“Come on now, is that the way to greet your husband in the morning?” He opened his translucent arms and floated closer.
“My ex-husband,” Lara growled, grinding her teeth together.
“You and I both know the divorce was never finalized.” His mouth twisted. “I died first.”
“That was an accident.” Lara narrowed her eyes as he sat on the bed, his body then a solid form.
“An accident is one time, love.” He reached out and captured her chin between his fingers, pinching. His eyes glowed black. “How many times did you stab me?”
“Not enough, apparently.” Lara jerked her chin free of his icy grip.
Laughing, Milo scooted back, reclining beside her on the bed. He tucked his arms behind his head.
“How did it go?” He kept his gaze on the empty doorway.
“Fine.” She knew what he was asking but was irritated he woke her so early. If she was going to be annoyed, he should suffer too.
“Just fine?” The muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Yes.”
“You know what I'm asking!” he roared, his frustration echoed around the room.
“Do I?” She blinked her eyelashes at him. Milo's hand whipped out; his cold fingers closed around her throat. A tremor rolled through her body, the same reaction she had every time Milo touched her.
“Did James propose?” He enunciated each word.
Lara nodded, licking her lips. Milo released his grip, and she leaned over. Reaching into her purse, she withdrew a small black box, which she set on the bed between herself and Milo.
“Open it.”
He glanced down at the box. “Is it nicer than the one I gave you?”
“No.” Her mouth pulled into a frown. Even in death Milo’s arrogance was insufferable.
“Why aren’t you wearing it?” he asked, lifting his eerie gaze to hers.
“I told him I needed to think about it.”
“What is there to think about?”
“Two people have died! I’ve been under investigation twice.”
“Necessary sacrifices.” Milo waved his arm, dismissing her fear. “Neither of them was strong enough to withstand the merge with my soul.”
“What makes you think James can?” she asked as she lifted the black box and pried open the lid.
A tiny diamond ring sparkled in a sunbeam streaming through the gap in the curtains. Poor James, it must have cost him his entire savings. She almost told him no when he dropped to his knees last night, but as he stared up at her, hope shining in his wide chocolate eyes, her heart ached. She couldn’t say the word...
James didn't deserve that fate, none of her fiancés had, but Milo was relentless.
“He is a little bigger than the others, more muscular, he’ll be a perfect receptacle.” Milo’s hand wrapped around her wrist, his frigid fingers dug into her skin, pulling the ring toward him. “Did you screw him yet?”
“That's none of your business.” Lara jerked away from him and slammed the lid shut on the tiny box. She climbed from the bed and spun around, jabbing her finger in Milo's direction. “I'm breaking it off with James.”
“Do you have a better candidate?” Milo's voice dropped to a menacing growl. His eyes flicked to her finger.
“I do not.” Lara folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him.
Milo vanished; an icy breeze swirled around Lara. Behind her, the curtains twitched aside revealing a line of sunflowers growing along the fence.
“Have you forgotten our deal?” He appeared beside her, grabbed her arm, and twisted her around. Shoving her forehead against the window, he pressed his hips into her back, his lips brushing over her ear. “You took my life, buried me right down there beneath that third sunflower. You owe me repayment for that debt.”
“What if James dies?” Lara asked, struggling against his supernatural strength.
“Then you bring me another body, and another, and another. You bring me as many as it takes to replace what you stole from me.” He released her with a snarl.
“You were going to kill me.” Lara scooted away from him, darting toward the doorway.
“But you beat me to that happy task, didn't you?” His mouth twisted into a horrific grin, and, floating closer, he reached out and trailed one finger down her arm. “I never thought you had it in you.”
“Take me instead of James.” She jutted out her chin. “You want a body, I volunteer.”
“I want to be a man.” His eyes narrowed.
“And I want you to go to hell, but we both can't get what we want.”
“Either bring me James or I dig up my skeleton and leave it on the fence for the police to find.” His irritation filled the room. “You'll spend the rest of your life in prison.”
A tiny smile flitted across Lara's face.
“I can see your mind working.” Milo leaned in, his voice soft. “If you go to jail, so do I. I'll follow you anywhere. I'll be your constant companion in that tiny little cell, just you and me and four tight walls.”
Lara's shoulders slumped. She'd never be free of Milo, not unless she gave him what he wanted... his life back. She hoped he didn't assume that new life included her. Once he was corporeal, she was gone. Let him try to find her without his paranormal talents.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Call James. Accept his proposal and invite him over.” Milo tilted his head, his black eyes sweeping over Lara. “And change into something a bit more suitable to meet your fiancé. I doubt he’ll find sweatpants attractive.”
“I don’t wear them because of him.” She snapped and twisted away as a sharp pain sliced through her heart.
James was kind, gentle, the type of person to stop traffic to rescue a stranded squirrel. He didn't stand a chance against Milo's strength. She sniffed, discreetly dabbing a tear, and shuffled over to an abused chest of drawers. Her gaze dropped to a small framed black and white photo of her parents on their wedding day. Guilt ebbed through her body.
It was difficult enough convincing a man to fall in love with her, but not feeling something in return... She was failing miserably.
Milo laughed at her and called her compassion human weakness. That was the hidden side of Milo, the part that no one saw. He held no regard for any man's—or woman's, for that matter—life.
She glanced over at him. “I need to change.”
“Go ahead.” Milo's eyes blazed, their inky color glowing with desire.
“I want you to leave.”
Milo made a show of contemplating her request, grasping his chin, tapping his finger on his lips, and pacing around the room.
“I politely decline.” He spread his arms wide and bowed. When he lifted his head, darkness raged across his face. “I want to see my wife's body, I want to touch it, to taste it.”
“I'm a widow, I have no husband.” She would have sounded more confident had her voice not cracked on the last word.
Milo smirked, floating closer. Shuddering, she crossed her arms over her chest, and backed into the dresser.
“Yes, you had me declared legally dead. A boating accident.” He tapped the side of her head, she flinched, her eyes locked on his. “I taught you well.”