave it off, I go home with company. No wonder my gran told me to wear it all the time.”

  “So you’ve worn it tonight because…?”

  “Well, you’ve hardly been the charming gentlemen from the start, have you?”

  Finally relaxing a fraction, Azazel warmed up to small talk as they finished their food. By the time their meal was complete, he’d consumed four bottles of wine. He kept a beady eye on her ring like an antelope watching a lion in the distance. He almost expected it to come to life and devour him for his ghastly sins.