Betting on Julia (A Melville Sisters Novel) (Entangled Covet) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Julia rammed the key in the lock, shoved open the door, and raced for the bathroom.

Making it just in time, she heaved into the toilet, keeping her eyes clamped shut. She had no wish to be reminded of the contents of her stomach. She flushed, backed away, changed her mind, and heaved again.

Her life sucked. Big-time.

She was never sick. Up until six months ago, she hadn’t taken a day off work in her life, never thrown up, never even broken a fingernail. Now, she stared at her hands in disgust. No girlie pink nail varnish for her these days, no perfect manicure. What wasn’t broken was bitten. And—Jesus—was that blood embedded around her cuticle?

She swallowed, determined not to throw up again. She’d read somewhere that too much vomiting could dissolve your teeth. And she needed her teeth for…

No, what she did with her teeth was something else she didn’t want to dwell on too closely.

Raising her head from the contemplation of her fingers, she met her own stare in the mirror. The weird thing was, she still looked the same. There was no outward sign that her life had turned to complete and utter crap.

She still appeared…cute, perky…
sweet
.

The only thing giving any hint that all might be not as it seemed was the bramble tangled in her blond curls. Evidence that she had woken up that morning deep in the forest, naked and with her head in a bramble bush. Oh and not forgetting the bloody remains of something fluffy littering the grass around her.

She tugged the twigs free and tossed them in the bin, then sniffed and scowled. The rank stench of sweat and the faint hint of muskiness she’d come to associate with this time of the month rose up from her body.

She needed hot water and lots of it.

In the shower, she ran the water until it almost scalded the skin from her body. After rubbing her fingers raw with her nailbrush, she shampooed twice and then again for good measure. Finally, she turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping a pink towel around her head and drying herself with another. She sprayed her favorite perfume, Chanel N°5, all over, pulled on a silky pink robe, and let out a sigh.

Coffee and she might begin to feel human again.

Well, at least until the next time. But for now, she could shove that part of her life out of her head and pretend. She was good at pretending.

Her phone rang as she was turning on the coffeemaker. Even without checking the caller ID, she was quite aware of who it would be.

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

“Of course you’re not fine, you’re a—”

“Don’t say it,” she interrupted. “In fact, don’t even think it. I’m clean, I smell nice, and I am deep in denial. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“You can’t ignore it. Daniel says—”

“Hey,” she interrupted again. “You’re getting really boring, did you know that?” She’d heard way too much about what Daniel said, what he thought. These days he was all Lissa ever spoke about. Daniel this, Daniel that. “Whose best friend are you anyway?”

“Yours, Jules, but I’m Daniel’s wife and he’s your brother and he feels responsible for you.”

“All I want to know from Daniel is—has he found a cure?”

“You know he’d tell you if he had. He feels really guilty about this, as though it’s his fault.”

“It
is
his fault.”

“No, it’s not. But he also says that if you would accept it, go with the flow, then you might even enjoy yourself.”

She gritted her teeth, and her hand tightened on the phone until the plastic cracked. “Really? He says that does he? I’m a goddamned vegetarian, and I just threw up the remains of fluffy-bunny and God knows what else. And I just squeezed my phone to death. And worst of all—I have no fingernails.”

“You ate a rabbit?”

“Well, actually not a whole one. There were…bits left.”

“Ugh!”

“Exactly. And there was blood—” She slammed a hand over her mouth to hold back another heave at the disgusting memory.

“I’ll take you for a manicure this afternoon,” Lissa said.

Dropping her hand, she muttered, “Don’t try and soothe me. I don’t want to be soothed.”

“Of course you do. A nice pale pink manicure.”

Hmm. Maybe she did want to be soothed after all. “And a pedicure?”

“Of course. Daniel can pay.”

“Well, he is loaded and this
is
his fault.”

She tucked the phone against her ear and fixed herself a mug of coffee while her friend chattered on about the healing properties of a good nail job. After the first sip, she let out a huge sigh. She had a month, a whole month to be normal. She was going to make the most of it. “Okay, you can pick me up at one, and we can go and have cocktails afterward—pink, frothy ones with umbrellas and sparklers.”

