Her heart slammed against her ribs, but it wasn’t just his overwhelmingly sexy presence that made her so jittery. This was a crazy plan—one that could very well get them both killed, and a whole lot of other people hurt in the process.
And that wasn’t the only thing.
There, pulsing beneath the wild beat of her heart, was another truth. Inconvenient, but no longer so easy to ignore.
Despite everything he’d done to her—the kidnapping, the forced labor, the moodiness… Despite everything she’d planned to do to him—the machinations, the lies, the stolen heart…
Maybe Jaci wasn’t in such a hurry to see Gabriel eviscerated after all.
“I’m not letting you walk in there unprotected, Jacinda,” he said firmly. “We’re either going together or not at all.”
After a long, heavy sigh, she finally thrust her hand between them, holding his dark gaze. “Partners?”
He glanced down at her hand, eyebrows lifting in surprise, and Jaci waited for the sneer. The indignant huff. The reminder that hishighnessGabriel Redthorne had associates and servants and a wide array of bootlicking, butt-kissing minions at his beck and call, but not partners.
Especially not ones like her.
But then another crooked grin slid across his lips, obliterating the last of her monumental efforts to hate him, and her vampire captor squeezed her hand, whispering the word into her ear like a promise. “Partners.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The red silk dress slid over Jaci’s curves like water, setting off her blue eyes and silvery hair in a way her usual black garments did not. Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, she applied a final coat of mascara, then took a step back, admiring her efforts.
Bubbles fizzed through her stomach—partly because of the danger she was about to throw herself into.
But the rest of those damn bubbles were all for Gabriel. The other night, after they sketched out the plan for Shimmer, he’d walked out of her apartment with no more than a whispered goodnight, leaving her pent up once again, tossing and turning and dreaming about his wicked mouth. They continued to orbit each other at Obsidian, exchanging pleasantries and talk of liquor orders and music selections. But he didn’t visit her apartment again. Didn’t scold her for walking to work without an escort. Didn’t linger as she flirted with her demon contact, feeding him lies about her so-called friend getting excited for Saturday’s meeting at Shimmer.
But always, Jaci felt his eyes on her. Watching. Assessing.
Satisfied she looked as hot as she was going to get, she stuffed the makeup into her purse, along with her Tarot cards, phone, and a few other essentials, and headed out to the living area.
She heard him approach. Saw him through the peephole, dashing in his black suit, sky blue shirt, no tie. His dark hair was stylishly messy, and she curled her hands into fists, resisting the urge to whip open the door and run her hands through it.
He stood just outside the threshold. Checked his phone. Smoothed his jacked. And then, for the first time in the history of their odd arrangement, he actually rang the bell.
Jaci gasped. Again the bubbles rose inside her, heating her cheeks.
But when she finally opened the door to greet him, all those fizzy little bubbles popped.
Gabriel didn’t say a word as his eyes traveled down the length of her body, then back up, so slowly she thought she might pass out from the torture of it. When he finally met her eyes again, his gaze was completely inscrutable. The only sign that he’d even formed any opinion at all was that telltale tick of his jaw muscle and a deep, heavy sigh that could only mean one thing.
Disappointment.
“Is this… not all right?” Fire spread from Jaci’s cheeks down to her chest, and she ran her hands over the front of her dress, fidgeting. Was it wrinkled? Was it her hair? Had she gone too heavy on the makeup? Too light?
And why the fuck did she suddenly care so much what Prince High Horse thought of her outfit?
“Listen, Prince,” she snapped. “It’s not like I had a lot of time to throw something together. I just—”
“Jacinda.” He stepped into her apartment, sucking up all the air in the room. He placed a hand on her lower back and leaned in close, lips brushing her cheek, his whispered words unleashing a new flurry of bubbles. “You look… bloody hell.”
When he finally pulled back, he stared at her again, his gaze dark.
He swallowed hard. “I thought we were waiting on the glamour magic until we got closer? So it would last longer?”
“We are. What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I just… it’s…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he finally looked at her again, his crooked smirk was back in place, cool and confident once again. “Right, then. Shall we?”
