it. "I suppose I'm not, really. God never lets us carry more of a burden than we can. Besides," she arched an eyebrow at him and said with a perfectly straight face, "if some devil gives me trouble, I'll just ask God to turn him into a puddle on the ground."
Adam swallowed and nodded slowly. "I figured it would be something like that."
Chapter 29
"I'll just ask God to turn him into a puddle on the ground." Agonostis snarled and slammed his fist into the horn; the car blared at a lady sitting in front of him who hadn't been doing anything wrong. The light was still red. Agonostis didn't care. He laid on the horn again.
He'd been driving around ever since he had dropped Dayne off at her apartment, trying to think of some way to shatter her faith. She liked him; he knew she liked him. She wanted him—of course. What woman wouldn't? He knew how to play the game—he could make himself into the man of every woman's dreams (or the woman of every woman's dreams, for that matter, but he preferred the state of maleness). Nice girls had to be played differently than sluts—different bait for different fish, he thought. For a nice girl, he had to give every appearance of taking his time, of being interested in her as a person, in wanting to spend time with her that wasn't related to sex. He knew he was playing Dayne right. He'd gotten the conversation back on track, and made a date with her for the next evening . . . and when he had, he'd seen her whole face light up. He had her, dammit. She wanted him.
But could he make her want him enough to sell her soul for him? He'd been sure before, but now he had his doubts.
Just getting her into bed wouldn't count. That wasn't a Hellfire offense. He wished it were—he would have had numbers beyond belief if he'd gotten two souls every time two people who weren't married got laid. It was their intent . . . .
He doubted he could get her to try to get knocked up just to get him to marry her. That was a damnable sin, but she didn't seem to be enough of a liar or a o