Sleeping With The Devil

Chapter Three

The Devil's Terms

Willow’s Pov

The journey back from the estate is peaceful but stressful. I turn to look at Adrian; his face shines from the passing headlights. Lost in ideas he will never share with me, he is unreadable, his jaw set and eyes fixed straight ahead.

I start to open my mouth to talk, but his voice breaks the quiet. "Are you going to focus your whole attention on me on the way home?"

His tone is annoying, and I back off a little and press myself against the door, but I won't let him quiet me. Not tonight. "We must speak, Adrian."

His fingers clench on the wheel as he laughs humorlessly. Speaking? Rich as you come from. "You certainly have questions." Questions? More like demands, I say, startled by my boldness. His eyes stray sharply and shockingly from mine.

Sure? And what kinds of demands would that be?

I hesitate, the words strangling my throat. "I have to know... whether this marriage has any significance to you. Am I merely a pawn in your little game with my father?

Silence fills the car from Adrian. I believe he will completely ignore me at first, but he pulls over on the side of the road and cuts the engine. My pulse thumping in my ears replaces the fading hum of the engine.

"Listen especially to me, Willow." His voice is quiet and measured. "I don't enjoy games."

You lied to me nevertheless. You married me without ever sharing the truth about the layout with me. You... gave me hope that this was real. I hate that I sound so weak; my voice breaks.

"Real??" He lets out a frigid laugh. "This world, our world, does not run on trust and love. Its operations center on power and control. You understood when you married me? At least you ought to.

His coolness stings, and I turn away to gaze out the window at the blur of city lights. "I should have known, but I didn't," I say softly. "I agreed with you."

He sighed and ran his palm over his jaw. 'Believed what? Those I loved you? His voice slinks with sarcasm, and it turns the knife farther into my chest.

"Yes, I say softly. "At least you gave some thought. Still, I was mistaken.

Until he speaks once again, his voice lower, almost reluctant, the silence between us gets heavy and suffocating. "Maybe... maybe you weren't mistaken." His words are so low, I practically miss them.

"What?" I turn back to him, looking for any trace of vulnerability on his face, but he's a mask, a mystery.

"Forget it," he says, staring aside. One does what one does.

"No," I say, a flash of wrath starting in me. "You cannot say anything like that and then discount it. Adrian, you owe me the truth.

With dark and stormy eyes, he looks at me. "What is the truth?" He approaches closely, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. "I don't allow anyone to approach me closely. Not even you."

His comments strike like a punch, and I want to back off, but I can't. It draws me in; his eyes show a flutter, a brief break in his armor. Then, why did you marry me? My voice barely whispers; I beg. He responds slowly at first. Rather, his fingers linger on my cheek as he brushes a hair strand from my face. "Because I knew we couldn't afford to lose you."

His words cause my heart to rush, and for a while, I forget the wrath and the treachery. All I sense is his touch, his focused, probing glance fixed on me. But he recedes just as rapidly, his face tightening.

"Don't read too much into that, Willow," he replies icily, severing whatever brittle link we had. This is not a love story. That is a commercial arrangement.

I shudder, appalled, like I would from a pail of ice water. "Then maybe it's time to end this arrangement."

He arches an eyebrow, amused. "You think you can just walk away?"

"Maybe I could." I steel myself, looking at him with as much defiance as I can conjure. I'll figure something out.

Crossing his arms, Adrian reclines in his seat. He continues, "You're free to try," with a smile, but his tone has a caution that makes me shiver.

I turn away, concentrating on the road ahead as he starts the car once more, the stillness between us heavy with suspense. But I can see his eyes on me, evaluating and demanding even as we drive. I know this is not finished; the conflict between us is electric and dangerous. Not quite by chance. Adrian looks at me when we at last arrive at the estate. "Go indoors." Later, I'll be back.

His voice commands me to boil, but I bite my tongue and leave the car silent. I sense his eyes on me as I ascend the stone steps, observing, possessive, like a predator following its prey.

I'm left in the dark, empty foyer as the door closes behind me with a hard thump. The silence is stifling, and I get an odd sensation as though I am under observation. I dismiss it and continue upstairs, but the feeling just gets more intense.

I hear a little creak behind me as I ascend the steps. My heart thumping, I froze. Hello? Though there is no reaction, my voice resounds in the empty room. I inhale shakily, my skin prickling as I survey.

I spy something—a shadow darting along the corridor, gone in an instant—just as I get to my bedroom. My pulse speeds up, and I turn back inside the room, shutting the door behind me. Parking it.

My head runs. Is my imagination playing here? Or is someone else here?

I lean against the door, trying to control my breathing, but the nagging sensation persists. The idea that someone is observing and that I am not alone keeps me from relaxing.

I will try to relax by inhaling deeply. I tell myself it's only nervousness; the tension with Adrian still affects me. But I can't get rid of the sensation of eyes on me, invisible and lurking in the shadows as I curl into bed, dragging the blankets up to my chin.

And just as my eyelids start to close, the door knocks softly but ominously.

My heart pauses as the knock echoes in the quiet.