Dirty Angel (Sainted Sinners #1)

by Vivian Wood

  An hour later, Echo and Rhys were tapped out for the day.

  “I can’t look at another line of tiny Latin text or my eyes will go crossed,” Rhys said, setting aside the dusty book he’d been studying.

  Echo plunked down a scroll with a nod.

  “I feel the same. I’m getting hungry, too.”

  “I usually take my meals with Aeric and Gabriel, but they’ll both be working or patrolling tonight, I think,” Rhys said, looking thoughtful. “How about I have Duverjay bring up something for dinner and we just…”

  He stopped, seeming unable to finish the sentence. Echo realized that Rhys was searching for a the right term, and coming up empty. Though his speech was perfect, almost overly proper at times, she could sense that he still struggled with slang.

  “Hang out?” she suggested with a smirk.

  “Right, yeah,” Rhys said, rolling his eyes.

  Rhys pulled out his cell phone and sent off a series of texts, presumably ordering dinner from Duverjay.

  “Do they not hang out in Scotland?” Echo asked when he’d finished.

  “Not in the mid-seventeen-hundreds, not so much,” Rhys said.

  Echo’s breath caught in her chest.

  “Excuse me?” she demanded, startled by his words. “Are you making a joke?”

  Rhys seemed to realize that he’d blundered, and he had the presence of mind to look a little abashed.

  “Ah. Yeah, I was going to get around to telling you all that,” he said. He jumped up and busied himself with pulling down a projector screen from the ceiling across from the couches.

  “Uhh… when, exactly, were you planning to tell me you’re… what, a time traveling werebear?” Echo asked with a snort, crossing her arms. “Unbelievable luck I have.”

  Rhys shot her a guilty look.

  “I wasn’t really sure how to tell you. It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

  Echo mulled over his words for a moment.

  “I guess you should start by actually telling me your story, not just dropping that bomb on me,” she said.

  Rhys caught her hand and pulled her to the couch. Echo settled in beside him, but not too close. Rhys did funny things to her brain when he touched her, and she needed a clear head for this.

  “It started when I was fourteen, and I began to shift to my bear form,” he told her. “My ma died young, and so it was just me, my father, and my brother. I’m the oldest son.”

  Echo broke her own rule immediately, reaching out and lacing her fingers with his, giving him a quiet bit of encouragement. Rhys traced soft circles against her palm with his thumb as he spoke. lulling her.

  “My brother and I were only a year apart, and we used to buck at one another a lot. My father gave us each a choice, take a tutor and expand our minds, or go out in the lists every day and learn the business of war.” Rhys smiled, perhaps recalling a fond memory. “I chose battle, of course. My brother chose books. When I reached maturity at nineteen, I left my home and went to fight for the King.”

  “What’s the name of your town?” Echo asked.

  “Tighnabruaich,” Rhys said.

  Echo actually giggled at the unpronounceable word.

  “Sorry,” she apologized. “That’s the most Scottish name I’ve ever heard.”

  “Aye,” Rhys agreed, dipping his head to hide a fond smile. “Tis a very Scottish place.”

  “So what happened that brought you here? Or now, I should say?”

  Rhys’s smile faded.

  “My father and brother both died suddenly, mysterious causes. The neighboring laird was greedy, and he took advantage of the lapse in leadership. He wanted to annex Tighnabruaich into his holdings.”

  “And you were still gone?” Echo asked.

  “Aye. Adventuring, as I thought of it. Flirting with women and filling my coffers with gold, all while my clan suffered terribly.”

  Echo winced at the bitter anger in his tone.

  “You didn’t know,” she said.

  “I never should have left. By the time I rode back, Tighnabruaich was in shambles. There were hardly enough men left to protect the women and bairns. We had to pack what we could and run like cowards. It didn’t… I couldn’t save them.”

  Echo’s eyes widened, her heart fluttering.

  “They died?” she gasped.

  “Not quite. They would have, but for the witch.” Rhys caught Echo’s confused look and nodded. “Mere Marie. She offered me the devil’s bargain.”

  “She saved your clan?” Echo asked.

  “Aye, and me brother along with it. I could not turn from the deal.”

  “What exactly did she get in return?” Echo asked, biting her lip.

  “My loyalty and service, until such time as…” Rhys paused, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. He let out a rumble of laughter and shook his head. “No wonder she was so rude to you. She’s going to to lose me as soon as I mark you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Echo said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Not to worry. We’ve got a bit of time before we come to that, I should think,” Rhys said.

  There was a knock at the door, and Duverjay entered with a large serving tray.

  “Thank you, Duverjay, you can leave it on the table,” Rhys said.

  Duverjay did as commanded, shooting Rhys and Echo a curious look, then the butler departed.

  “Should we eat at the table?” Echo asked, peering at the silver-lidded dishes that Duverjay had brought.

