Betting on Julia (A Melville Sisters Novel) (Entangled Covet) (4 page)

He let himself into the house next door and dropped the case on the floor in the hallway. He’d spent the day back at his penthouse, working on a job. He had various contacts in the supernatural world, many of them thanks to Dante, and he was often approached to use his particular talents—mainly finding things or people. He was good at it, and his time did not come cheap. The magic had exhausted him, but a cold shower had brought him around, and now he was ready to try again with Julia.

Just friends. That was the way he should approach it. Go around there and apologize for yesterday. Maybe he could be recovering from a relationship and trying to mend his broken heart. He wasn’t ready for dating, just wanted to be friends, and he was worried he’d come on too strong. Could he say she wasn’t his type? Would that work in his favor or against him?

He was really out of practice.

At least Dante had been quiet for the last twenty-four hours and a quick peek inside showed he wasn’t awake.

He could go weeks without the demon showing his face, though those times were getting shorter. Another sign the demon was gaining strength. Sebastian had done some research into possession and the possessed was almost invariably devoured by the demon in the end, their mind breaking and the demon moving on to someone new. Sebastian couldn’t allow that to happen.

He checked his appearance in the mirror. His shoulder-length hair had been cut shorter prior to his first meet with Julia, though it was still long enough to flop over his forehead. He wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses—a new addition but one he thought added to the “nice guy” image. He tried a smile. It looked a little forced but would do. He sure as fuck hoped it got easier with practice.

How long was this going to take?

Love at first sight would have been good, but obviously, that hadn’t happened. Part of him rose to the challenge. Unfortunately, that particular part had no right rising at this point in the proceedings.

The women he’d been mixing with lately had been many things but never a challenge, and a strange sense of anticipation awoke inside him as he considered the contest ahead. It made him feel almost guilty; he was doing this because he had to. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it.

He headed back to the door, getting his story straight in his head, as the bell rang. He only knew one person around here and that was Julia. Why would she be at his door, when she’d made it clear yesterday that she didn’t want to see him?

Time to find out.

She wore skintight jeans tucked into knee-length boots with four-inch heels, but she was still nearly a foot shorter than him. Her legs were slender and her waist tiny. On top, she wore a pink fluffy sweater, tight over the curves of her breasts, and she had a bottle of red wine clutched in her hand. Her bright blond hair was a riot of curls around her face, and her big blue eyes were staring up at him.

“I wanted to apologize for not welcoming you better yesterday.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling myself. I’d had an argument with my…
friend
and a rough night. And you caught me looking less than my best and that always makes me cranky.” She held out the hand with the bottle. Her nails had been short yesterday; today they were long and perfect and pink to match her sweater. “So I brought a bottle to say welcome to the neighborhood.”

Christ, she looked sexy. With any other woman, he would have dragged her inside and shown her exactly what sort of welcome he was hankering after, but with Julia…

Should he push his luck? Was he thinking with his dick again? He raked a hand through his hair, took the wine from her, and gestured to the hall behind him. “Why don’t you come in and share it with me. And we can start over.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.” She blinked up at him, and he couldn’t stop one corner of his mouth from tilting up in response.

“Excellent news.” He turned to walk down the hall, and she followed.

Sebastian led her into the living room. He’d rented the place fully furnished and had no clue where anything was yet, so he put the bottle down and opened cabinets and drawers until he found one containing glasses and a corkscrew. He pulled them out and opened the wine.

“Did you rent the place from Mrs. Penbury?” she asked.

Had he? He couldn’t remember. He’d offered the woman an exorbitant amount of money to move out for a while, added a hint of a compulsion spell, and she’d obliged. “I’m not sure actually. The company I work for organized the accommodation.”

“So you don’t come from London?”

“I come from up north,” he said, handing her a glass of wine. “But I needed to get away fast and the offer of a transfer came up, so I jumped at it.”

“What do you do, Sebastian?”

“Call me Bastian.” He shoved his glasses more firmly on his nose. “I’m an accountant.”

She gave him a bright smile. “That sounds…”

“Boring?” he supplied. Had he taken the whole “nice” thing too far?

“I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say normal. Normal is good. I like normal.”

She sounded too emphatic. She must have realized it because she gave a rueful smile and raised her glass. “Welcome to London. I hope you’ll soon feel at home here.”

He’d actually lived in London on or off for two hundred years. “Off” when it became obvious he wasn’t aging and people became suspicious. When that happened, he’d take himself away for a while, then come back with a new identity and start again. But he always came back. He loved the city.

