Only Gran called her Asha. Her last name wasn’t Messenger either, and although she’d flown to Bucharest from New York City, Ashayla had lived in Chicago all her life. If Sorin Ebarron knew any of those things, he’d know for certain who she really was. And he would probably just as easily guess why she was really there tonight.
His full lips curved with wicked curiosity. “Don’t keep me in suspense. If you want to alter our wager, you have to do it before the ball stops on the wheel.”
Oh, God. She must be out of her mind to think she could play games with this demon, let alone win at them.
But she had to. She meant it when she told him she’d come too far to run away now. Whether she’d realized it at the time or not, she’d been all-in the moment she stepped foot in the Ebarron casino tonight.
She couldn’t back down now, no matter how dangerous the stakes.
“Okay.” She swallowed, summoning her courage. “If I win, I want you to let me take one item from Ebarron’s treasure room.”
“What?” The request obviously took the Incubus aback. He blinked—or was it a flinch? Then his tawny brows crashed down in a scowl. “Out of the question. There are too many priceless things in there. And besides, treasure won by Ebarron—”
“Is never surrendered. Yes, I know.” Ashayla forced herself to hold his thunderous stare. “Afraid to take the risk, Incubus?”
“Not at all.” He leaned in close now, breathing her in. Dissecting her with his shrewd gaze. “The question is, will you be willing to pay my price if I win?”
As if to punctuate his challenge, the roulette wheel began to slow. The quiet rattle of the ball made the moment feel endless, time stretching to a crawl along with her indecision.
She thought about Gran back home, about the prospect of letting the most cherished person in Ashayla’s life pass to the next with a burden weighing so heavily on her frail shoulders. Gran was desperate to have the pendant back in her hands. And Ashayla was determined to be the one to bring it to her.
She lifted her chin, refusing to let the demon intimidate her. “Fine. What do you want from me?”
Ashayla didn’t expect him to move as quickly as he did. She didn’t anticipate the sudden heat and strength of his hand as it wrapped around her nape and hauled her toward him.
And she sure as hell was not prepared for the moment his mouth crashed down on hers in a fevered, dizzying kiss.
When she parted her lips on a small gasp, Sorin took full advantage. His tongue pushed past her teeth in a sweeping, erotic claiming that practically melted her where she stood.
He held her firmly as his kiss deepened, igniting a desire in her that she was helpless to deny. Her nerves tingled everywhere their bodies brushed together. Her breasts felt heavy and tight, aching for his touch. Her sex ached even more. With just one kiss, she was wet and melting, longing for more.
Sorin’s spicy male scent invaded her senses like a drug, saturating her self-control until all she knew was this man and his devastating effect on her.
This Incubus she despised, yet desired in a startlingly powerful way.
When he finally released her, Ashayla was panting, every inch of her on fire.
“My price is you,” he announced thickly. “You, for the rest of the night. I trust I’ve left no doubt as to what’s at stake.”
She rubbed her swollen lips with the back of her hand, furious that her mouth—and other parts of her traitorous body—still throbbed with pleasure from his unwelcome kiss.
Ashayla glanced to the slowing roulette wheel and the ball that would determine her fate tonight. Everything rational screamed for her to get as far away from Sorin Ebarron as fast as she possibly could. Even while everything female in her arched toward him against her will.
Sorin leaned close to murmur near her ear. “One final chance for you to end this ruse now and run back home where you belong, little Nephilim.”
His smile was as profane as it was playful. The arrogant bastard.
Ashayla bared her teeth as she skewered him with a glare. “Fuck you, Incubus.”
“Excellent. Then we’re agreed.” He chuckled, looking gorgeous and wicked—and far too confident. “I accept your wager…with pleasure.”
~
Lust spiraled through him after that hot, uninvited kiss.
It staggered him, in fact. Sorin could not recall the last time a woman had enticed him so thoroughly. Never, if he was pressed to name one.
Now all he could think about was how quickly he could get Asha Messenger naked beneath him in his bed.
Or rather, Ashayla Palatine.
That was her real name. And she wasn’t from New York, but Chicago.
He knew it now with a certainty that infuriated him almost as much as it intrigued him. As soon as she mentioned the treasure room, all the pieces clicked into place.
Damn. He should have realized even sooner, but he’d been too caught up in his carnal pursuit of the Nephilim to stop and think with anything other than his very enthusiastic cock.