  “Actually, I have a better idea,” Rhys said, an unexpected grin lighting his face. “Hold on.”

  He vanished to his bedroom again, returning with a huge plush blanket. He spread it out on the floor in front of the sofas, then gave Echo a questioning glance.

  “Picnic style, huh?” Echo asked with a grin. “Very romantic.”

  Rhys gave her a smile that Echo’s favorite English Literature professor would have called ‘downright gallant’, and her heart fluttered a little. If she had to be cosmically fated for someone, she supposed at least it was someone who looked at her like that.

  Echo nearly rolled her eyes at herself as Rhys went to get the dinner tray. A few flirtatious smiles and a lot of sexual frustration didn’t mean she should just roll over and agree to this fated mate thing. Hell, she still didn’t even think she believed in any of it.

  “Here,” Rhys said, picking up a remote and turning on the projector. A vast list of movie and television choices came up on the screen, and then he turned the remote over to Echo. “Your choice, since I’m so romantic.”

  They settled down on the blanket and Rhys uncovered the dishes. Echo’s mouth instantly began to water when she saw that Duverjay had delivered two perfectly seared filet mignons, plus sautéed mushrooms and grilled asparagus.

  “Ah, I think we’re missing an important component,” Rhys said. “Pick out something to watch, and I’ll be right back.”

  He left the living room and headed out to the landing, presumably going downstairs. Echo flipped through the movies in his queue, surprised to see that had a wildly varying selection. Though there were a lot of recent action flicks, he also had the Harry Potter films on his list, along with a number of older classics.

  Rhys reappeared with two huge wine glasses and a bottle of red wine, looking pleased with himself.

  “Please tell me you like wine,” he said as he settled in next to her.

  Echo laughed.

  “Yeah, of course. I waited tables in college, so I know a little about wine.”

  Rhys looked relieved.

  “I’ve only been on one date since I came to New Orleans, and the girl didn’t drink wine. She only liked amaretto liqueur with sour mix in it.”

  Rhys shuddered, and Echo burst into laughter.

  “That’s horrible,” she said as she accepted a glass from him. She watched him struggle with the wine key for a moment, trying to pull the cork from the bottle. “Here, let me. I’m a pro.”

  Rhys lifted a skeptical bro
w but handed the bottle and corkscrew over. When Echo smoothly uncorked the wine and poured it into their glasses, Rhys gave her an appraising glance.

  “Useful skill,” he said.

  “The worse the day I’ve had, the more useful it gets,” she joked, setting the bottle aside and taking a sip of the wine. It was a bold and fruity Cabernet Sauvignon, and Echo could tell that it was an excellent and expensive vintage.

  “You got this from downstairs?” she asked, surprised.

  “Ah…” Rhys flashed her another devilish grin. “Actually, I nicked it from Gabriel’s rooms. He always has a fully stocked bar in case he brings a girl home.”

  “I can’t judge,” Echo said. “He does have great taste in wine, at least.”

  “It’s a world away from the wines I had back in Tighnabruaich. I always liked wine, but this is so much clearer and smoother,” Rhys said, swirling the Cabernet in his glass. “Did you pick a film?”

  “I saw that Harry Potter was on your list. Have you seen them?” Echo asked.

  “Never.”

  “Oh, well we have to watch it, then.”

  “I’d think a witch would find them too silly,” Rhys said, giving her a speculative glance. “I thought most young witches devoted themselves to hours of magical practice a day, so I figured you wouldn’t like watching something that made light of that.”

  “I like them because they’re silly. Magic wasn’t really something I practiced growing up, so it was still fun for me. Actually… if I were going to be honest, Rhys, I don’t have much control over my powers.”

  Rhys sipped his wine and nodded.

  “I noticed that you seemed unsure of yourself in the fight,” he said. “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.”

  Echo didn’t respond as the movie started, so Rhys dished her up a plate of steak and vegetables without pushing her further. They ate quietly, growing engrossed in the movie and the food. Duverjay’s cooking had been nothing short of excellent since Echo stepped foot on the Manor’s grounds, and this meal did not disappoint.

  After they finished eating, Rhys took the whole tray back to the table and pulled a few oversized pillows off the couch, leaning them against the sofa to create a comfortable spot to lounge.

  Without interrupting to movie, he drew Echo to his side, tucking her in beside him and slinging a brawny arm over her shoulders. She leaned into him instinctively, and the combination of the filling meal and his body warmth lulled her to sleep.

  When she woke, Harry Potter was long over and Rhys was watching a documentary about Martin Luther King Jr., his expression one of intense focus. Echo’s face was buried in Rhys’s neck, the curtain of her hair flowing over them both. Echo was a little embarrassed that she’d clung to him so in her sleep, though it was to be expected. They’d shared a bed for several nights now, and Echo was pretty sure that she and Rhys were entwined most of those sleeping hours.