“I’m sure I will. I was actually on my way over to see you when you appeared on the doorstep.”

“You were?” She gave another smile, and his gut twisted. She was so damn perfect.

“Umm, I wanted to apologize for giving the wrong impression yesterday,” he explained.

Her arched brows drew together. She really had the most expressive eyes. “You did?”

He took a sip of wine and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “I came on a little strong, but really, I’m not looking for anything like that at the moment.”

“You’re not?”

“I recently broke up from a long-term relationship—I wanted to settle down; she didn’t.” Was he oversharing? God, did he sound like a chick? Probably, but all he could see in her face was sympathy. She was really, genuinely, sweet. There was that stab of guilt again. He ignored it and pushed on. “She broke it off, and I came here. But I’m not in the market for another relationship right now.”

“You want her back?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what I want. But I’m not ready to start something new. You needn’t worry I’ll come between you and your girlfriend.”

She pulled a face and took a large gulp of wine. “You won’t. You can’t. We’re over. That’s what we were arguing about the other night. She phoned yesterday and said she was leaving me for someone else. This six-foot woman with a crew cut and more muscles than you have.”

Bastian somehow doubted that, but he couldn’t stop the thundering of his heart. She was available. And he wanted her. Bad. “So we can cheer each other up.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to being good friends.”

Something flashed across her face but was gone before he could identify it. She raised her own glass and clinked it against his. “Just good friends.”

So far, so good.

Okay, that was phase one out of the way.

On to phase two, where hopefully, Julia would quickly realize that she wanted far more than friendship between the two of them.

Chapter Four

Bastian placed his glass on the table and waved toward the god-awful cream-and-blue flowered sofa. “Why don’t you take a seat?” As she sat down, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it on the chair behind him. He loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, dangled it from his fingers for a moment. An image flashed in his mind of Julia Melville sprawled on the big brass bed upstairs, her wrists tied above her head with his tie, while he…

He jolted out of the daydream to find her watching him, her lips pursed. He tossed the tie on top of the jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and came across to stand over her. She was staring, which was good.

“More wine?”

She swallowed the rest of her wine in one gulp and held out her glass. After topping off both, he sank down on the sofa beside her, leaving a good foot between them. All the same, she inched away a little more until she could go no farther, before turning to study him, a slightly calculating expression in her eyes.

“So you’re looking to settle down?”

Hmmm, what was the right answer to that one? “No. Definitely not anymore. I’d just like to meet some nice people, make some friends, and concentrate on my career.”

She took another gulp of wine. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a journalist. For a woman’s magazine.”

Hmm, probably wrote about makeup and clothes. That would go with her image.

“What was her name?” Julia asked. “Your girlfriend, I mean.”

Shit. He hadn’t thought of that one. He grasped around. “Melanie. Her name was Melanie.”

“Sweet name.”

“She was. Sweet, I mean.” An image flashed up in his mind of a naked Melanie chained to his bedroom wall, complete with ruby nipple rings and a tattoo of “Eat Me” scrawled across her flat stomach. He couldn’t fight the grin stretching his face at the irony of ever calling
her
sweet.

“Aw,” Julia said softly. “You’re smiling—you obviously still like her. So why did you break up?”

Shit. Why the hell did they split up? Why would someone leave an accountant? Boring sex immediately came to mind. “Well, I imagined we’d spend the rest of our lives together. But it turned out an accountant wasn’t exciting enough for her.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that what she said?”

“Not in so many words. But she said marriage was for boring people. And she wanted to try things. Things I wasn’t comfortable with.” He cringed on the inside. While he could totally see a bean counter running a mile when faced with Melanie’s preferences, that didn’t keep him from feeling like he’d just handed in his man card.

Julia’s eyes widened even farther, and he wondered if he’d gone too far. Maybe you didn’t talk about such things with your friends. Especially not your platonic girlfriends. Hell, how was he supposed to know?

“Hey, I’m just a normal guy. Maybe that is boring, but it’s the way I am.”

Obviously the right words because her full lips curved into a smile. She put down her glass and edged closer, rested a hand on his arm below where his shirtsleeves were rolled up. At the touch of her against his skin, a tingle ran through him, followed by a shiver of apprehension as it occurred to him that what Dante really wanted was for him to fuck the “good” out of Julia. And that Sebastian would love doing it.

…

Julia resisted the urge to rub her palm against her jeans. It felt as though she’d had an electric shock. Static? Or
Thing
waking? The former, she hoped.

