Page 5 of Devil's Due
“Call it fashion charity.”
He was studying her again, with lazy interest. “I just can’t picture you and Jazz as friends.”
“Why?”
“She’s just—one of the guys, you know? Not so …” He gestured vaguely, letting her finish the sentence with whatever adjective seemed best. Wise of him. “I was surprised how good she looked, last time I saw her. Your influence, or the counselor’s?”
He knew about Borden, then. Yes, of course he did. Lucia shrugged. “Maybe both.”
“She’s not drinking so much.”
“No.”
“Not getting into fights.”
“Well, we’re working on that part.”
“Good luck with that.” He grinned, and caught the attention of a passing waiter to get a refill on his coffee. He drank it black as the devil’s heart. “So, if you’re not going to tell me anything, I’ll just have to tell you three things about yourself, Miss Garza.”
“Is this popular at parties?”
“A riot on cell block six.”
“Then please, enlighten me.”
“One, you manipulate people. Sometimes for their own good, but always to your advantage.” He sopped a piece of toast in a remaining bit of peach jam and ate it, watching her reaction. She kept her face bland, but felt the barb sink unpleasantly deep. “Two, you use your looks as deception. You look warm and girlie and elegant, but I’ll bet you can hand most guys their asses in a fight.”
He was right again, of course. She didn’t allow herself to blink. “And three?”
“How am I doing so far?”
“We’ll see. And three?”
He shrugged. “You’re lonely.”
She laughed out loud. “Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
“Hardly!”
“I didn’t say you don’t get attention. Every guy in here has checked you out at least once, and half the women, too. I said you werelonely.A woman as beautiful as you is nothingbutlonely. Even when you’re with somebody, you’re wondering if they’re into you or the glossy package, and sweetheart, just from the fifteen—no, make that sixteen—hours that we’ve been talking, I can tell you that you’re high on the paranoid scale, anyway. So the point is, you don’t let anybody close these days.”
It hit hard, under the armor, right in a soft place she didn’t know she had. Years of dealing with a string of men who’d professed love and delivered obsession. Years of mistrusting and holding back and staying cool.
For a second, she hated those blue-diamond eyes and their ability to see everything.
“You’re wrong. I’m not lonely. Far from it.”
He gave her a slow smile. “That tells me something else about you. You think you’re a good liar. And hey, for most people, you are.”
“Do you make a habit of insulting people who do you good turns?”
“Usually they want something. Speaking of that, what is ityouwant?”
Once again, he caught her off guard. “Me? I’m only here out of courtesy.”
“Courtesy?”
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