Demon Angel

your honor?"
    Lilith struggled to keep her scorn on her bovine features when all she wanted was, to bang her head repeatedly against the temple's rock wall. Stupid, to try casting aspersions on his honor or courage in order to generate a heated, thoughtless response. She'd done so earlier, and he had regarded her as calmly as he did now.
    Did she never learn? Or had she become so used to men of Mandeville's ilk—proud, vain, cruel men—that she'd become a creature of habit? True, she'd become bored in her old role, and seized the opportunity to corrupt an innocent when Lucifer had offered it, but she hadn't expected innocence to present a challenge.
    Nor had she expected the challenge to be so pleasant to look upon. A pity this innocent was not hers—still, that would not prevent her from playing with him.
    "Honor?" he echoed, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Oh, those were fine brows. Even a demon could not find an imperfection in them, though she might try. Like dark mahogany, they matched the hair that curled soft as a cherub's, barely visible beneath his helm. Thick lashes framed clear, azure eyes. At an age between adolescence and maturity, his cheeks and jawline curved gently, as if his face were too youthful for angles. "What you ask is hardly in fair exchange for what you deemed 'nothing.'"
    "My good sir, the terms of the bargain are equal! I gave you my name… and you have only to give yours to Sir William."
    A smile seemed to threaten the corners of his mouth. "The consequences are uneven. Name another—worth nothing—and I will leave you to your assignation and return to my party."
    She affected a pout. She'd been listening to those waiting on the road, but Hugh's absence had not yet caused them significant worry. Much longer, however, and they would come after him. "Perhaps they already begin to search for you," she lied easily. "Your resistance will be for naught, and they will all look upon Sir William. I heard the ladies laughing earlier—will they laugh the louder for his prick being exposed to their gaze?"
    "Not one lady," Hugh said beneath his breath, but Lilith had no trouble discerning his words.
    "Ah, aye," she said. "Lady Isabel. She is far too kind a creature to laugh at another's misfortune. And she would not think the better of you for being the procurer of their amusement. Does her opinion matter so much?"
    To her frustration, she could not read his face, and he had unusually strong shields for one so young—as if he often hid his thoughts even from himself. But the granite voice with which he replied gave her the answer she sought. "Name your side of the bargain, lady."
    "A kiss." He looked at her with surprise, and she arched a brow. " 'Tis nothing but a meeting of lips. It only has meaning when there is love or a promise involved, and there is neither between us."
    "It should not be given without love or promise," he said, but his gaze fell to her lips.
    "So idealistic." She grinned and slid her tongue over her teeth. "I should love to corrupt you."
    A chuckle rumbled from him as he leaned over. "I promise I would not be worth the effort."
    She had to rise on her toes to meet his lips. They were firm and cool beneath hers, and he did not immediately pull away, but neither did he deepen the kiss. She felt his tension—as if he expected her to take the kiss farther, and both feared and hoped she would.
    Oh, to choose between desire and fear. Her instincts cried for her to take his mouth fully, to subject him to a sensual onslaught, to play on his fear—but her instincts had guided her wrongly with him before. And so she decided to both assuage his fear and deny his desire by ending the kiss.
    She nipped gently at his bottom lip and his mouth opened.
    The beat of his heart skipped and increased, drumming loud in her ears. Pleased by his involuntary response, she stepped away to gauge his reaction. He blinked and straightened, his cheeks flooding with color.
    "I see you make a habit of only taking a man so far," he said ruefully.
    Had he said it in any other tone, it would have been a condemnation of her as a cock-tease. Instead, he made sport of himself.
    "Only as far as they will," she replied; for truthfully, she could not act contrary to a human's free will.
    "Perhaps you mistook mine."
    She pushed the absurdly pleased rush of emotion away, and wondered if she should feel insulted that he suggested she'd misread him. "I think not."
    "I've never pitied Sir William before this