“You’re on,” her friend was quick to reply.

Down the hall, the doorbell sounded unusually loud.

“What was that?” Lissa asked.

“Doorbell. I’m ignoring it. I don’t have any clothes on and nobody I know would dream of interrupting me this early in the morning.”

“Postman?”

“It’s Sunday.”

“Hello?” a masculine voice called down the hall. It sounded distinctly like he was in the house. A stranger’s voice…

Her heart rate immediately kicked into high gear. She glanced around the kitchen for a handy weapon, her gaze settling on a spatula in the drain rack. No knife nearby, of course. Fuck, her luck was the worst. Then she remembered—she didn’t actually need a weapon.

“Stay on the line,” she said to Lissa. “There’s someone here.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to see who it is and, if they’re a problem, I’ll probably rip their throat out.”

“Sounds like good therapy. Go for it.”

She glanced around the corner. The hallway was empty, and the front door was open, her keys still in the lock. But that wasn’t what caught her attention.

The most stunning guy she had ever seen stood on her doorstep.

“Holy freaking moly.”

“What is it?” Lissa asked, her voice impatient. She was probably imagining danger and mayhem. And she wouldn’t be far off. This guy had destruction to the female equilibrium stamped all over him.

“Hottie alert,” she whispered into the phone. “Gotta go, Lissa. See you at one.” She ended the call.

“Hi,” he said in a smooth, smoky voice that sent a shiver over her skin.

She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Hi.”

Although she was about two feet away from the door, she didn’t step closer, because then she would have had to crick her neck to peer up at him. Damn, he was tall.

At least a foot taller than her five feet two, probably more, he had a long, lean body, dressed in faded jeans that clung to his long legs and narrow hips, and a pale pink shirt that would have looked girlie on any other guy, but somehow managed to enhance his masculinity. His hair was thick and black and short, and his face was all hard angles. And he had the greenest eyes she had ever seen, coupled with a dream of a smile aimed right at her.

And she was wearing a pink, slinky robe that finished inches above her knees and a towel wrapped around her head.

Great.

She almost backed away—maybe distance would blur her horrendous getup—but she couldn’t move. Her legs refused to take her away from this perfect vision. Smart legs.

“I wondered if I could borrow some milk?”

“Milk?”

“I’ve just moved in next door. I woke early and I needed coffee, but no milk. I was heading out to find a shop, but I noticed your front door was open.”

“It was?” Obviously, in her mad dash to reach the toilet, she hadn’t taken the time to close the door behind her. But she wasn’t going to think of that again and instead latched onto his warm gaze.

Her new neighbor was inspecting her, his eyes lighting up even more as he took in her small figure. Most men found her attractive, but she’d always been especially appealing to the tall ones. One ex-boyfriend had told her she made him feel protective. Not long after, he’d gone on to say that he’d never met anyone less in need of protection in his life. He’d taken himself elsewhere in search of a girl who might actually appreciate being treated like an idiot. And that was before Julia’s recent change in circumstances…

But she wasn’t above playing on the attraction. Mind you, it wasn’t easy looking cute with your head wrapped in a towel. She fluttered her eyelashes a little.

“Yes—wide open.” He smiled again. “So could you take pity on a new neighbor and lend me some milk?”

There was that little shiver again.

She couldn’t remember anyone having this impact on her. Not even Lissa’s brother Jason, who she’d very nearly started going out with until the
incident
had put a stop to anything like that between them.

She’d actually taken a vow of celibacy until her little problem was sorted. Which was hard because she’d never felt so aware of her body as she had since the…
incident
. She must think of another name for it. Catastrophe? Mega-disaster? No way could she get into a relationship right now.

She glanced up from her contemplation of her bare toes to the guy in the doorway. Christ, the poor man had only come to borrow some milk and she already had him in a relationship.

Anyway, a man like him was probably going out with some tall, skinny supermodel, or was married with adorable little children. At the thought of children, a pain stabbed her in the middle.

Get a grip.

