Free Temptation, Chronicles of the Fallen, Book 3 by Brenda Huber Page A

Really?”
    The sensual playfulness drained from his features. He was all business now. “Feel it? Feel what?”
    She chewed on the inside edge of her lip. How much should she tell him? How much would it take to get him to trust her, to let her go?
    “I can feel evil, and good. I can feel when someone intends harm. It’s like a…a sixth sense.” She snapped her wrists against the restraints. “Though, obviously, it isn’t always…reliable.”
    “Then you know I don’t intend to hurt you.” Statement, not question, as he ignored her less than subtle reminder. Why wasn’t he questioning her honesty? Why wasn’t he doubting her claim? Or her sanity?
    And then a deeper truth hit her. He was right. Unless her instincts were wrong yet again. He did not intend her any harm.
    But he also claimed to be demon. Yet he didn’t feel like a demon.
    Why couldn’t she read him like she could all the others?
    She pressed, “If you don’t intend to harm me, then why tie me up?”
    “Because you needed to calm down long enough for me to talk to you. And because you need to stay here. With me. For your own safety. I need to know you’re not going to try to sneak off on your own.”
    “Why? Why do I need to stay with you?”
    “I’ve been charged with protecting you. For the time being, at least.”
    “Protect me? From what?” What’s Michael up to now?
    “Look, I’ll tell you everything. But it’ll help me to know what you know so I know where to start.”
    She blinked at him. Was this a trick?
    Instincts. It all came down to her instincts. And, as with earlier at the nightclub, her instincts were telling her she could trust him, abduction and restraints notwithstanding.
    “I know who, and what, Michael is,” she finally allowed, grudgingly.
    “And do you know what you are?”
    Puzzled, she frowned at him. “Of course I do. I’m Maggie.”
    “I said what, not who. You are a Halfling.”
    “Oh, that,” she said flatly. She vaguely recalled Michael mentioning that term. But she’d been too dazed by his sudden appearance and declaration to pay much attention. Add to it the stunning moment he’d laid his hands upon her head and the wall of dizzying heat that had slammed into her like a freight train and, well, scientific—or biblical—names just hadn’t ranked up there on her list of details to make note of.
    “So you know you’re a Halfling, and that your fath—Michael,” he quickly amended when her eyes narrowed, “is an angel. Like you, I have special…gifts. I sense power. And you’re near to bursting at the seams with it. Yet you still refuse to believe I’m a demon?”
    “Correct. You don’t give off the same vibe as the other demons I’ve come across.”
    “Are you trying to insult my manhood?” His words were obviously meant in a joking fashion, yet there was a definite spark of curiosity there.
    “Show me then. I’ve seen a demon transform before, from a distance, of course.” She was lying through her teeth, but he didn’t need to know that. “If you’re really a demon, then transform. Show me what you really are.”
    His expression was comical. He looked utterly horrified, and yet, much as he might try to hide it, just the slightest bit tempted.
    “No.” Gideon rubbed his palms up and down his thighs, as if they’d begun to sweat. He shook his head and pushed from the chair to tower over her. And yet, agitated as he was, she still sensed no threat from him. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned.
    “Sure I do. I know you’ll get bigger. And scary looking—”
    “Scary looking?” Gideon huffed out a mirthless laugh as he paced away, paced back. “You don’t know the half of it. I won’t change for you because I’ll—” He broke off. Color suffused his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? Angry? It was a simple request. Why did he look like he was about to freak out?
    He raked a hand through his already messy hair and admitted, “I can’t control that