Searching for something to say, she only just resisted the urge to ask for juicy details. That image flashed in her mind of the two of them going at it doggy fashion—but that was hardly kinky. What had Melanie wanted him to do?

Sex toys, group stuff…bondage. But who got to tie who up? Maybe Melanie had wanted to tie him up and whip him. She cast him a sideways glance. He was so big. What would it feel like to have all that under your control? Yours to do with as you wanted. Powerless to resist.

She wriggled on her seat and then jumped as he cleared his throat. Crap, she’d offered to be this guy’s friend and here she was only minutes later fantasizing about getting him in compromising situations involving him being chained up and at her mercy. Situations he clearly wasn’t comfortable with. Pity. “Melanie obviously wasn’t sweet at all.” She thought for a moment. “How long ago was this split up?”

“Three months.”

“And there’s been no one?”

I haven’t…” He glanced away. “I haven’t even felt like that since Melanie.” He grinned ruefully. “Not even a twitch.”

That was good news, because if there was one thing Julia found hard to resist, it was a challenge. As a distraction, he was perfect. And he wasn’t looking for commitment. Even more perfect.

She studied him surreptitiously. He had to be the most beautiful guy she had ever seen. How had Melanie ever let him go? Could he really be that boring in bed? Maybe all he needed was a good teacher.

She reckoned she could just stare at him and come if she thought hard enough. Especially if he was naked and chained to the wall.

Those eyes were mesmerizing. Dark green and if she leaned closer, she could make out little gold flecks and black rings around the iris.

“You have the most amazing eyes,” she murmured without thinking.

His eyebrows rose. He didn’t say anything, but he reached up and took off his glasses and tossed them on the table.

“From my father,” he said. “Or so my mother told me.”

“You didn’t know him. That’s so sad.”

“No. He disappeared before I was born, but apparently, he was blond with green eyes. I got his eyes but the rest was from my mother—she’s Spanish.”

That accounted for the dusky gold skin and the midnight-dark hair. “Does she live in Spain?”

“No, she’s dead.”

Poor man. He didn’t know his father, his mother was dead, and his girlfriend had dumped him. Obviously, all he’d wanted was a nice, normal family life and the bitch had told him he wasn’t exciting enough. Julia had always been secure in her big family. She couldn’t imagine not having that support, not knowing there were people who would look out for her whatever she did. Just because she belonged.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

He’d relaxed back in his seat and was returning her scrutiny, but his eyes were shadowed. She scooted around on the seat and inched a little closer. Breathing in, she scented a subtle sweetness tinged with spice. Not an aftershave she recognized—it was unique. All mixed with a musky male scent that made her stomach quiver.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She was going to scare him off if she wasn’t careful.

Friends, remember?

And then he smiled. Electricity hummed under her skin and she couldn’t resist one quick touch. She reached out and stroked her hand down his cheek, along his jawline. The skin was rough with growth. Her fingertips met the smooth curve of his lower lip and she snatched her hand back, then peeked at him from under her lashes.

A dull flush formed along his cheekbones, and he shifted in his seat.

Maybe he wasn’t entirely unaffected. This was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her problems—a project. Give Bastian his confidence back.

After all, neither of them was looking for commitment. Just a little harmless fun.

Her hand came up again, and she cupped his cheek, slid her palm around the back of his neck, and gave a little tug.

At first, he resisted, and then he slowly lowered his head to hers. She hadn’t intended to move this fast, but something drove her on. His mouth was soft but firm and his lips stayed closed.

He drew back slightly, a frown forming between his eyes. “You feel sorry for me. I get that.”

“No. You’re a good-looking guy.” And that was the understatement of the century…probably the millennium. “And I haven’t kissed a man in a while, and I was curious and…and I’m babbling.”

She never babbled. Usually, nothing fazed her. But something about Bastian made her on edge. Made her crave the taste of his tongue, yearn to know what he felt like deep inside her. Jesus, where were these thoughts coming from? She always let the man take the lead. It made her feel less guilty when she dumped them as she invariably did.

Her hand was still at the back of his neck, and she slipped it into the silky hair at his nape. His lashes fluttered closed.

“That’s what I miss. Not the sex, just the touching,” he murmured.

She rested her other hand on his chest, and beneath her palm his heart thudded a rapid beat. She pulled him against her and kissed him again.

This time his mouth opened against hers and somehow, he was in charge. His tongue thrust like hot, wet velvet into her mouth, filling her with the spicy taste of him. At the same time, he grasped her shoulders and turned her so she lay back against the cushions, all without breaking the kiss. Her tongue was pushing against his, sliding into his mouth, rubbing against the sharpness of his teeth.

