Falling for the Devil: Book 1 of the Gods & Monsters Trilogy

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Falling for the Devil: Book 1 of the Gods & Monsters Trilogy Page 8

by Isadora Brown


  And she wanted to make sure she looked good. She wanted Andrew to know that she did care about what she looked like when the two went out together. Yes, she was upset with him for tricking her, for stealing her soul and sending her to live here, in Hell, away from her friends… But she realized it could be much worse than it was, and for that, she couldn’t help be grateful. He could have raped her or worse, but he didn’t. He could have done so many things to her, but he hadn’t. At least not yet. If it took dressing up in order to please him, in order to keep things safe between them, then she would do it.

  Harleen attempted to slip out of his grasp without waking Andrew up, but somehow, even in his sleep, his grip tightened around her. She had to lift her hand and cover her mouth in order to keep her silent giggles from slipping out. It took a few more tries, but she finally managed to get up and headed immediately to the restroom before taking a shower. Once everything was washed and her hair was dry, Harleen stepped outside, only a towel wrapped around her body. She had assumed Andrew would still be asleep, but he was up, and oh, he was shirtless.

  Harleen couldn’t help as her eyes dropped to take in his chiseled torso, saw scars litter his otherwise flawless body. Andrew watched her, noticed the desire so clear in her eyes that he couldn’t help as his own darkened even more so than they already were. He always knew she was attracted to him, much like he was attracted to her, but she had yet to actually do anything about it. Until she did, he would keep a safe distance, but it was indescribably difficult to do when she looked at him the way she was…

  “While I personally admire your choice of outfit,” Andrew said, his voice breaking through the silence, cutting their tension down, at least for now, “I find that it might be a tad distracting.” His crooked smile was on his face, and though Harleen wanted nothing more than to roll her eyes and walk away, she couldn’t stop a smile from touching her lips.

  “Hmm,” she said, placing her hands on her hips while making sure the towel didn’t fall off her body. “I had a feeling you might say that. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find a dress then.”

  Andrew nodded but said nothing as he watched her walk across the room, his dark hazel eyes filled with arousal and approval. He could not wait until he had Harleen completely naked, making love to her over and over again. He wanted to hear her say his name through a gasp, wanted to feel the way her fingernails would sink into his flesh as she begged him not stop… And he wouldn’t.

  But now was not the time to think about that.

  Andrew finished dressing in fifteen minutes and headed down the stairs and outside, waiting adjacent to a ready carriage. He glanced at the watch on his left wrist, which indicated they had about twenty minutes to get to City Hall if they wanted to be on time, and Andrew was always on time. He wore a black and white suit that fit his frame quite nicely; it was simple and comfortable, and that was what he needed when he had to endure long days making judgments and carrying them out.

  It was then that he noticed Harleen, and his breath suddenly escaped from him. She wore a simple but elegant gown, gold in color, that cut low in front. A thick, silk belt one shade darker wrapped around her waist and was tied as a bow in the back. The skirt clung to her thighs before flitting around her legs and stopping just below her ankles. On her feet were matching high heels, and her hair was left down with natural makeup on her face. She looked…

  “Are you ready then?” he asked, breaking from his thoughts before his mind could express them. He offered her his hand and helped her into the carriage.

  “I think so,” she replied. “Though I’m not sure just what I should be ready for.”

  “I find you’ll enjoy yourself,” Andrew said, giving her an encouraging smile.

  City Hall looked just like every other City Hall up on earth, except that the size was much more massive. People were already lining up, no doubt having some issue they needed to speak with the devil himself about. When they noticed the carriage, they dropped to their knees in a respectful bow. When they noticed Harleen with her arm through Andrew’s, they started murmuring to themselves, surprised that the Queen would be participating in Judgments and that the King would allow her to do so. Though Hell never claimed to be patriarchal, the people had only been used to Andrew’s presence, and weren’t exactly sure how they felt about someone new – a woman; a human – listening in on what their problems were.

  “No time for a tour, I’m afraid,” Andrew whispered to her as he led her inside the doors of City Hall. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her down a long hallway before stopping at a small door. Harleen peered at it oddly as Andrew grabbed the door handle and opened it, but without relinquishing his touch on his wife’s back. “After you, my dear.”

  “Please, no terms of endearments,” she whispered as she walked by him.

  “Ah, that’s right,” Andrew murmured back as he followed her inside. “You prefer to be called Harley.” He threw her a cocky, crooked smile, leaving Harleen to do nothing except roll her eyes and walk into the room.

  The members of Andrew’s court, as well as the audience, all stood up to show proper respect for the couple, but most were surprised that Harleen was even there. However, Andrew said nothing, as though Harleen’s presence wasn’t all that unusual, and when the couple took a seat, so did they.

  Court began. Harleen watched with sharp and even admirable eyes as each member of the Court announced a case. Andrew would listen to both sides of the case intently, look over the evidence, and then make a decision. Surprisingly enough, Andrew was fair. Sometimes, he would even go against the recommended decision made by his Court in order to give out a fairer sentence. Harleen didn’t even feel the need to speak because she thought Andrew handled everything quite well on his own.