Milk.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes?”

“I have milk. Just wait there.”

Julia whirled around and hurried back to the kitchen. There was a mirror on the wall, and she gave herself a quick glance. Not good. Would he wait while she blow-dried her hair? Unlikely. She pulled a face at her image, then shrugged.
No sex and no relationships—remember?

After getting a carton of milk from the fridge, she took it to him. He was exactly where she’d left him, leaning against the doorframe. The hallway was cold; she couldn’t believe the front door had been wide open all the time she’d been in the shower.

He straightened as he saw her, and a slow smile curled his lips. He had a nice smile, nice enough to melt the insides of the most committed relationship-phobe.

She stopped a foot away and held the milk out at arm’s length. She couldn’t trust herself to move any closer. Of course, he had no such inhibitions. He just stepped right on into her space, and she honest to God nearly swooned as the heat from his body brushed against her hypersensitive skin.

Quite unable to stop her traitorous eyes from checking out his naked ring finger as he reached for the milk, Julia knew she was screwed.

…

“Thank you.”

As Sebastian grasped the carton, their fingers touched. She flinched and drew back quickly as though he’d burned her. A jolt ran up his arm. He’d planned on asking her out, or asking himself in, moving this forward, but the sensation shocked him. It was imperative he stay focused. But the whole meeting had tipped him off balance.

Julia Melville was exactly what Dante had claimed: a good woman. Sebastian hadn’t been expecting that. He’d actually forgotten good people really existed, but Julia gave off a tangible vibe of sweetness.

And she was so small. With real goddamned dimples and huge blue eyes. She looked like an angel, but she couldn’t be all perfect.

He’d researched her. She was a successful journalist, so she must have a little bit of a ruthless streak somewhere. She came from a big family, three sisters, and one brother. Her best friend had married the brother a few months ago. She was a vegetarian and her favorite color was pink. Hence his shirt.

She’d had a lot of boyfriends in the past, but none who seemed to stick—maybe she wasn’t ready to settle down—but there was no one in her life right now.

And everyone liked her.

And he meant to make her fall in love with him and then…

Then he would walk away and break her heart. But she’d mend; humans were incredibly resilient. And he’d be free and Dante would be back in the Abyss where he belonged.

And that had to be done, because each year Dante grew stronger. One day he would have the power to snap the bonds that tethered him to Sebastian. And there was no end to the lives he would destroy if he ever gained his freedom on Earth. Sebastian needed to remember that. This was no time to develop scruples. He had to see it through.

He’d turned to go, but he swung back and held out his free hand. “I’m Sebastian. Sebastian Crane.”

She tightened the belt of her robe and shuffled closer, eyeing the outstretched hand as though it might suddenly wrap itself around her throat and squeeze.

“I don’t bite,” he teased.

Something flashed in her eyes and was gone. She slid her much-smaller palm against his and there was that little shiver of sensation again. Ignoring it, his fingers tightened around hers. Her hand was hot, and he couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like wrapped around other places. Like his…

He shook his head and tugged free, only narrowly resisting rubbing his palm down his jeans. He needed to focus here.

“And you are?” he asked.

“I’m Julia. Julia Melville.”

“Hello, Julia.”

She tightened the robe a little bit more. Was she naked under there? All soft pink-and-white skin. He was guessing so. The robe revealed most of her legs, and her feet were bare, her toes curling into the carpet. The material clung to her breasts, outlining the full shape, the nipples pressed against the fabric. Yeah, she was naked, and his cock twitched in his jeans.

What the hell was going on?

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hunched over a little and forced a smile. “I’m new in town. I don’t know anyone yet. Maybe you could take pity on me, let me buy you a meal, and you can show me around.”

Actually, the only place he wanted her to show him was her bedroom. Shit, maybe he needed to get out of there and rethink his plan.

She shifted from foot to foot, appearing a little uncertain, which was sort of endearing. For a second, she looked like she was going to say yes. Her gaze searched his face, and he was pretty sure she liked what she saw. Then she seemed to give herself a little shake and resolve hardened her eyes “No,” she said.