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Unfortunately, I’m a sucker for the tall, dark, and devilish type. The more red flags and pitchforks they’re waving, the better.
If there’s one thing I really hate, it’s when someone underestimates my intelligence. Especially when that someone is male and inconveniently hot.
“Luce.” “As in Lucy?” “No, as in Lucifer. Don’t pet her, she’s allergic to people. And I do mind. Like I said, Petra, we’re closed.”
A new line of ink, bold, fresh, and burning white-hot like a brand, had appeared on the inside of my wrist. It was her name. And I knew without a doubt that this woman who walked out of my dreams and into my shop on a rainy October night was always meant to show up. Because, somehow, she was part of the curse too.
It’s a time-tested truth that the best-looking men are always the absolute worst.
Oh, except for the fun fact that any woman who fell in love with a Rousseau man was doomed to a tragic death. So that was perfect. Nothing says “great idea” like falling for a man who might be my own personal grim reaper.
“What you’re asking for, smart-ass, is a spanking.” A jolt of lust rocked my body. Wide-eyed and breathless, my heart pounding, I stared at him. Spanking? Yes, that sounded like an excellent idea.
She tasted like sweet dreams and bad decisions. And I was already in too deep.
Her lips were soft, but her kiss wasn’t. It was wild, urgent, the kind of kiss that proved she wasn’t afraid of curses or consequences. Instead of pulling away like I should have, I instinctively dragged her closer, my fingers digging into the curve of her waist. I slid a hand into her hair, fisting it there, holding her still as I drank deeply and took what she was offering.
“You don’t know me, but I’m as stubborn as a drunk goat on a narrow bridge.”
The only thing worse than a smart-ass woman was a smart-ass woman who was right.
“One must be lost for the other to be free.”
“The grave is open. The headstone is already carved. Only one thing remains, Descendant of Ash—sacrifice.”
It figured I’d fall for a witch. My taste in women always ran toward the feral ones.
“Well, shit. I might have to rethink my whole snark-and-bark attitude and start being nicer to you.” I rolled over, took her face in my hands, and smiled down into her eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare.” When I kissed her, she was laughing.