Her eyes flash with indignant anger. “That was a year and a half ago. I’m very well rounded now.”

“Prove it.”

I press her hard against the wall and slant my mouth over hers. She lets out the tiniest yelp of pain, and I have to stop myself from backing off to see if she’s all right. I wasn’t being gentle, but I also hadn’t been rough enough to hurt her. I move past the awkward pause and focus again on her mouth. Anna’s hands go to my chest. Her nails dig in and grasp my T-shirt. That’s it, Anna.

The side of my body chills like it’s been hit by a cold breeze, and a wet, bubbling sound of ecstasy fills my head. Fucking demon. Anna cringes and I turn to glare at the spirit, who’s right in my face.

“Bit of a turnoff when you do that,” I say through clenched teeth. “Mind shutting up?”

I hope it will back off long enough for us to give a decent show before I attempt to send it away. I take Anna’s warm mouth again, but I’m finding it hard to focus on the charade. I want to savor my girl, and I can’t think like that right now. I have to think of this like a job. Like a random hookup.

I can’t let myself feel for her right now.

I kiss her harder. She doesn’t melt into me like she usually does, but she’s not pushing me away, so I press on. Father’s whisperer is not going to want me to take my time with Anna. I have to get to business.

My shirt comes off first. I’m craving her touch all over my bare skin, but she’s acting sort of stunned by what’s happening. When I reach for the hem of her T-shirt, her arms automatically lock down to her body.

C’mon, Anna . . . trust me.

With a resigned expression, she raises her arms and I tug the shirt over her head, then our bodies are together again. Oh, God. No bra. She’s bare-chested. For the first time, I can feel the soft and taut parts of her touching my own skin. Her arms go around my neck, tight with tension. I release a series of curses in my mind. I want to look down. I know, I’m a pig, but I’m dying to see every bit of her. However, she’s as stiff as a board, so I pretend her naked chest is no big deal to me—not worth checking out.

It’s time to take this to the next level by removing more clothing. I continue to hope Anna won’t throw on the brakes.

Just a bit longer, I want to tell her.

But the biggest part of this show hasn’t even happened yet.

I kiss down her neck to her shoulder and slide my hot hands down her back. My fingers easily push past the elastic of her sleeping shorts, and then her underwear, until I’m cupping her bare arse.

This is the most perfectly fucked-up moment of my life, because having her ass in my hands is heaven, and I should not feel that way right now. My body is so overcome I can’t move. She’s mine and I want her.

Then I remember that my most heavenly moment is being closely scrutinized by a demon.

Still overcome, I manage to say, “Take them off.”

Anna freezes. We don’t look at each other. We have about two seconds to make this look believable—two seconds before she reacts or I rip them off myself.

“You don’t have to be such an ass!” she snaps.

That fiery voice is just what I need to hear. She is livid, but still playing along. Anna will not strip herself, so I will do it for her. A dark part of me is loving every minute of this—thrilled that I will finally be naked with Anna Whitt, even if it won’t lead to sex. I turn her and push her onto the bed, refusing to look at her face as I kneel above her. Before she’s settled I grab the material at her beautiful hips and pull it down her legs.

A single sight catches my eye and puts the dark part of me to rest. There’s a bruise on her thigh, and as I pull her shorts the rest of the way off, I see a series of purple-greenish markings down her calves. I stop breathing. My sweet girl has been injured.

Badly.

Fury burns like heated coals under my skin. Who did this to her?

The whisperer gurgles and flies over us, excited. I can’t stop to demand answers. With great effort I force myself not to stare at her bruises, or her breasts, or . . . well, anywhere.

I move off the bed and stand at the end. She stares hard at me as I unclasp my belt and unbutton my shorts. I’m trying very hard not to look at her body. I want to, desperately, but not like this. However, I’m more than happy to let her see all of me.

It doesn’t happen. As soon as I’m nearly naked, her eyes shift and I’m quite proud to see the look of Neph nonchalance on her face. But I also know her well enough to notice the set of her jaw jutting out—a sign she’s trying not to cry. And behind that glazed expression I can see her hurt, her fear.

I’ve hurt her. I’m scaring her. Does she think I’m going to do this, for real? If she thinks that, I will stab my own damn self with her sword. She has to know I would never force myself on her. Anna’s opinion of me is the only one in the world that matters.

I have to get rid of the damn spirit so I can explain. Just another minute more.

All I have to do now is climb onto the bed with her—breathe—throw a sheet over us—breathe—and pretend. And then it will be over. I won’t let anything happen. I swallow hard and yank the blanket down from underneath her. She scoots back and I put my hands on the bed. Then a knee. Anna’s eyes are on my chest. She knows I’m coming for her, and she’s breathing fast.

I am nearly on top of her when the demon spirit makes a disgusting sound, like something gurgling inside a zombie’s throat. Anna flinches from it, then her eyes light up and she surprises the hell out of me.