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unnaturally deep green eyes. They sparkled with pleasure and delight, as if she were truly pleased to see him, and tangled his gut into a fierce mix of wariness and attraction.
    Dressed in nothing more than a short black silk nightgown that dangled by miniscule strips of black satin ribbon over her bare shoulders, she—it, he reminded himself—was showing more skin than he’d ever seen of a woman outside of the sheets. Her long, bare legs were so creamy smooth he bet silk would be jealous. A seductive, knowing curve shaped her full lips into a come-hither smile that could bring any man to his knees.
    “Aren’t you just a tall drink of water?” As if the sight of her weren’t enough, the low, husky quality of her voice danced across his skin, making him hot and hard at the same time. “What’s your pleasure, cowboy? I assume you summoned me for a reason.”
    Colt struggled to collect enough moisture in his mouth to get his tongue to work properly. “I want you to open a door for me.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to cover it.
    Her eyes grew half-shuttered, the emerald color still unnaturally bright through the fan of her thick, sable lashes. “A man as strong as you could open any door for himself, I’m sure.” She stepped forward and met with an invisible barrier, then glanced down at the lines he’d drawn in the dirt. “The circle only lasts until daybreak. Then what?” Her long, tapered fingers skimmed along the barrier, depressing the pads of her fingertips, as if it were glass.
    The momentary break in her gaze on him snapped some sense into Colt. He wasn’t going to take the chance that Marley was wrong about that circle holding a demon. He leveled his revolver at her. The metallic click of it cocking sounded louder than it should have in the air between them, but then Colt wasn’t packing just any ordinary revolver. It was a Hunter model designed special for his pa by Samuel Colt himself, and the very gun he’d been named after.
    The demon eyed the gun, caution flickering across her features. “You’re a Hunter, aren’t you?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    The corner of her mouth rose higher in delight. “A polite one.”
    “Yes, m—” Colt caught himself. She was already wrapping her charm or spell or whatever the hell it was around him again. He glanced away, deliberately trying to keep her from getting a hold on his common sense.
    “You just want me to open a door? That’s an odd request, coming from a Hunter.” She crisscrossed her arms around her narrow waist, which made her breasts press together, drawing his attention to the dark shadow between them. “Why do you really need me?” Her voice drizzled like warm honey over him, smooth and sweet, and oh so tempting. Damn. Perhaps he should have covered his ears too.
    “Only a demon can open the door,” he replied. He refused to make eye contact with her now or look at how the firelight danced across her pale skin. He focused instead on the flicker of the candle flames that marked the edges of the circle.
    “Ah. So you want me to unlock this door for you?”
    “Yes.”
    “And what will I get out of it?”
    Colt moved on instinct, flicking his gaze upward, cocking and pointing the barrel of his gun at the center of her forehead in the same instant. “How about I don’t blow your sweet ass back to Hell right here, right now?”
    Her eyes turned hard, assessing, taking in the measure of him like he was a raw chunk of gold and estimating what he’d be worth. “Tsk, tsk. No need to be rude. After all, you are the one who summoned me . And as a Hunter, surely you know no demon works for free. There’s always a price.”
    Colt hesitated. “What do you want?”
    The demon paused, dropping her lashes just a fraction and looking at him in a way that oozed sexual appeal. “A kiss.”
    “That’s it?”
    “A kiss for opening the door,” she amended, her full lips opening just a fraction, drawing his attention and filling his