Red Demon by Deidre Knight Page A

inside his mind—the one whispering that Juliana was alive, here, back in his life. Really, it might’ve been the wicked hard-on he’d developed just from staring at the woman, his body reacting as if they’d never spent time apart. As if time didn’t exist at all.
    Whatever the cause—the roiling heat in his body, the ache in his groin—all of it coalesced in a heartbeat. He stormed toward Juliana, furious. “What happened to ending it all?” he shouted. “What happened to leaving me?” Then, lowering his voice into a seething, livid tone, he asked, “What happened to you being dead ?”
    He was furious, off the chain without a moment’s warning. His entire body shook just like the windowpanes currently did from the gale- force winds raging outside. She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off, raising his voice over the riotous buzzing noise inside his head.
    “No, I don’t believe Juliana would’ve changed her mind about that,” he said coldly. “She made a final decision, and it didn’t include spending another moment near me. I was so repulsive, she had to leap into the Savannah River during one of the worst recorded hurricanes in history.”
    He pointed toward his large bedroom windows, the ones that overlooked the farm’s sweeping pasture. They groaned as if to underscore his fury. “Speaking of which, maybe you could try for a repeat performance. We’re in for another whopper of a storm this week.”
    She shivered visibly, casting an anxious glance toward the panes, but he seized both of her thin, strong arms. “You see, we were in love. But my love . . . was a poison for her. I was a poison that drove her to suicide.”
    Tears brimmed in her eyes as she let him throttle her like some rag doll. “Why won’t you fight?” he growled bitterly. “Slap me. Denounce me. Fight back!”
    She began to cry, her delicate shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that . . . you don’t understand. I have to explain, have to understand what happened myself. No matter how hard I try, I can’t remember. But there is one fact, Aristos. One unwavering truth—I loved you. I still do. . . . I have always loved you.”
    He yanked her flush against his body, pinning his left forearm across her back, preventing her potential escape. “What are you, woman? Some kind of demon?” he demanded hotly. “A ghost?” He cupped her jaw roughly, forcing her to look up into his eyes. “You can’t possibly be the same Juliana I once knew. So you tell me right now. What are you, and who sent you here?”
    He knew he was being brutal, handling her as if she were a soldier, not the sophisticated, beautiful woman she’d made herself appear to be. Then again, whatever she actually was, it sure as hell wasn’t delicate. It probably possessed horns and fangs and scales when in its true form; he’d lay honest money on that. He tightened his hold on her jaw, shoving her back against the wall, pinning her there by the collarbone.
    “Aristos,” she whimpered, squirming beneath his harsh grip. “You’re hurting me. Please. Please, just let me explain.”
    He sniffed at the air, expecting the scent of sulfur or decay, but swore he caught only the fragrance of jasmine. “Stop with the crap,” he insisted, sliding his hand lower beneath her chin, keeping her face tilted upward. “Stop with the lies, creature. Reveal your true self. Now .”
    She blinked up at him, and his heart clenched with a painful sensation. Those haunting, alluring eyes. Oh, by the very Highest God, he’d never forgotten them. Whatever this entity was, it was doing a marvelous job of mimicking his Juliana. His very dead, forever-lost-to-him, ghostly Juliana.
    He gave his head a shake, dropping his hand from her chin. “Do you have any idea what I’m capable of? What me and my kind do to the likes of something like you? I’ll give you kudos. . . . You’ve sure got a whopping pair on you.” He forced a laugh. “I’m betting you’re