“I can’t believe he’s out here again,” Elise mutters under her breath. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Elise is hard to take on most days.

I’ve not minded my exile into self-denial of all things wonderful—I mean not really. I’ve missed things. I’ve missed my home. I’ve missed a good cold Sangria, I’ve missed talking with my girls, and I’ve definitely missed sex. Then again, I’m a normal twenty-six-year-old woman who really, really liked sex—not that I got to have it that much. When your father threatens to kill a man for touching his only daughter, it tends to slow the flow of willing partners. There’s not that many men willing to take on a man who looks like like my dad, especially if he has a reputation to back it all up.

All that said, if I had to pinpoint the one thing that annoys me most about this situation, it would be putting up with Elise. That’s saying a lot, especially since there are days that I crave going out for hot nachos and Cherry Coke or, better yet, a strawberry daiquiri, or heck, even the option to walk around naked in my bedroom and paint my nails. There’s also days I’d kill to just dye my hair. I did that regularly in my old life. The life I was forced to leave three very long months ago. I’ve done it because Dad and Wolf asked me to. I did it because my father might be a cold-hearted bastard to most people, but he loves me. He’d die for me in a heartbeat—and I don’t want him to die. I also did it because my father will kill for me in heartbeat—and has. If I think about the men he’s killed while I’ve been in exile, I’d probably have to go for penance a lot more often than I do.

Still, when I agreed to go somewhere safe, I didn’t realize what my father meant. I pictured a luxurious apartment with a pool and a gym. I pictured a cabin in Alaska with a roaring fire and a sexy wilderness guide. Hell, I even began daydreaming about an island with a sexy cabana boy, wearing loose, white pants that swayed in the breeze and showed off his rather large attributes as he stood over my lounger, fanning me with a large palm leaf.

Nowhere—and I do mean nowhere—did I picture myself pledging myself to the Lord and not being able to wear what I want, speak how I want, or even freaking eat like I want. I realize I probably sound like a petulant child, but at this point I don’t give a damn. I sigh as I look around the picnic area, wondering if somehow anyone can read my thoughts and I’ll need to say penance for those too. Elise keeps droning on and on and I’m resisting the urge to shut her up—by throat punching her and fixing it so she can’t talk. I think I’d probably be doing everyone in here a favor at this point.

I might be tuning her out, but the subject of her whining hasn’t left my mind at all. I pretend to be uninterested, but I do look over Elise’s shoulder to see Devil in the background.

He’s leaning on his bike, his arms crossed at his chest. He looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but I know that’s not true. He’s been staring in my direction for the last ten minutes. I can feel the intensity of it, even at a distance. He’s been doing this at least twice a week for the last month and a half… ever since I met him buying condoms at K-Mart. The thought makes me want to smile, but Elise is watching me too closely so I push a spoonful of cereal in my mouth to hide it.

It sounds like I’m full of myself, but I’m pretty sure he’s here to see me each day. It’s taken effort not to go over to him and ask. Being quiet and naïve is not who I am. Not asking someone outright what I want to know goes against my personality. At first I worried he was one of Dad’s enemies, but the more I see him, I’m thinking it’s not true. The fact he’s a biker is just a coincidence…

Which is more than a little scary.

“I’m going to report him to Mother Lisa,” Elise announces and those words I hear—those I don’t blot out.

“You will not,” I respond and my voice is as cold as steel. I’ve played under the radar and I’ve never drawn attention to myself, so the change in my voice and demeanor is something that can’t be missed. Perhaps that’s the reason everyone around us goes silent.

“Tori—”

“You will mind your own damn business,” I order and I ignore the gasps from the other girls. “And if you so much as breathe about him to any of the others I will make you regret the day you drew your first breath.”

“You can’t do—”

“You don’t know anything about my life before I came here, Elise. Trust me when I tell you that I can and I will.”

Elise goes visibly pale. I am my father’s child, and I think she can see that in my face—or at least sense it. Maybe she’s not as stupid as I gave her credit for. I’m mad. I’m so seriously pissed off right now that I don’t have words to describe it. Only I’m not mad at Elise. I’m mad at myself. I have no idea why I reacted that way. Sure, I hate Elise, but I’m here for a reason and showing my ass over a man I don’t even know does nothing to help my situation. I push my food away in irritation.

I look up to see everyone staring at me. I cross my arms at my chest and put on my favorite fuck-you face and wait. They all nervously look away and begin eating. Eventually they begin talking again about the charity bake sale the convent is hosting later in the week. In the background I can hear the roaring of a bike, the pipes raking. I look up, even after telling myself not to. Devil is straddling his bike, revving up the motor and he’s looking over his shoulder…

Directly at me.

Our eyes lock and then I watch as he puts on his shades, turns and takes off.

Damn… I think I’m in trouble.