Free Demon Lover by Bonnie Dee Page A

hours passed in a blur of straw and gold thread flashing past her eyes and through her fingers. His presence, mostly silent by her side, gave her a strange comfort as well as excitement. The sadness she pushed away for another day. She would not spoil their last hours together. Instead, she wondered what he would ask of her, longed for the curious softening she sensed in him when they were physically close.
    Somewhere, her demon was vulnerable to her as she was to him. She longed to give him his moment of joy, as she had done last night. And as she began on the last bale of straw, her heart began to skip faster as she wondered how it would be done.
    She felt his gaze on her face, heavy, unmoving. She liked him to watch her. It made her smile, though she didn’t look up from her work. It was he who closed the distance between them. She felt his touch on her shoulder, his gloved finger under her chin, turning her face up to his. Or at least up to the hooded shadows that hid his.
    His gloved finger brushed against her lips with soft, aching tenderness. She kissed it. A sound spilled from him, like a groan of pain or distress, yet so faint that she couldn’t even be sure she heard it.
    He released her and stepped away to stand behind the wheel facing her.
    “You ask my name,” he observed. “But not my price.”
    “I’ve already said I’ll pay.”
    He nodded. “Then it’s time I told you what I require.”
    Her breath caught. Delicious anticipation flushed her body. “Tell me.”
    “I want your firstborn child.”
    Again, her hands fell from the wheel, which spun, empty. She stared at him, unsure she’d heard him right. “What?”
    “Your firstborn child,” he repeated.
    “I don’t have a child!”
    “I’m sure you will when you marry the king. You must give the child to me.”
    Gwyneth closed her mouth, shook her head as if that would clear it, make his words mean something else. “Are you serious? Insane?”
    He shrugged. “Serious, certainly.”
    “But…what do you want with a child? With my child?”
    “You will produce a good child. Strong, just and honest. As you are.”
    “I hope I do,” she said flatly. “And if and when that happens, it will stay with me .”
    “You promised. You owe me. And you must pay.”
    “No, I mustn’t. It’s not a price anyone can pay. It’s not human!”
    “ I ’m not human,” he pointed out.
    “I am and I won’t pay!”
    “You must, and I should point out that I have the means to compel you. I will come for the child. Your subsequent children will remain your own.”
    She stared at the still, implacable figure, feeling as if the world were falling on top of her. It was a nightmare. Suddenly, it was all a nightmare. She could not doubt the powers of the being who came and went through solid stone, who made it possible for her to spin gold thread from straw. He could and would take anything he wanted from her. From anyone, even the king.
    “Spin,” he said. And obediently, she did, because she could do nothing else. Her brain felt as numb as her hands. She didn’t seem to move them, and yet they went through the motions of lifting and spinning the gold threads that wound rapidly around the spindle, ensuring her future.
    “You tricked me. You were never going to ask for sex.” She didn’t mean to say the words aloud but they spilled out in a whisper, harsh, accusing. And accusing herself as much as him. She had thrown herself at him, offering herself to the demon whom she’d been determined to see as at least part angel because she needed his help and because his mysterious body aroused the lusts of hers.
    “No,” he agreed. “My ultimate price was determined by the first kiss. I tasted your soul and found it…suitable.”
    “What have I done?” she whispered. “Dear God, what have I done?”
    He shrugged. “You may have saved two kingdoms.”
    She tried to swallow down the lump of tears in her throat, but they wouldn’t go. She could no longer