There were big, enveloping towels, and I wrapped myself tightly and tried to do something with my ridiculously tangled hair. It was a pain in the butt trying to wash it, especially when the saber cut on my face had started to bleed again under the hot water, seeping across my scalp when I tilted my head back. In Brisbane Id used half a cup of conditioner in an effort to force it into submission, but the fabulous shower here didnt come with anything but lavender shampoo. Great. I was going to scare the pants off him. I managed a nervous giggle. That was the point, wasnt it? And he shouldnt be surprised if I looked like a crazy womanhe was expecting to bed a demon. At least I could comply as far as looks went.
Unless he did this in total darkness. That would make the entire thing easier. After all, Id had sex with Rolf and it had been no big whoop. And Rolfs increasingly limp response
was one more sign that I was a far cry from the irresistible siren Azazel believed me to be. In fact, he was going to be pretty disappointed if he expected fireworks and acrobatics. I didnt know any. I had every intention of simply doing it and getting it over with as quickly as possible.
I walked into my room, planning to find the voluminous nightgown Id worn the night before. Maybe I wouldnt even have to take it offI could just raise it demurely and avert my eyes.
I stopped short. He was lying on my bed, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. I should have known hed be gorgeous without a shirt. His skin was luminous white-gold against the colorless sheets, and his black hair was damp, pushed away from his starkly beautiful face. He was watching me intently, and my panic blossomed.
But there was no place to run. I could do this. Id done this countless times before, hadnt I? I looked at him. Could we turn off the lights?
No.
I bit my lip. Do you know where my nightgown is?
You dont need it. Come. He gestured to the bed beside him. That blasted command again. I moved a couple steps closer.
Cant you do something? I said nervously. Say something nice to me? Hold out your hand?
So you can pretend this is not what it is? I doubt it. Remove the towel and get on the bed, and stop pretending you havent been doing this for tens of thousands of years. You can use your skillsthey wont have any effect on me.
I dont have skills, I said, frustrated. And if they wont make any difference, why should I try?
It is not beyond the realm of possibility that they might speed things up, which we would both appreciate. Take off the towel and get on the bed.
I got on the bed, keeping the towel clamped around me. He lay back against the pillows, the color of him a striking contrast against the drabness of this world. He was waiting for me to do something, to take charge.
Well, I certainly understood the basics. Tab A fit into slot B and all that. I pulled my legs up underneath me and stared at him. What if Im not your mythical baby-eating demon? I said suddenly. What if youre wrong, if you scooped up the wrong person?
There is no mistake.
How do you know?
Because of my reaction to you.
That gave me pause. And then I rallied. Oh, I bet you hate a lot more people than just me, and you dont go around thinking theyre Lilith.
I have already told you I do not hate you. And that is not the reaction Im talking about.
Then what are you talking about? I demanded, frustrated.
On anyone else, that glimmer might signal amusement. Not on Azazel, of course. But he didnt answer my question. Instead, he said, You can stop trying to put this off with meaningless questions.
Thats right, I said, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. The sooner we do it, the sooner its over.
Exactly. Go ahead.
Go ahead? Shit, and do what? And why was I getting so upset? I wanted it over and done with as much as he did. Clinging to the knot that held the towel together, I moved over to him, careful to keep my lower half covered, which was no mean feat, given that the towel seemed determined to split apart and flash him.
I reached out and put a tentative hand on his chest, and almost yanked it back again. His skin was warm. For some reason I expected him to feel cool beneath my hand. I let my fingers slide up tentatively to his shoulder. Shouldnt angels have wings? I whispered.
I have them when I need them.
Magic?
Miracle, he said, not moving beneath the gentle explorations. His nipples were dark circles against his pale skin, and I wanted to put my mouth on them. The thought was so random and unexpected that I ignored it, moving my fingers across his collarbone to the other shoulder.
You know, he said in a conversational tone, youd be better off moving your hand lower down. All the interesting parts are below the waist.
I yanked my hand back, suddenly embarrassed. I was doing this wrong. Why the hell hadnt I ever learned to come on to a man?
The answer was simple. I had never wanted to. Sex had been the price I paid for companionship, something men wanted, not me. It was about bringing pleasure to a man, not about my pleasure. But this time was different.