Immortal Rider_ Lords of Deliverance Series_ - Larissa Ione [37]
So… fine. He’d play their game. They were obviously working hard to convince him that this bullshit was real, so he’d give them a taste of who he was when he wasn’t being held in a filthy dungeon. He’d take charge of this situation and teach them real fast that he was in control of what was in his head.
“So.” He kicked the paper plate into the corner. “I’m really in Hawaii, and you’re really who you say you are. The Horseman who got me tossed into hell.”
A black brow arched, just a little. “So you believe me?”
“I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“You can say my name now.”
Like hell he could. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not taking any chances. So tell me why, exactly, my captors wanted me to say it.”
She dragged her hand through her hair, and even though she wasn’t the real thing, his fingers flexed, wanting to do the same. “Did they tell you why you were taken to Sheoul?”
Only about a million times. “They said it was because of you. Because you lost control somehow and were selfish.”
Surprise flickered in her gaze, and her lips parted on an indignant sound. “Hardly. You went there because you kissed me, and that was forbidden.” Her chin came up as if she suddenly remembered she was supposed to have a superiority complex.
“A kiss? A fucking kiss got me tortured to within the last inch of sanity? Maybe you could have laid out the rules for messing around with you? You know, before I did that?”
She sniffed. “You should have known better.”
This demon had Limos’s mannerisms and attitude down pat. “So why do—did—they want me to speak your name?”
“Because I’m engaged,” she said nonchalantly, as she studied her nails. “But my fiancé can’t claim me unless I’m captured in Sheoul, my Seal breaks, or the male I give my affections to utters my name while in agony.”
“Oh, now you tell me you’re engaged?” he said between gritted teeth.
She let out a long-suffering sigh, as if his questions were a bother. “I didn’t think it was important. Seeing how I hadn’t planned to do anything more intimate than kick your ass.”
Steam turned his body into a pressure cooker. “You little liar. You kissed me back. You wanted it.”
“I did not.” As if she’d just shot up with a speedball, her pupils dilated, swallowing the purple, and then went to pinpoints before returning to normal.
“Don’t fucking lie to me. I’ve kissed enough women in my life to know, so stop the bullshit.”
A low, pumping growl rumbled in her chest. “How many women have you kissed?”
“Why?”
“How many?”
Oh, now this was rich; she was jealous. She had no right to be fucking jealous. Not when she was engaged to another man. The steam scoured his veins, because even though the logical part of him didniv h chimot t think any of this was real, his body and emotions weren’t as sure.
“You want the truth? Because you won’t get lies from me. So be very careful what you ask for.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared. When it was clear she didn’t really want an answer, he went back to the original subject.
“So let me get this straight. I say your name, and you walk down the aisle with loverboy. That’s it? I was hung from hooks and roasted over coals just so you didn’t have to reserve a church?”
He was so going to say her name. He’d shout it from the rooftop. With a blowhorn.
“It’s not that simple.” Calm again, she caught a lock of hair and twirled it around her finger, and Arik wished she’d stop with the ADHD routine. “I mean, yeah, you saved me from bedding down with the big boy, but it’s about more than that—”
“Wait.” He held up his hand. “Who, exactly, is your fiancé?”
“Um… well… that would be Satan.”
Arik’s entire center of gravity wobbled, and he threw out a hand to catch himself on the dresser. “The Satan? As in, cast out of Heaven, ultimate evil, fallen angel? Lucifer?”
She rolled her eyes. “Actually, Satan and Lucifer aren’t the same. A simple mistranslation led to that belief—you’d be surprised how often mistranslations