“Demons don’t marry like humans do,” he said. “We do form lasting relationships—it’s just that there’s no formal acknowledgment of them. So, while we don’t actually marry, it would be accurate in human terms to think of Delilah as my wife.”

“Okay,” I said, giving him a keep talking gesture, which he probably didn’t see, since he still wasn’t looking at me.

His voice dropped until it was so low I had to lean forward to hear him. “What usually happens eventually when a man and a woman marry?”

It shows the frame of mind I was in that I didn’t even consider some kind of smart-ass quip. “They have children,” I answered, and Lugh nodded. I continued the thought. “But if you had a child with Delilah, you would have contributed a hell of a lot more energy than Raphael did.”

He nodded again. “It would have been the only honorable thing to do. Besides, I wouldn’t have wanted to risk hurting her.”

And now the lightbulb finally turned on over my head. “And how long would you have been … depleted?” I remembered Adam saying something about centuries, but it was hard to believe.

“Believe it,” Lugh said. “If Delilah and I had had a child, I would still be … very weak. It’s virtually impossible for demons to kill one another in the Demon Realm—unless there’s a huge disparity in power. I’d have handed Dougal the opportunity he needed to destroy me, and he would now be sitting on the demon throne as king, rather than regent.”

I chewed that over for a while. “So you think even back then, Raphael knew that Dougal was going to make a try for the throne?”

Lugh nodded. “He even warned me of it, though of course I didn’t listen. I thought he was just trying to stir up trouble. As much as Dougal and I have disagreed on political issues, I never believed he would try to take the throne.”

As you may have gathered by now, I am not the most sensitive, compassionate woman in the world. But even I could tell that Lugh was hurt and bewildered by it. For all that we’d talked about defensive strategies and plans to right the wrong, we’d never talked about how Lugh felt when his brother betrayed him. I knew how awful it had felt when my best friend had betrayed me and tried to have me killed. How much worse would it be if it had been my brother?

Once again, Lugh didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know my thoughts. “I am more disillusioned than hurt,” he said. “Dougal and I have never been close, so I don’t take his attack personally.”

“Huh. You know how you always get on my case for lying to myself? Well, I don’t have to be a demon in control of your body to recognize it when I see it.”

Lugh actually winced. “I am a king. My feelings are irrelevant.”

I wasn’t sure I followed his logic, but I didn’t much care. I did the unthinkable and moved a little closer to him on the couch, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm. “Your feelings aren’t irrelevant to me.”

As soon as I said it, I wished I could suck the words back in. What kind of an idiot says something like that to a man she’s trying to hold at arm’s length? Never mind that with him in my body, I couldn’t actually do it.

I moved away from him with a little groan, and I covered my eyes with my hand as I cursed myself. Maybe I should take lying lessons from Raphael. I was pretty sure that part of being a good liar was knowing when to keep your mouth shut. And, of course, the poker face I didn’t have.

Lugh chuckled. “Lying to me would do you no good.” He drew my hand away from my eyes. I made the mistake of meeting his gaze and found I couldn’t look away.

“You can’t hold me at arm’s length, Morgan. And you can’t lead me on. What you choose to say doesn’t matter.” His voice gentled even further. “You can’t choose what to feel, either. Life would be very much easier if we could direct our feelings, but even demons can’t do that.”

My pulse quickened, and there was a pleasant fluttery feeling in my belly. He hadn’t let go of my hand, and I was suddenly intensely aware of the warmth of his skin against mine. I swallowed hard.

In the World According to Morgan Kingsley, the fact that I was in love with Brian should have deadened my sexual attraction to every other male of the species. Sure, I could find them pleasing to look at. I could even entertain a fantasy or two. But I shouldn’t want them, not the way I wanted Lugh.

“Feelings don’t respond to ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t,’” Lugh reminded me.

“God damn it!” I said, finding the will to yank my hand from his grip. “Stop responding to my thoughts! Can’t you at least give me the illusion of privacy?”

He raised one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “That would be a form of deception.”

I snorted. As far as I could tell, Lugh had never outright lied to me, but he was perfectly capable of deceiving me. “So what?”

“So that deception would serve no purpose except to anger you when you find yourself believing the illusion.”

Against my better judgment, I liked Lugh. But at times like these, I’d have happily strangled him.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” he continued, “that the reason you’re so attracted to me is precisely because your mind is completely open to me? I know your thoughts, your feelings, your fantasies, your secrets. And knowing all that, I still want you.”

I jerked awake. It was the first time in a long while I had woken up from one of Lugh’s dreams without making a conscious effort. I sat up abruptly in bed, my skin clammy as I shivered in the air-conditioned chill of my apartment. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Lugh’s words echoed in my mind, repeating endlessly. I wanted to shut the words out, to force my mind away from them. Because Lugh, damn him to hell, had struck at what he knew was a weakness in my emotional armor.

To the outside world, I came off as bold, confident, even cocky. But I carry around a hell of a lot of baggage, and it’s stuffed to bursting with insecurity and self-doubt. That baggage kept me from fully committing to—or opening up to—Brian. I couldn’t help being terrified of what Brian would think of me if he really knew me, couldn’t help fearing that he would eventually wise up and discover that he was too good for me.

“That was a low blow, Lugh,” I muttered to the empty room. Yeah, maybe Lugh knew what was in all that baggage I carried around, and yeah, in some ways that made him “safer” than any human being could ever be. But it was Brian I loved, Brian I needed. And to prove this to myself—or maybe to Lugh—I picked up the phone and dialed Brian’s number, even though it was the middle of the night. I begged him to come over and fuck me senseless, and, being a guy, this was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

My only excuse for not thinking this decision through was… Well, that I wasn’t thinking at all.

Brian was deliciously tousled when he came over, and I jumped him practically the moment he walked in the door. He was happy to oblige me, and soon his jeans and my pajama bottoms had been tossed aside and I was pinned to the wall.

Our physical chemistry has always been one of the best facets of our relationship. The bliss of his body pressed against mine, of his cock deep inside me, of his tongue thrusting into my mouth, banished all thoughts of Lugh. I was reduced to a collection of nerve endings, losing myself in the physical pleasure, and in the feeling of rightness that always pervaded me when Brian and I were locked together.

Ever the gentleman, Brian waited until I came before he let his own pleasure explode. When it was over, we were both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. My legs were wrapped around his hips, my arms around his neck, and I allowed my head to sag to his shoulder.

He recovered faster than I did, and, with me still wrapped around him like a clinging monkey, he carried me to my bedroom. I was on the verge of starting to think again, but Brian saved me from that horror by pulling my pajama top up over my head and then removing his own T-shirt. His naked bod put all thoughts other than “I want” out of my head.