A hunger awoke inside her she hadn’t known existed and suddenly they were pressed together, the hard length of him scalding hot against her. A pulse frantically beat between her thighs, breasts swelling against the lace of her bra, until everything felt tight, constricted. She needed out of her clothes. Right now.

She needed his naked flesh against her more than she needed her next breath.

She recognized the hard jut of an erection pressing into her, and she rubbed against it instinctively. He went utterly still and a low growl sounded in his throat.

And deep inside her mind,
Thing
woke and answered.

Julia’s eyes flashed open. Panic flared, and she flattened her hands against his chest and pushed.

“Bastian. Back off.” Her tone was tinged with panic, but sharp claws were scrabbling at her belly, raking her flesh. He must have recognized it, because he eased away, his hands coming up in front of him as though to ward her off. And who could blame him.

She’d nearly assaulted the poor man. The man who’d only seconds earlier told her he wasn’t interested in sex and just wanted to be friends.

He pushed himself to his feet and adjusted his pants, where the bulge of what appeared to be a truly impressive erection pressed at his fly.
Thing
growled again, and Julia forced her gaze away. Clamping her eyes closed, she ran a calming mantra through her mind. Daniel had taught it to her as a way to keep
Thing
quiet on the day of the full moon.

But the full moon was past, so what was going on?

“God, Julia, I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes flashed open. Bastian was pacing the room but came back to stare down at her, his gaze fixed on her middle. She peeked down. Somehow, her lovely fluffy pink sweater had ridden up, exposing vast amounts of skin. Her nipples were poking visibly through the material.

She forced herself to sit up. No big deal. Just a kiss. And
Thing
waking up. When
Thing
had no right to be awake.

Julia shook her head.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Of course. It was only a kiss, and it was my fault. I kissed you, and right after you told me you weren’t interested in sex. I guess I can’t resist a challenge. You’re lucky I came to my senses and didn’t take total advantage of you.” She was babbling again, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stop anything else falling out.

He handed her a glass of wine. After draining it in one go, she jumped to her feet. “Well, like I said, welcome to the neighborhood.”

He frowned. “Does this mean we can’t be friends?”

“Of course not. Of course we can be friends.” She searched her mind for something that friends did that didn’t involve getting sweaty and naked and… A crowd was what she needed. Somewhere with lots of people. “How about a movie? You can pick what we go and see.”

He nodded slowly, and she was pretty sure that was relief on his face.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Good.” She put down her glass and rubbed her hands down the side of her jeans. “Now I’d better leave you to get on with…whatever you’re doing this evening. I really have to…”
Go take a cold shower
.

He led the way into the hall and opened the front door for her. She risked a quick peek into his face as she passed, and then couldn’t resist dropping her gaze to his groin. Yeah, that huge erection was still there and all the muscles in her stomach contracted.

What a waste.

When she glanced up, his lips twitched. “Well, at least I know it still works. Don’t worry. It’s no big deal. Thanks for the wine, and I’ll get the tickets. Wednesday night okay?”

She nodded but didn’t trust herself to say anything intelligent and so turned and walked out. He watched her all the way to her own front door. She fumbled with the lock, finally stumbled into her hall, and slammed the door.

“Holy freaking crap.”

…

Shit, his dick was about to burst out of his pants.

You want to do something about that?

The words sounded in his head.

Dante was awake. He’d been quiet since Bastian had accepted the wager. He supposed it was too good to last.

“Stay out of my mind,” he muttered.

I wish I could…really. But for the moment, we’re stuck with each other.

“Well, keep quiet.” But at least his erection subsided.

You know the wager was—she has to say I love you. “Pity sex” doesn’t count.

“Pity sex?”

She felt sorry for you. She might shag you for that, but she’ll never fall in love with an object of pity.

Bastian didn’t agree. He reckoned he’d found the key to unlocking her heart. He went back to the sitting room and pulled a bottle of scotch from the cabinet. He didn’t bother with a glass, just unscrewed the cap, took a gulp, then flung himself on the sofa, the bottle still clasped in his hand.

Yup, he reckoned it was official. Julia Melville was a good woman. She was also light and frivolous and hopefully shallow, though that might be wishful thinking on his part. He would make her fall in love with him and right after she said the all-important “I love you,” he would walk out of her life. Because he wasn’t a good man. And afterward, she would move on to the next man…or woman.