  Up until Nigel, the man she had bumped into in the Courtyard, brought in a young boy and requested that his left hand be chopped off because he was caught stealing. They had witnesses, and even the boy confessed to it, although he did say that he was doing it in order to feed his family.

  When it came time for Andrew to make his judgment, Harleen turned to Andrew. “You cannot possibly punish the boy,” she told him in a quiet voice, though many members could clearly hear what she said. “You would be punishing him simply for being poor and that is not his fault. Especially since you know that if you were in his place, you would be doing the exact same thing.”

  “Excuse me, Your Highness,” Nigel said in a sharp voice. “But you do not know our practices here yet. Maybe it would be best if you continued to observe and allowe your husband to continue to make decisions.”

  “I know enough to know that you shouldn’t cut off a boy’s hand off because he stole a loaf of bread,” Harleen snapped, her green eyes burning with fire.

  “I am inclined to agree with my wife,” Andrew said after finally shifting his focus from Harleen’s profile and out to Court. “This particular punishment is too severe, though I do agree that he needs to be punished in some way.” He thought about it for a moment before leaning over the table and looking at the boy directly. “You there. Do you go to school, son?” The boy, completely flustered at being addressed by Satan himself, took a moment before nodding his head. “Right, every Monday and Wednesday after school, you come to my castle and help in the kitchens. You may take leftovers home, but it is necessary that you are on time and you don’t steal anything from the grounds. Is that clear?”

  The boy nodded enthusiastically and once Andrew’s gavel hit the surface of the desk he was at, the boy was led away. Without saying anything, Harleen reached over and gave Andrew’s hand a squeeze, a brilliant smile on her face. Andrew remained silent, but realized if she smiled like that at him again, he would probably give her anything she could ever want.

  “He’s gone soft, Nigel. Did you see that sentence he handed out to that boy?”

  “Of course I did,” Nigel snapped.

  “They have not yet consummated their marriage. Doing what she wan
ted is just a ploy to get the Queen on her back with her legs spread wide open.”

  “This is all her fault. She’s influencing His Majesty, and not in a good way.”

  “She shouldn’t even be permitted in Court!”

  “Don’t worry about the human,” Nigel said, his voice low and crisp as he narrowed his eyes at no one in particular. “You leave her to me.”

  Fifteen

  That night, Harleen changed out of her dress and into cotton pajamas that would no doubt keep her warm that evening. Apparently, Sean found it ironic that the pants were black with cute flames on them while the tank top was white with one flame on the chest. Sean was into irony, it would seem, and simply had to have it incorporated in his everyday life. In fact, Harleen assumed that he picked out the majority of her wardrobe. She wasn’t complaining, though; she secretly loved the new clothes, and everything fit her beautifully.

  Currently, she was laying the wrong way on the bed she shared with her new husband, her hands resting on her stomach, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. To be honest, she couldn’t believe members of the Court wanted to chop off some eight year old’s hand simply because he stole some food for his starving family. She felt that such a punishment did not fit the crime, and was even outdated. Shouldn’t Hell’s standards be up modernized? Or was her new residence still living in the Medieval Ages while Earth had progressed into what it was now? But then again, Hell was a kingdom, not a democracy. Whatever Andrew said was the law of the land, whether people liked it or not.

  Harleen still couldn’t believe that she was married to him. Every now and then, her left thumb would reach over and brush the cool metal that resting on her ring finger, and suddenly she would remember that Andrew wasn’t her friend from high school. He was her husband. She had no idea why she wasn’t that upset with him either. It was nice to finally be away from her old life, especially her uncle. She was more mad at him than Andrew. Given the fact that they had known each other from before and he hadn’t hurt her…

  Oh, who was she kidding, he was the devil for crying out loud. She was in Hell. Couldn’t she remember that? Didn’t that mean anything to her?

  The thing was, it simply didn’t feel like Hell. Everything she thought Hell was, it wasn’t. And the people here were nice and sweet, not cruel and unusual. And it should be noted she had yet to run into people she knew would end up here, like Hitler or Saddam Hussein. They couldn’t have possibly gone to Heaven, could they?

  Harleen shook her head. She didn’t want to get into it. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she was getting used to her new surroundings - Why wasn’t she mad? Why wasn’t she more upset with Andrew for stealing her away from her perfectly good home and then forcing her to marry him? It just didn’t make any sense to her and she didn’t know why.

  It wasn’t like you had a family to miss, a voice in her head reminded her. They died. And Edgar was a selfish asshole. If you’re going to be mad at someone, be mad at Edgar. He sold your soul to Andrew for money. He’s the reason you’re here in the first place. Oh, and the reason you’re not that mad at Andrew is because he’s not as bad as you thought, and you know him. He’s not Satan to you, and he might never be. To you, he’s simply Andrew.

  Simply Andrew. A small smile touched her lips as she regarded the ceiling. That kind of made sense, though, of course, she highly doubted anyone else would possibly understand.

  Without warning, the bed shifted, and speaking of the devil… Harleen bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud and cocked her head in order to get a better look at Andrew. He was only in silky black pajama pants and a white wife beater which definitely revealed the broad shoulders he had, the big, toned chest, the biceps… Stop drooling Harleen. It’s not becoming.

