Page 12 of Michael
“I don’tneedyour help,” I mutter.
Richard tisks. “Pride is a sin,” he purrs, gliding his firm hand around my waist. “Now, allow me to take you to your bedroom.” Each of his movements is calculated. Each sound sailing through his lips comes saturated with the purpose of conquest and control.
“I don’t want you in my bedroom,” I mumble, annoyed as fuck at how hot he is. My heart beats hard against my chest.
“Mm…” He stifles a cocky laugh. “Don’t you?”
The dizziness only worsens when I move down the hallway on my own. Pretty soon, I find myself holding the wall for balance.
“Just how much did I drink?” I mumble. And however grim the prospect of walking downanyaisle with Richard, I grab his arm and say, “Fine. You may take me. My room is…”
“Third door to the right,” he says with no inclination.
I quietly gasp. Even in my stupor, sheer black dread washes through me. This is the first time he’s set a foot in my place. How could he know?
“Yes. I know where your room is,” he adds, aware of my concerns. “Why should it shock you? I’m a demon. I’m no different from your Guardian Angel.”
I stare at him, bemused. He utters these words so casually, it’s hard for me to tell if he truly believes them.
Finally, we’re at my door. Thank goodness for that, because my feet are hurting like a motherfucker. Maybe I sprained an ankle when I fell. I don’t know. I just want to sleep this drunkenness off.
“I’ll take those off,” he casually says, kneeling before me and relieving my feet from my shoes.
He’s reading my mind.I’m too wasted to fight. I just look down at him, gently slipping off my heels like he’s my loving boyfriend. And I can’t help wondering… Maybe I’ve been wrong about him all this time. Maybe he’s learned to care for me after all these years, bound to him as I am by this curse.
Richard straightens. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says in the same stern demeanor.
As we enter the bedroom, I toss my bag onto a chair. The purse lands on the seat, but tips and falls just as fast, spilling myriad useless trinkets on the carpet—the charmed necklace amid them.
“I think I broke it,” I mumble as I sit on the bed.
He watches the pendant with silent interest. “It was in pretty bad shape to begin with,” he replies, grabbing the stone, and wrapping the necklace in his hand until finally, he slips it inside his jacket’s pocket.
Richard saunters around my room, inspecting every wall as if he’s looking for something, until I hear him say, “A-ha.”
“A-ha, what?” I utter, taking off my jacket.
“I was wondering where you’d kept it,” he adds, silently delighted.
“Keptwhat?” I let the jacket glide off the bed and land on the floor, too tired to even think of picking it up.
He stops at my dresser, and slipping both hands into his pants pockets, he watches with unquestionable pride the diamond bracelet pinned to the mirror’s frame. “Our contract,” he says in an offhanded tone, snatching the golden chain. The diamonds embedded in its infinity symbol glint as he holds it up to eye level. “The one we sealed that night, many years ago.”
My stomach churns immediately. I don’t know if it’s the memory of me falling stupidly for his charm, or if it’s the booze. “It’s my reminder never to trust you again,” I tell him.
A slight frown creases his brow as he looks back. “You mustn’t think of it that way,” he breathes, moving closer.
I stare at the fancy piece of jewelry. “Thenhowmust I think of it?”
He smirks and sits on the bed, carefully fastening the bracelet around my wrist. “Think of it asyour ticket to hell,” he says. “Looks gorgeous on you. It won’tevercome off now.”
My stomach clenches tight. I want to say something, but I’m speechless. My body aches to sleep. My eyelids drop heavily. I start to feel myself letting go.
“Now…” he adds, laying my head down as his face inches closer. And then he stops, sultry lips a breath apart from mine.
A thousand years transpire in a hot second.
Suddenly, he plucks my pillow. “Sleep tight,” he says, and painfully pulls back.
