Sparkle had just decided to pull on her nightgown, shut off the lights, and try to get some sleep when, without warning, the door crashed open. She leaped from the bed, grabbed her nail file from the desk and crouched, ready for battle. But only darkness and the wind waited outside. She felt it. She was about to shove the door closed when the sound of the wind changed. Its low moan rose to a shriek. Before she could react to the unseen danger, an icy blast of air exploded into the room. It shoved her back and scattered clothes, loose papers, and the makeup she had left on the desk.
The air spun into a funnel that grew taller and taller until the shape of a man materialized within it. Finally, it faded to a breeze and died away. The man remained. He held a severed head by its long blood-soaked hair. Besides, this was Mistral. He glanced down at the head. Notice the five eyes set where its nose should be. The horn growing from the chin is unusual too. Useless during a fight, though.
He laughed. I was just taking it to my truck when you called. He crawled out of hell last week and got busy upgrading his digs to a penthouse condo in Chicago. Bad decision. This planet is mine. Sparkle laughed. That answer was so Mistral. She had only met one other cosmic troublemaker with a bigger ego.
Her smile died. He huffed his impatience with her, but he heaved the head into the parking lot. Of course, what had she expected? Mistral tied everything to profit in one form or another. But that was a good thing, because she had plenty of money to throw at him. I needed to remind you. She remained standing.
Sweet Temptation: Sweet Book 4
I remember. He still rated as one of the most incredible-looking men she had ever seen. If he thought the jeans and T-shirt made him look human, he could think again. Mistral was a male cosmic troublemaker, tall and powerful like most of his kind. But from the neck up he dazzled.
Long, straight white hair fell to below his shoulders. Not just an ordinary white, but a shining fall that would leave any woman gasping for air. When the light fell just right on it, the strands glittered with an iridescent sheen. The streak of demon blood made a startling contrast. His hair framed a riveting face—knife edge cheekbones, dark brows, amber eyes framed by thick lashes and a full sensual mouth.
Of course, even Mistral faded in comparison to Mede, but then everyone did.
She pushed thoughts of him aside and concentrated on Mistral. His smile still held the memory of bitterness. So what if you chose Ganymede over me? What do you want? Sparkle tried to calm her racing heart. Then she forced herself to lean back in the chair and cross her legs with a maximum display of thigh. He would expect that from someone who had honed her sexual weapons for thousands of years.
Her departure from an expected routine might signal desperation. His smile widened, became real. She forced a smile to her lips. Better get it back fast, because she swore Mistral could smell fear.
Wicked Temptation | Zoë Archer | Macmillan
More like where he could find someone willing to pay him big bucks for his talent. Call her naive, but she had always believed the joy of sharing her gift should be its own reward. She glanced away from his stare. Those amber eyes seemed to strip her down to her bare essence. Not a comfortable feeling. Everything about him seemed harder than she remembered, if that was even possible. She looked into his cold eyes and wondered why she had thought she could appeal to him after all this time.
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Mistral blinked. Did he care? She would humor him. I give people a chance to act out their secret yearnings. Role playing releases a lot of inhibitions. So many innocent desires and so many ways she could manipulate them. Why did Ganymede leave? The Big Boss has noticed.
I have to find him first. She said unfortunate things when she lost her temper.
She rushed into speech before he could speak. But not this time. Of course, this was the first time he had purposely hidden his whereabouts. Sparkle only hoped Mede had thrown the Big Boss off his trail, too. He lowered his gaze, hiding his expression. Why me, and what do I get out of it? He could become anything: animate or inanimate. Knowing Mistral, this next part could get tricky. She frowned. You never knew with Mistral. He shrugged.
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That was sort of weird. Now help me find Mede. She pointed. Mistral stood beside her. How do you do that? There might not have been any Facebook back then, but he could still touch a mark, an object, anything connected to the person he hunted and know exactly where they were. Mistral kept his finger on the screen. He frowned.
Because I sense someone else with him. It had to be someone he trusted completely. That should be me.