"No, and it's better I don't tell you. It's pretty grisly. The Duskoff use the demons to influence elections, kill people, improve a company's profitability. There's not a lot a demon can't do, and they're unencumbered by morals.”

"What happened to Crane's wife? Did she ever go warlock?”

Something flitted through his eyes. He glanced away.

He always got those shadows in his eyes when he spoke of Crane or the Duskoff. Had he come up against Crane and been hurt in some way? Had Crane hurt someone he cared for?

Jack pushed a hand through his hair. "Listen, question and answer time is over. I'll tell you later, all right?" He stood. "I have things I need to do now.”

Mira frowned up at him. That was rude. "Fine," she snapped.

He walked toward the bedroom, his refuge of choice.

"Jack?”

He turned.

"When will you start training me to use my magick?”

He grimaced. "That requires me to touch you.”

Mira's eyes widened and she felt herself flush crimson with embarrassment and anger.

Jack blinked slowly, seeing her expression. "No, Mira. It's not because I find you unattractive. It's the opposite of that. If I touch you a little, I want to touch you a lot. Understand?" He glowered at her for the hundredth time that day, then palmed his Zippo, stalked into his bedroom, and closed the door.

Oh.

Mira sank down on the couch and touched her still burning cheeks. He might make her feel safe, but she hardly felt welcome.

NINE

EIGHT

MIRA SLIP OUT OF BED IN THE EARLY MORNING hours. The clock on Jack's dresser read 3:05 a.m. Moonlight spilled in through the uncurtained window, pooling on the hardwood floor beneath it.

She stared at it for a moment. That pale silvery light called to her.

Carefully, she eased away from the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans, socks, shoes, and a sweater. The floor creaked on her way out the door and she froze in place, glancing at the bed.

Jack lay on his back with one arm flung over his head in an unconscious pose that defined his biceps. He'd pushed the blankets to the end of the bed, in spite of the chill in the room. He never wore a shirt to sleep and the position revealed his very lickable, muscular chest. Her body tightened at the sight of him.

A light dusting of dark hair marked his chest and tapered into a trail that went down his stomach, past the waistband of his cotton PJ bottoms. The thought of where that trail stopped made a hot, hard flush overcome her body.

Her fingers tightened on the clothes she held. How long would he resist her if she crawled in beside him and set her mind and body to seducing him? Probably not long. Mira had never seduced anyone in her life, but Jack tempted her to explore new horizons.