Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer Book 1)(9)

“Greed.” I gestured toward her room. “There’s a fresh outfit hanging in your closet in a black garment bag. Please wear that today.” I tried to keep my smile subdued, but the idea of her wearing clothes I’d selected for her sent a possessive streak of lust through me. My woman. Mine. I hadn’t felt like that since… Well, since the last time.

“What are we doing?” There it was again, that suspicion threading through her tone. It was one of the reasons I liked her. She never did let me get away with anything.

“Shopping.” I deliberately kept my voice casual, and she lifted her chin in question. “We’ll be purchasing some new clothes for you.”

She groaned. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

I stared pointedly at her threadbare robe. “Everything.”

She crossed her arms. “Excuse me for not realizing I’d be playing the role of billionaire’s mistress this week.”

“Exactly. You need a wardrobe suiting your new position at my side.” I looked back down at my newspaper, effectively dismissing her. My feigned disinterest wasn’t because I was finished looking at her, but because if I continued to watch her, I’d want to touch her, to kiss her, to possess her, and she wasn’t ready for that…yet.

She huffed and then turned on her heel to head back to her room, hopefully to get ready. I glanced up and caught sight of her perfect ass and the swish of her long golden hair. She looked different from before, but there was no doubt of who she was. The tug inside me, the rapidity of my heartbeat, and the twitch in my cock… Every part of me knew exactly who she was.

She must have felt it too—the pull, the longing, the need. The unbreakable connection between us that stretched back for all eternity. But it must be buried deep this time.

It was an exquisite torture to know the truth about us, and to be the only one who remembered. I wanted to tell her, but I’d wait until she was ready to hear it. This was certainly a game for a patient man, and I’d bargained on a week.

Over the next few nights I would remind her who she really was—and why she belonged by my side as my queen.





6





Hannah





Another car whisked us out of The Celestial and down The Strip, but at least it wasn’t a limo this time. Not that the sleek, silver Aston Martin sports car was any less glamorous. Lucas drove with a casual hand on the wheel, and with his eyes focused on the road, it allowed me to study him without his intense gaze staring back at me. He was too handsome to be real, like something out of a dream, and every time I looked at him I wanted to touch him to prove to myself I wasn’t imagining it. He exuded a heady mix of sensual charm and dark, dangerous power that was impossible to resist. This time he wasn’t in a tux, thank goodness, but his black suit was perfectly tailored and no doubt cost a fortune.

My outfit probably did too, for that matter. In my closet I’d found white shorts with a label I didn't recognize, but no doubt couldn't afford, and a sleeveless button-up shirt in lavender. I looked like I was ready to head to the country club and eat stupidly small sandwiches or drink tea with my pinky outstretched while laughing at poor people like me.

And then there were the shoes, sparkly black flats with Miu Miu on them. I’d heard of that brand and had to stop myself from getting on my phone and searching for the price. I couldn’t stand the thought of walking the sidewalks of Las Vegas in shoes that cost more than my car. I chose to believe they weren’t that expensive. I couldn’t think about them any other way or I’d need to carry them and walk about barefoot. I was in so far over my head it wasn’t even funny, and my gut twisted at the idea of what he’d want in return for all of this…kindness.

And how I’d probably give it to him.

At least Lucas was fulfilling his bargain to find Brandy. As we drove along The Strip, I stared out at the tourists walking past the brightly lit stores, casinos, and restaurants, while thinking back on what I’d heard this afternoon. I found it hard to believe Brandy would leave a bar with a stranger, no matter how sexy he was, and Lucas’s explanation of the man being an incubus didn’t make me feel any better. They had a lead though, which was more than I’d been able to get. I just had to stick through this bizarre experience for another few days until she was found and we could go back to our normal lives.

And that whole thing about Lucas being the devil? Yeah, I’d been trying hard to forget that ever since he’d brought it up last night. The only explanation I had was that he was using it as a metaphor to try and intimidate me.

Or he really believed it, which was even more disturbing.

