Page 23 of Devil's Thirst

Fuck if it doesn’t work.

She’s still lying to me, but I can’t be too upset. She did reach out and text, after all, and she hardly knows me. But she’s hiding the fact that she has a stalker. I saw her sense my presence. She knew she was being watched, so why hide that fact? Why not admit to me someone’s been watching her for weeks? It makes no sense.

Then it hits me.

Could this be a normal occurrence for her? Being on stage could draw all kinds of lunatics to fantasize about her. My fingers curl into tight, angry fists.

Better not be the fucking case because I’ll carve out the eyes of anyone who steps a toe out of line.

“That sort of thing happen often?” I ask gruffly.

“Someone following me? No. Not at all.”

I let a steadying breath out through my nose and place my hands on either side of her head. I let my body list forward until there’s nothing but a breath of air between us. “Would you tell me if it did?”

“Probably not,” she says on a hushed breath. “For all I know, you could be the biggest bad. You didn’t even bat an eye about going after that man.”

“I’m not afraid of a creep like that.”

“Most people would be.”

I bring my lips closer to her ear. “I’m not most people.” I let the words draw out slowly. Seductively.

Her shuddering inhale of air presses her chest against mine. I have to pretend my palms are glued to the brick to keep from pulling her body flush with mine.

“So I’ve gathered. Who are you, Isaac? I don’t even know your last name.”

I pull back so that I’m gazing into her forested stare again. “My name won’t tell you anything about the man I am.”

“That punch told me plenty.” She arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “You know how to fight.”

“Lucky for you, since you have a stalker problem.” A smug grin teases at my lips.

“Idon’thave a stalker problem,” she repeats, this time more forcefully. “And even if I did, it wouldn’t be any concern of yours.” Her attempt to be firm with me is precious.

I lift my hand away from the wall and trail my knuckles gently down the side of her neck, around her shoulder, and down her arm until I reach her wrist. At my touch, her pulse point flits like a drunken butterfly. My hand encircles her wrist, so delicate and breakable, and lifts it between us so that the ink still marking her skin is visible. I use my other hand to trail my fingers over her porcelain skin.

“The second you chose me, you made it my concern,” I explain in a voice ravaged with emotion.

“I chose you?” she asks, baffled.

I nod. “You did. You reached out to me when you could have called literallyanyoneelse in the world.”

“I tried others, but they were busy,” she cuts in defensively, but the jab lacks strength. She knows it’s an excuse as much as I do.

I lift her wrist to my lips and press three claiming kisses slowly along her flushed skin. “You chose me, Amelie. And that’s a decision that can never be undone.”

Her lips part in disbelief. She wants to argue, but I don’t give her the opportunity. I twine my fingers in hers and guide us down the sidewalk toward my car. “Now that we have that settled, I’m taking you home.”

CHAPTER 13

AMELIE

I’m sittingin the passenger seat of Isaac’s gunmetal gray Mercedes before I collect myself to the point of formulating coherent thoughts.

Ichosehim? Can never be undone?

What did he mean by that? If Hazel had spoken those same words, I would have laughed and agreed that we were friends forever. I’m certain Isaac’s intent wasn’t remotely as lighthearted … or platonic.