Satan Read Online Free Page B

top of the other and braced her rear on a cabinet. “Just who are you, Lorcan McGuillycuddy? And how do you know Jess?”
    “Jess’s husband and I work together. How do you know her?” Satan did not allow strangers to interrogate him. Regret and irritation had him backpedaling and contemplating how to get out of their tentative agreement to spend four days fucking.
    “I work for a foundation that targets ISIS activists who try to recruit teenagers. Jess agreed to do our PR. Aside from my colleagues, she’s the only friend I’ve made since moving to the U.S.”
    Satan’s jaw sagged. He’d never expected Angelica’s declaration. With her looks and astounding body, he figured her for a model or an aspiring actress. “How’d you get involved with the foundation?”
    Her rosy cheeks paled and a muscle in her cheek twitched. All her vigor evaporated. “My brother is—was an ISIS recruit.”
    Fuck. He turned off the spigot, switched on the burner, marched over to her, and hauled her into his arms. “That’s horrible, Angelica.”
    “It is.” Her voice was muffled because she buried her face in his chest. “It’s terribly horrible.”
    He tipped her chin up to assess her state of mind. Anger glinted from her powder blues. “Is that why you’re in the U.S.? Because of this foundation?”
    “Yes. There are more families here with sons in ISIS than even in Trinidad. We have a large Muslim population.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to go down this road right now. I’ll dig in the fridge and see if I can find enough ingredients to fix a salad.”
    Satan studied her wan expression, nodded, and kissed her forehead. “Done. The fridge is all yours. I know I have bread, but there may be rolls too. The frozen kind.”
    “You’re a total fraud—you can cook.” Angelica had her head in the fridge and her pert rump in the air.
    “Correction, woman, I can assemble an already prepared meal.” Satan checked the microwave clock. “You do realize it’s near midnight. Are you going to get enough sleep for your ten o’clock meeting?”
    Armed with a head of Romaine lettuce, a container of cherry tomatoes, one red onion, and a bottle of olives, she flashed him a rueful grin. “These days I average maybe five hours of sleep a night. If I’m lucky. I operate fine on two or three.”
    Satan snorted. What were the odds? Of two insomniacs in a temporary fucking relationship? The good news was that when they couldn’t sleep, there were tons of sexual options.
    He rummaged in the bread box and discovered fresh rolls. Jess must have brought them earlier, acting on Destiny’s orders, of course. He threw the bread into a bowl, popped the dish into the microwave, and pressed Warm . “I don’t sleep much either. Is your move to New York temporary?”
    In the middle of situating her salad fixings for cutting, she didn’t glance his way, but he noticed the tight set of her mouth. “As of this moment, yes. I have dual citizenship, my mom was born here. My dad was the Trini.”
    Was. Her parents were dead. As was her brother. Did she have other family? Too much of a coincidence for the both of them to be all alone in the world.
    “It’s a ruggedly beautiful island.” Satan had visited the sixty by forty twin island nation of Trinidad and Tobago a couple of times. On the most recent occasion, one of his clients had given him a tour of the North Coast, and he’d been surprised by the mountains and the dense jungle forestation.
    “You’ve been to Trinidad?” He smiled at her quirked brows and obvious surprise. “When?”
    “Twice. First time was in the 90s, and I was there briefly last year.” Satan lifted the lid off the pot and checked the water. Rumbling but not at a full boil, so he set the stove’s timer for twenty-five minutes.
    “What did you think of my homeland?” She’d halved the cherry tomatoes, sliced the onion, and now worked on the lettuce.
    Their stares collided. “It’s beautiful, there’s