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“Ye might’ve come to Endymion for yer father, Georgia, but here, tonight…” He lowered himself until his lips were inches above hers. “Tonight is for ye.”

Ah. He was wrong there.

Smiling, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Nay, Demon. Tonight is for us.”

Chapter 10

Demon was whistling as he strolled down the corridor toward Georgia’s room.

Who in the malodorous wank-numpty whistled? Idiots and mad men, that was who.

Which was he?

Both.

Neither.

Ye fooked her on a bearskin rug. In winter. In front of a fire. All ye lacked was a bunch of rose petals, and it would’ve been a scene from one of those ridiculously romantic novels she’s fond of reading.

Demon found himself wondering where he might find some rose petals.

Ye cannae be serious? Dinnae continue this madness. She’s manipulating ye, trying to control ye. She’s only here for her father’s debt; fook her as often as ye want, but dinnae get attached.

Not attached? That ship had sailed. He was fooking whistling.

Because ye held her last night as she’d wanted. Ye ruddy cuddled. ‘Twas a mistake to look her in the eye as ye fook her…turn her about so she cannae see the real ye.

But last night, she hadn’t seemed to mind fooking him. And that hadn’t been fooking.

When he reached her door, he halted, his hand raised to knock.

Last night had been making love.

And damnation, but he’d liked it. A month ago, the thought of another human seeing him so vulnerable, seeing him, would’ve been laughable. But he liked making love to Georgia. He liked her.

It was a damned shame she saw him only as a means to ending her father’s debt.

Ye’re no’ worth anything more to her, and that’s how it should be. It’ll end as soon as it began.

Because here he was, as he’d been every morning since her arrival at Endymion. He was going to push his way into her room, into her space, and assume she was ready for him. Was he going to kiss her, taste her? Lave her nipples and suck on her clitoris? Or bend her over and hold her hair as he rammed his cock into her, listening to her breathless pleasure?

Both brought pleasure, but it was undeniable last night’s pleasure had been…well, pleasure.

His stomach tightened at the thought. He’d made love to her last night.

He’d held her and kissed her and made love to Georgia, after threatening her father that he’d ruin her.

He’d ruined her already, and God help him, ruined himself in the process.

Last night had been wrong. They’d made love. That had crossed the line between captor and collateral. He hadn’t deserved what she’d given him.

So why in the fook are ye whistling? Ye’re gloating?

Swallowing his growl, Demon dragged his hand through his hair, tangling his fingers. Bilious bungle-barnacles! It had grown too long. Last night it was only in the way, but he’d enjoyed the way she’d touched his hair.

Touched him.

Before he could stop himself, he turned the knob and stepped into her room.