The Demon King’s Bride by Skye Wilson
Bea
“Are you ready to get out of here?” Don whispered at me as he returned to my side.
I let out an exhausted sigh and nodded. Joan, Ava and I had hit the dance floor hard in his absence. The only thing about me that wasn’t aching and tired right now was my feet—and I had Don himself to thank for that. “Thought you’d never ask.”
We left the wedding reception quietly. The night was dark, the guests were happy, and the band was playing our getaway song.
All things considered, it had been a much better night than I’d expected.
I hadn’t expected much from my wedding to begin with.
But I never could have expected this.
For so many moments tonight, I’d almost forgotten that Don wasn’t really my husband.
And yet, at the same time, he very much was.
“You look tense,” I told him as he led me through the garden and around the house toward the driveway. “I thought that was my role tonight, not yours.”
“Do I?” Don glanced down at me, his hand on the small of my back. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“You do.” He did. In the time between the point when he’d disappeared under the guise of getting champagne and the point when he’d collected me from the dance floor, it was like he’d replaced his shoulders with stiff, heavy steel. “Did something happen? Another shade? Did more danger finally rear its ugly head?”
“Maybe I’m just tired,” Don suggested. “Aren’t you?”
“A little,” I admitted. I really was.
Even for a wedding, it had been a long day.
For a moment, I almost believed that he might be tired too. Out here in the dark, away from everyone else and lit only by moonlight, whatever trick he’d done to look like Simon was fading. Under the cover of darkness, he was beginning to look more like himself again.
His real self. The one that made my stomach flip-flop and my pulse pound and my heart race, just from looking at him.
And that was without the added benefit of Don’s way with words.
“You did well tonight, Bea.” He led me to a limousine parked outside of the estate in the circle driveway out front. “I hope you’ve realized that. I know how much all of this has been for you. I want you to know how brave you’ve been through all of it.”
“Is that what I’ve been?” I asked him. “Brave?”
“Oh, Bea.” In front of the limo, he took my shoulders in his hands and turned my body to face his. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Maybe I don’t.”
I stared up into his eyes and wondered what the hell I should have been doing with my hands. With the moonlight and the darkness and the way his face was slowly changing back into its true form, I felt like I should be pressing my hands to his chest and swooning—or something. Like the heroine on the cover of a paperback romance novel.
But as it was, my wrists hung limply at my sides, uncertain of whether I should give in and touch him the way my hands so desperately wanted to, or if I should give over to the sense of fear that hid beneath how bad I wanted him and simply push him away.
“Or maybe,” I continued, “I just know how afraid of you I really am.”
“You don’t need to be afraid of me, darling.” He rolled his lower lip beneath his tongue and slowly shook his head. “I may be a dangerous man—”
“A demon,” I said. “You told me you were a demon. A king of Hell.”
“And I am. You know it’s true.” He moved a hand from my shoulder and brushed his knuckles against the back of my cheek. “But I didn’t just come here to marry you.”
“Are you sure about that?” My eyes met his. A challenge. “That’s certainly what you ended up doing. Isn’t it?”
“I came here today to protect you.” Don’s eyes gleamed with honesty as they shifted from blue to gray. “I can’t explain everything to you right now. To give you the full scope of this situation—everything you’ve forgotten, and all the forces in play—I’d need hours. Maybe days.”
“Days?” I scoffed. “How much of you could there be to forget?”
“When we have a chance to get these clothes off, I’ll be more than happy to show you.” He cupped my cheek in his hand. The heat of his palm against my skin took my breath away. “I’m going to tell you everything. All of it, Bea. But to do that, you’ll need sleep, and we’ll both need time.”
“When?” That seemed like a reasonable question, all things considered.
After all, I’d been waiting around for answers all night.
“Soon,” Don promised. “But not tonight. You don’t want to spend your wedding night playing twenty questions, do you?”
The gentle buzz of champagne bubbled through me. “Did you have something else in mind?”
“If I did, I be a bastard for trying to make it happen.” Don moved his hand from my cheek to wipe something invisible to me from his mouth, which was quickly shifting from Simon’s thin lips into Don’s full, kissable smirk. “You’re exhausted, darling. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Not too tired to listen,” I said softly. “Try me. I’m all ears.”
Don only opened the door of the limo for me and ushered me through it. “All right. Get in, and I’ll try.”
But as soon as my ass hit the seat, I knew Don was right. I could feel every seam of my dress pressing indentations into my skin. My ribs ached from spending too long trussed into fabric that clung to my body so tight. My eyes were sore, and my knees felt like jelly. Even my tits hurt.
I still wanted answers. I needed them.
But whatever exhaustion Don saw in me, I felt every bit of it as soon as my body was allowed to sit down.
Fuck.
“Okay, then, brown eyes. What do you want to know first?” Don asked as he climbed in behind me.
I blinked up at him as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I shouldn’t have wanted that. Shouldn’t have liked it, either.
But I did want it, and I did like it.
I was tired, and inside the limo, Don didn’t look like Simon at all anymore.
Too tired to stop myself from giving in, and against my better judgment, I cuddled against Don’s chest. Just a little bit.
But as soon as I moved for him, Don wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer. He certainly had a way of turning a little into a lot.
“When you knew me before…” I was sleepy enough that I was struggling to put my ideas into words. But I did my best. “Is that what you called me? Brown eyes?”
“Sometimes,” said Don. “Sometimes, I called you kitten, or sweetheart or sunshine. Or darling. You’re always darling. The rest depended on my mood—and yours.”
It was a nice notion, at least.
Kitten. I liked that.
I liked it a lot.
“Is Simon somewhere safe?” I should have asked that question hours ago and I knew it. But the fact of the matter was, there’d been so many other things to ask…
And if what Don had said about Simon was true, then I really had no reason to care about how Simon was at all.
“Safe enough until I deal with him,” Don said. “But once he’s been dealt with…I can’t make any promises.”
I nodded against Don’s chest.
Safe enough.
Maybe that was what Simon really deserved.
If what Don said was true.
“Am I still in danger now?” I asked him. My eyelids were heavy. Don’s chest was comfortable and warm.
“Not at the moment, I don’t think,” Don purred down at me. He stroked the back of my head, smoothing down my hair over my veil. “But even if you were, kitten—” I smiled at the word. “I’d keep you safe.”
“Promise?” The world was getting fuzzy. Don was sweet and kind.
“Promise,” he said. “On my life.”