Page 9

She’d said it stiffly, as if she was deeply offended by his comment. And perhaps he’d intended to get a little dig in. To remind them both they weren’t compatible. The Soleil Stephenses of the world were all about a warm hearth with an army of brats. It wasn’t for him. Trev liked the city with its art museums, culture, and vast array of women and foods. He’d grow bored in five minutes if he had to live the country life on this lost fucking island in Massachusetts.

“And real menarethe stuff of heroes.Damianis a prime example of that.”

He laughed. Of course she’d view Dethridge, with his courtly manners and proper speech, as the quintessential hero.

“Why are you laughing?”

Her indignation made him laugh harder. She was the epitome of an offended virgin.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

Trev wiped his moist eyes with the tips of his fingers, trying to control himself and failing. He fell back against the pillows and hugged his stomach as he struggled to catch his breath.

A clump of hard-packed soil hit him in the chest, sobering him instantly. He stared down at the dark smudge on his previously clean white shirt, then at her, in shocked wonder. “What the actual fuck, lady? Why do you keep doing that?”

Soleil lifted her chin, but hurt lingered in her soulful eyes. “I don’t like to be the brunt of someone else’s humor.”

“So you resort to throwingdirtlike a two-year-old?”

Trev wouldn’t have believed it possible with her previous inability to hide her feelings, but all expression dropped from her face, leaving it a blank mask. Her once-shining eyes had lost all life and were dull as she stared back at him.

And he hated it.

Hated the practiced look she wore, as if she’d had to perfect it to protect herself from bullies.

Bullies named Trevor.

But he wasn’t a bully, and he didn’t pull the wings off colorful little butterflies like Soleil. When exactly he’d gone from thinking her drab to colorful, he couldn’t say.

“I’m sorry,” he said meaningfully. “You surprised me, but I wasn’t trying to be hurtful, Ms. Stephens.”

“Soleil,” she replied softly, licking her lips but not meeting his eyes.

Deep down, Trev understood he was forgiven for whatever slight he’d offered up.

“I wasn’t trying to be hurtful, Soleil.” She backed away as he rose to his feet, and he took a step toward her, then another and another until he was staring down at her bent head. “I was merely teasing you. Not trying to upset you.”

“And I was just trying to tell you that you’re wrong. Heroes exist in the world.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. In my line of work, I’ve seen the worst of the worst. Nice people are hard to come by.”

“You have a brother. Is he not nice?”

“Simon?” Irritation curled his lip. “How do you know my brother?”

And why the hell did she look so guilty?

“I d-don’t. Not r-really.” She took a step back. “I asked Damian.”

Not liking the way she said the man’s name, like she reallydidhave a case of hero worship, Trev scowled.

She gulped.

“Why are you scared of me, earth witch?”

“You’re a D-death Dealer, and you look p-pissed as hell.”

Well, yeah, that might intimidate someone. “You don’t have to worry about any of that…yet.”