Page 25 of Deal With The Devil


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I definitely remember him. His intensity, the grace with which he moved, and his astoundingly good looks. When I laid eyes on him tonight, I remembered his name.I’m not the crazy one, I try to remind myself.

Burn gives me a smirk, stopping dead in front of me. He looks me over, assessing me. I don’t think I come up as very highly valued, but I’m still trying to put Burn together with this whole lavish estate. The two don’t seem to intrinsically fit.

He makes the gesture, flicking his hand. "Fine. You got me. I was very drunk when we met. I was on a lot of mushrooms, too. So I don’t remember ever meeting you, although you are telling me that we know each other. I’m assuming that we fucked, though?"

I swallow, my eyes going wide. Hearing him say that is somehow dirtier than the vivid imagery that runs through my mind.

"Well… I had a lot to drink too."

Burn zooms in, lurching toward me, and grabs my arm hard. I struggle against him, trying to buck his touch. But it’s no use.

He snarls through his teeth. "You’re going to tell me right now if we fucked or not. So did we?"

He insists with a little shake of my arm, causing me to wonder whether or not I should just wait for a moment when his back is turned and then run. He gets his face close to mine, practically oozing anger at me that I don’t understand.

Why would he be angry at me?

"Yes!" I practically shout at him. "Now let me go, please! You’re scaring me."

With another snarl, he lets go of me. I start to move, perhaps indicating that I am about to flee. But he throws up his hands, holding them wide.

"Hold on. Don’t run away from me."

I don’t look at him. Instead I keep my eyes trained on the gap between the hedges, licking my lips.

"Talia," he says, his tone quieter. "That’s your name, right?"

The sound of my name on his lips is more appealing than I thought it could be. Pausing, I dart a glance at his face.

I toss my hair and jut my chin out. "Yeah?"

"I can listen to your complaints and pass them on to Remy himself. My grandfather doesn’t meet many strangers. But for me, he’ll listen." He pauses, his eyes narrowing. "But you would have to tell me exactly what happened the night we fucked. And I mean that I want details. I want to know where it happened, when it happened, and exactly what I said."

A sick feeling washes through me. There’s something wrong here, I can tell. Something is definitely not right. But I’ll be damned if I know what it is.

"So you’ll plead my case for me? You’ll tell your grandfather that he owes me for the books he already ordered and make him cut me a break on the mortgage?"

Burn seems as though he is barely listening. I feel like I’m a ghost somehow, here, in front of him. I reach out and grab his arm, giving him a tiny shake. "Burn?"

He pushes me off, stepping backward. He still looks angry, but when he speaks, his tone of voice is very blasé. "Listen, I know that you’re only talking to me because you need something from me. I get it, okay? What I need to know is that you will give me the details. Preferably right now."

My mouth pulls to the side. "There’s something off about you and your requests. I can’t figure out what is bothering me about it so much."

"Do we have a deal, though?"

I size him up, indecisive. "Maybe. You just need to know the details, I can probably tell you that, although I have to say that it’s very weird being asked for this kind of thing."

He sneers at me. Before he can say anything, I hold up a hand.

"I’ll do it for you if you can get me an audience with Remy Morgan."

Burn actually laughs in surprise. "No. No way. There is absolutely no way in hell that he will agree to meet you.”

I cross my arms and give him a tiny glare. "I thought that you had a good relationship with him."

"You inferred that incorrectly. Remy Morgan has a good relationship with his money. That’s about the end of that story right there."

My lips bunch up.

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