There Is No Devil Sinners Duet Book 2 By Sophie Lark-pdfread

extraordinarily effective nonetheless because of his sly wit and his intense
focus upon the person with whom we’re speaking.
At a dinner at Betsy Voss’ house, Cole sets the whole table roaring with an
anecdote from art school.
Afterward I say to him, “I’ve never seen you like that. You had the whole
room eating out of your hand.”
Cole looks at me, pushing back his fall of dark hair with one hand.
“I only told that story for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You looked bored. Something inside me whispered, ‘Say something funny.
Make her laugh.’ ”
This touches me in the strangest way.
Cole and I had just spent the whole day together and fucked in the car on the
way to the party. The fact that he still felt compelled to entertain me is
ridiculously flattering.
The Siren prints a photo of us climbing out of Cole’s car, Cole holding the
door open for me, dark and moody-looking with his long black coat swept
back by the wind, and me with my hair in a maelstrom, my sparkly mini dress
glinting like a disco ball, my head thrown back in laughter as the gust tries to
take me away.
The caption reads: The Crown Prince and Princess of the Art World.
Below that, a brief article talking about Cole’s half-built sculpture in Corona
Heights Park, and my upcoming show. The photograph shows one of my
paintings, not Cole’s work.
It’s Cole who shows me the magazine, our glossy image looking far too
glamorous to be anyone I know.
I glance up at his face, wondering if it bothers him that they talked more
about my show than his sculpture.
“I’m sure they’ll write about you again when the maze is finished,” I say.