  “What are you staring at?” he asked her, shifting his dark hazel eyes so they looked down at Harleen.

  “Haven’t you ever made shapes with your ceiling?’ she asked him. The question was rhetorical, and as a result, Andrew didn’t answer but smiled at it nonetheless. “Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” She paused, her voice serious. “I wanted to thank you for what you did today. I know it wasn’t the most popular thing to do or what you would have done had I not been there, but it really meant a lot.”

  “You’re wrong,” Andrew said, his voice soft. He flipped onto his stomach so he could get a better look at Harleen while reaching out to her, his fingers softly tracing an errant strand of hair so it was pulled back from her face. “I would have done the same thing.”

  Goose bumps littered her body, and Harleen highly doubted that it was because of what he said.

  “Either way,” she forced herself to say, hoping her voice didn’t reveal anything. “Um… this might seem like a silly question, but… are you worried about your reputation? I mean, being married to me and then me saying something to you. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful in any way… I just had to say something.”

  Andrew had yet to remove his skin from hers, and he smiled at her words, knowing that she was flustered because she was worried. “I am not worried about my reputation,” he told her, and made sure his tone conveyed his seriousness for her to believe it. “And you should know that I am proud to be married to you, Harleen. You’re beautiful…” He placed a chaste kiss on her bare shoulder. “And smart…” Another kiss on her collarbone. “And mine…”

  Before he could place another kiss on her body, Harleen shifted. Her heart beat incessantly against her chest and her pelvis responded to his sensual kisses in a way she never expected herself to. Especially not with Andrew.

  Speaking of which, her husband seemed to only find her behavior amusing, but didn’t push his luck. If anything, he was lucky to have gotten two kisses on her before she pulled away. Idly, she wondered if he could hear her heart hammering against her chest because it would be a miracle if he could not…

  Before she could ponder the thought any more, Andrew slid out of bed and turned to face Harleen. “Come here,” he murmured, offering his hand to her. “I want to show you something.” Harleen pushed her head up, eyeing him obvious suspiciousness, which caused Andrew to become even more amused with her than he already was. “Come on!” he exclaimed, holding back a chuckle. “I promise that it’s not as bad as you think.”

  For whatever reason, Harleen lifted her hand and placed it in Andrew’s. He was surprisingly warm, and when he felt her hand resting in his, he coiled his long fingers around her and lifted her up until her feet touched the floor. Instead of releasing his hold on her, he dropped his hand from hers and chose to wrap his arms around her chest, her back touching his chest.

  “I had no idea you were this affectionate,” Harleen murmured, though it should be noted that she had yet to push him off of her. “I feel such a thing is uncharacteristic for a man like you.”

  “Hmm,” Andrew said as he began to lead her out of the bedroom and down a long hallway. “Well, I might be a fighter, but I am one hell of a lover.”

  Harleen hid a smile. “That’s from the Rocky Horror Picture Show,” she said. Harleen loved that movie, and had seen it live a couple of times which was ridiculously fun.

  “It’s also based on fact,” he said, his voice having a slight growl to it.

  After another few minutes and descending one staircase, Andrew stopped in front of the door. “Open it,” he whispered so his warm breath caressed the nape of her neck. Oh, if only he could kiss her on the graceful column of her throat. But he knew that if he did that, she wouldn’t allow him to touch her the way he was right now, and he didn’t yet want to relinquish that.

  As soon as Harleen gripped the door handle, Andrew moved his hands up in order to cup her eyes, preventing her from seeing what was inside the room. This time, Harleen couldn’t help the smile that littered her face and found herself chuckling as Andrew led her inside the room.

  “Can I open my eyes now?” she asked, trying to feign annoyance but failing at it quite miserably.

  “Patience, my dear
,” Andrew said. “Oh, I’m sorry, let me rephrase. Patience, my Harley.” He grinned in his crooked way at that, leading her into the center of the room. Finally, he released his hold on her and whispered next to her ear, “You may open them.”

  Harleen’s eyes fluttered open, and her mouth dropped. It was like a scene straight out of Beauty and the Beast. They were in the grandest library Harleen had ever come across. After a long moment, her eyes returned to Andrew’s and he nodded at her silent question.

  “This,” he said, waving his arm around. “It’s yours.”

  Harleen released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, and a shaky smile touched her lips. She couldn’t believe it. “You know,” she said, finally speaking when she thought her voice was strong enough, “for the devil, you’re not all that evil.”

  Andrew looked at her, his eyes sparkling. Though he didn’t show it, the words from her lips meant more to him than he would say. “Yes, well,” he said, shrugging his shoulder as nonchalantly as he could, “I am used to being misperceived.”

  Sixteen

  Another few days went by and Harleen felt herself begin to get used to her new place here in Hell. She accompanied Andrew to Court as well, and only said something when she believed Andrew’s court wanted the wrong punishment or made the wrong decision based on little to no evidence. This, of course, probably garnered her more enemies than friends, and there were times when she wondered if she embarrassed Andrew in any way by her outspokenness. He never mentioned anything and she didn’t want to bring up something if it didn’t exactly matter.

 

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