We entered a parking garage, going down several levels until we reached an area filled with a selection of the flashiest looking cars I'd ever seen. I'd only heard of some of them—the names almost always Italian and spoken in reverent tones.

“Where are we?” I asked, as a man in a suit stepped up to open the passenger door, while a valet moved forward to park the car for Lucas. Rich people never parked, I’d quickly learned.

Lucas got out of the car and walked to my side, stepping in front of the valet to take my hand and help me out, almost like he wouldn’t dare let the other man get near me. “This is a special entrance to the Shops at Crystals for their premier customers. It’s a shopping center that houses only luxury brands. I own it through Abaddon Inc, which also owns thousands of malls across the world.”

“You own this place? And thousands of malls?” My jaw fell open. During my short stay in Vegas while searching for Brandy I’d walked past the Shops at Crystals and marveled at them from outside, but knew there was no way I could afford anything inside.

He buttoned his jacket as he replied, “Just another of my holdings. Shall we?”

He led me down a red carpet—an actual red carpet—into a mall that was unlike any I’d ever been in before. We walked along shiny floors that had thick veins of gold running along the edges, meeting champagne-colored walls with intricate sconces every few feet to light the way. At the end of it were steps that actually looked like they were plated in gold, with lush greenery on either side. I picked out black mondo grass with pink and white periwinkles and some lilac hibiscus. I breathed in deeply as we passed them, feeling a touch of homesickness for my florist shop.

“This is a mall?” I asked in a hushed voice.

Lucas’s lips quirked with amusement as he walked by my side. “This is a secret part of the mall, a special tunnel for VIP guests. Vegas brings lots of celebrities and high rollers, and they like to shop without being observed. Each of the shops has a separate entrance so we can retain our privacy.”

Personally, I would have preferred to people-watch everyone else in the mall, but I supposed a man like him wanted that kind of privacy, with his darkness and obvious underworld connections—because how else would he gain that degree of power? Nothing about Lucas Ifer was like anything I’d ever known before. I’d heard about how the other half lived, but I’d never expected the difference to be so vast. It was obvious he just expected the world to bow down before him. And the world did bow.

The tunnel we were in was empty except for the two of us, but I read all sorts of signs like Gucci, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and others I'd never even heard of. Was he expecting me to buy clothes here?

I cleared my throat. “You do know I can’t afford much, right? I barely had enough money to pay for gas to get to Vegas.”

His hand curled around my elbow, and even that light touch made my breath hitch and my thighs clench together. “Hannah, I would never expect you to pay for any of this. It’s my gift to you.”

I bit my lip. “And what do you want in exchange?”

“Only the pleasure of your company.”

He led me inside the first shop, where a sign over the door read Versace. It was all white, with white leather couches, white floors, white tables. The only thing that wasn't white in the whole room was the clothes we had on and the name of the shop printed repeatedly on the floor in gold.

As soon as we walked in, a saleswoman ran from the other side of the room, her pert bob bouncing in her haste. "Mr. Ifer," the saleswoman exclaimed. For a second, I thought she was going to curtsy. "It's such a pleasure to see you. How can we assist you today?”

“Please measure my companion and bring us an assortment of clothing for her to browse.”

With wide eyes the saleswoman turned to rush from the room, giving me the impression of a startled deer. She was terrified of him, I realized. Was everyone in this city?

He sat on the edge of one of the couches, then patted the spot beside him for me. I shook my head, too intimidated to sit down.

Within moments, more salespeople ran in and out of the room with clothes on racks, hanging them in front of me. I could only gawk at the expensive clothes, soft fabrics, and shimmering materials. Someone handed me a bottle of ice-cold water with a fancy-looking label I didn’t recognize, and I took a sip, my throat dry. I hated to admit that the water tasted better than any water I normally purchased for myself. Shit, I usually drank tap water, even when it tasted like dirt or was so sun-heated it rivaled the temperature of my coffee.

“Try on anything you like.” Lucas waved in the general direction of the clothes. “It’s all yours, should you desire it.”