Page 131 of Hellbound

Marian sneered, indignation eclipsing self-consciousness as she walked to the pool’s edge. She looked down on him—a novel feeling when the object of her ire always dwarfed her. “Don’t goad me, shadow man. I’m still pissed at you.”

He lowered his brows. “Why?”

“Are you serious? After everything you’ve told me—everything you’ve done—you need me to spell it out for you?”

Vale frowned. “I do.”

“You’re unbelievable.” She fumed quietly as she lowered herself to sit on the rocky edge of the pool and slipped her legs into the water. “I don’t even know where to start. You let me wander around L.A. with this death mark on my wrist. You told the nicest person I’ve ever met that her family thought she’d died—”

“An error I’ve since corrected.”

“And for weeks, you’ve held on to these pieces of my life I had no idea even existed.” Marian threw up her hands. “Have I ever played pool? Did I like sports? Was I crafty?”

“Yes, no, and you knitted for three weeks in high school. You made woolen coasters. They were not good.”

“So I sucked at knitting? Cool. And now I have a dad. I—fuck, all of this is so much to process. I need years.”

Vale tilted his head. “I’m afraid I can’t give you years.”

“It doesn’t help that we’re talking about this while you’re standing there in teeny tiny swim trunks.” Which she kept staring at despite her best effort not to. She couldn’t help herself while a massive part of his anatomy very visibly strained against the fabric.

“Yes, I noticed your interest in my shorts.” Vale waded to the ledge and folded his long, muscular arms on the rocks. His mouth curved in a devilish grin. “How do they factor into all this?”

“They … they don’t. But you should have sized up.” Marian bit back as she shimmied away from him. Vale caught her by the arm and held her still.

“You can’t hide from me, my leiah,” he crooned. “I’ve been attuned to your desires ever since you first sauntered into the Presidium and tracked mud all over my carpet. Your wants haven’t changed, even in the absence of your memory of the Marian who wasn’t quite so hostile toward me.”

Marian blanched as that filthy dream came to mind. Dream. Had they …?

“We’ve never been intimate,” he said with a soft snort, once again reading her mind and making her want to gouge his eerie blue eyes out at the same time.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp as her ears pinkened. “Let’s change the subject before I set this fucking house on fire.”

“What a shame then that my home insurance doesn’t cover arson.” Vale hummed. “There’s another factor that I didn’t consider until I saw it for myself in your mind: you don’t believe anyone could possibly desire you.”

Marian wanted to sink through the floor. “I changed my mind. Go ahead and drown me.”

“You don’t deny it?”

Where was this going? She didn’t want to answer his question; the answer sounded so pathetic.

No, I don’t.

She averted his gaze. “It’s been a rough few years. I know exactly what I look like. What people think of me. Nobody wants this, and I don’t care.” She waved a hand down her chest.

A gentle voice and a firm hand on her chin forced her to meet his gaze. “You are far crueler to yourself than I could ever be. And you are so very wrong.”

Marian fixed him with a bewildered stare. She snorted, hoping a joke would make this all go away. “What, you got a thing for feral trash women?”

“ ‘Feral trash women?’ No, just the one.”

A circuit blew somewhere in her rational brain, because for a moment, she believed him. And it sent a dark thrill through her that slammed immediately into vicious denial.

No. No way. He’s taunting you.

“You’re full of shit.” She kicked the water, sending a shallow wave sloshing into his face. “You don’t want me. You hate me.”

His eyes fluttered shut as she splashed him. When he opened them, they were on fire.