Page 10 of Devil Wears Nada
“Worth every penny,” he declared, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Consider it research and development for your new collection—‘Fallen,’ inspired by a prince of Hell and his mortal consort.”
“You’re incorrigible,” I said, but I was smiling as I reached for tissues to clean us up.
“It’s my most charming quality,” he agreed, making no move to help with the cleanup. “Well, that and my supernatural sexual prowess.”
I snorted. “You’re pretty good for a being who didn’t even know what a prostate was a week ago.”
He looked offended. “I’m a quick study! And besides, mortal bodies are fascinating. So many interesting buttons to push.” He sat up, looking around at the devastation of broken glass. “Though we really should work on my control issues. Your homeowner’s insurance must be getting suspicious.”
“I told them I have a poltergeist,” I admitted, pulling my pants back on. “It was easier than explaining I’m sleeping with the demon prince of Vanity who breaks glass when he comes.”
Van laughed, the sound like music. “Creative! I knew I chose wisely when I landed in front of your car.” He hopped off the cutting table and stretched again, utterly unselfconscious in his nudity. “Now, about my wardrobe. I’m thinking something inemerald green to start. It will make my eyes pop when they shift to blue.”
And just like that, we were back to business. I shook my head, watching as he picked up a sketch pad and began drawing what looked like a cape with an excessive collar.
“No capes,” I said firmly.
“But they’re so dramatic!” he protested. “How else will mortals know I’m important?”
“Trust me, no one who sees you has any doubt about that.”
He preened at the compliment, then suddenly grew serious. “Lucas,” he said, my name sounding different in his mouth than it ever had before. “You are creating something beautiful for me, aren’t you? Something worthy?”
The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard. “Of course I am,” I said softly. “The most beautiful garments I’ve ever made.”
His smile then was different from his usual smirk—smaller, more genuine, almost shy. “Good. Because I may be the prince of Vanity, but even I know when I’ve found someone whose talent honors my true nature.”
Before I could respond to this unexpectedly sweet statement, he was back to his usual self. “Now, about these sketches. They’re adequate, but if we’re going to make mortals weep with desire, we need to be bolder. Think less ‘fashion week’ and more ‘second coming.’ I’m thinking shoulder details that could put an eye out…”
As he rambled on about his fashion vision, I found myself smiling. Demon prince or not, I was starting to suspect Van might be the muse I’d been waiting for all along.
Chapter 5
“I’m not going.” Van stood in the doorway of my bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, looking like a petulant deity denied worship. “The invitation specifically says ‘cocktail attire’ which is pedestrian at best. If I can’t make an entrance worthy of my station, I’d rather not attend at all.”
I continued adjusting my tie in the mirror (the only one in the apartment that hadn’t been replaced at least twice). “It’s the biggest industry event of the season, and Mrs. Hemsworth specifically requested that ‘your delightful European assistant’ accompany you.”
“I’m not European, I’m infernal,” he huffed. “And I’m not your assistant, I’m—”
“A prince, yes, I know.” I turned to face him, and my irritation melted away instantly.
He looked stunning. After a month of cohabitation, I’d finally completed several pieces for him, including the outfit he wore now: slim black trousers that hugged his supernatural legs, and a green silk shirt with subtle iridescent threading that shifted colors like his eyes. The collar opened into a deep V, showing off his perfect collarbones and the smooth expanse of his chest.
“You look incredible,” I said honestly.
His pout softened slightly. “Of course I do. Your creation is worthy of me, which is the highest compliment I can bestow.”
I crossed the room to stand before him, reaching up to adjust his collar. “The LA Fashion Forum only happens once a year. Every designer, buyer, and influencer in the city will be there. If you want to help my business grow, this is the place to do it.”
Van sighed dramatically, but I could see him weakening. “Fine. But I refuse to make small talk with mortals about the weather or their dreary little lives.”
“Just talk about their clothes,” I suggested, smoothing a hand down his silk-covered chest. “You’re remarkably good at making people feel simultaneously flattered and inadequate.”
“It’s a gift,” he agreed, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips. The gesture was unexpectedly tender, and something fluttered in my chest. “You know,” he murmured against my fingers, “we could skip the event entirely. Stay here. I could model all my new garments for you… and then let you remove them one by one.”
For a moment I was tempted. In the month since Van had literally fallen into my life, we’d established a routine that was dangerously close to domestic bliss. Days spent working side by side in my studio—me designing and sewing, Van providing increasingly valuable input and charming clients. Nights spent exploring every possible configuration of our bodies, gradually reducing the property damage as Van gained more control of his powers.
“Nice try,” I said, pulling my hand away reluctantly. “But this event is important. Besides, you’ve been complaining about being cooped up in the apartment.”