  Echo allowed herself to take in a few drowsing drags of his wonderful scent before she pulled away, rubbing her face. Thankfully, she hadn’t drooled on him during her steak-induced nap.

  “Uh… hey,” she said, feeling a little sheepish.

  “Hey to you,” Rhys said. Distracted, he turned his head and brushed his lips over Echo’s cheek, close to her ear. A casual enough touch, but Echo was still sleep-addled. Not to mention that her hormones were completely out of whack because of him; currently her gutter-dwelling mind was urging her to discover what his lips felt like on literally any other part of her body.

  Echo stiffened at the touch of his lips, and Rhys dragged his attention away from the movie, looking down at her with a frown of concern. His arm tightened around her shoulders the barest fraction, and their gazes caught and held.

  Echo gazed up at Rhys, curiosity welling in her chest. She licked her lips and lifted her chin the barest inch, and Rhys’s bright green eyes darkened with carnal interest. He shifted and leaned down, surprising her by dropping a second kiss on her cheek, just beside her ear again.

  Then another, his lips brushing her earlobe this time, the soft bristle of his beard teasing her neck. Rhys brought a hand up, fingers cupping the back of her neck, thumb braced against her jaw. He rolled her head back to expose her throat before pressing his nose and lips to her pulse, a deep rumble escaping from his chest.

  His lips and teeth teased her neck at the sensitive spot where it met her shoulder, and Echo’s body truly responded this time. She could feel her breasts tightening with need, nipples drawing to sharp points. Her skin felt too tight, too hot; a gentle throb began to strum low in her body, matching the rising beat of her pulse.

  And yet Rhys had barely touched her. He trailed quick, damp kisses over her neck and shoulder, strong, calloused fingers holding her head in place. Echo let out a pent-up breath and hooked a hand over his shoulder, trying to pull his lips to hers.

  Rhys didn’t give an inch, instead brushing his lips along her jawline from her chin up to her ear. He teased her ear with the tip of his tongue, nipping her earlobe and blowing a gentle breath into her ear, driving her crazy. Echo bit her lip and pressed closer to him, clenching her thighs against the ache growing there.

  Rhys kissed the very corner of her mouth and her lips parted on a sigh. He tightened his grip on her neck, stopping her restless movements as he dragged his bottom lip over hers, then pulled back when she tried to kiss him back.

  “Relax, Echo,” Rhys said. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, blushing at the intense male satisfaction on his face. She wanted him, yes. And he was toying with her, making sure she knew he was in control.

  “Just kiss me,” she demanded, her gaze narrowing to a glare.

  “Mmm,” Rhys murmured, noncommittal. “Patience.”

  He released her instead, shocking her to the core when he grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it up over her head, tossing it aside. He didn’t ask for permission, but his gaze never left her face as he stroked her arms, her hips, her ribs.

  Rhys licked his lower lip as he slid his fingers under her bra straps, pulling and releasing them with a soft snap. Echo’s breathing grew ragged as he skimmed his fingertips over the cups of her bra, and she couldn’t resist arching in to his touch.

  “I want to take this off,” Rhys said, hooking one of the cups with a finger and tugging it away from her body.

  Echo swallowed, raising her chin to issue her challenge.

  “Not unless you kiss me first,” she insisted.

  Rhys grinned, and Echo knew she’d said just the right thing.

  10

  Chapter Ten

  Rhys

  If Rhys had been trying to evoke a response from Echo, he’d succeeded. His sultry blonde would-be mate was stripped down to a filmy pink brassiere, her lips plush and pouty and begging for his kiss. Just this moment, Echo was staring at him with a distinctly hungry look in her eyes, and Rhys was struggling to keep his more primal impulses in check.

  He blamed the lingerie she wore; in his day, women were either fully clothed or completely naked, and as it turned out, there was nothing so enticing as a woman who hovered in between. Though Rhys had seen photos of models in such clothing and had researched modern women’s garments online, seeing Echo in lingerie was infinitely more exciting. He tried not to stare at her brassiere, but the way the thin fabric clung to her body made him want to see what lay under her tightly-fitted jeans.

  He wanted nothing more than to strip her bare, flip her over so her undoubtedly perfect ass was in the air, and fuck her until she was hoarse from screaming his name. If he had ever been this tempted by a lass back in Scotland, he would’ve no doubt already taken her in a dark castle hallway.

  Unfortunately, Echo wasn’t some lusty serving wench. She was modern, first off. Second, she was going to be his mate, and the last thing Rhys wanted was to sour things between them by moving too fast.

  Just because he knew they were going to end up together was no reason for impatience. The lass who would carry his bairn
s deserved the sun and the moon, not some rushed and unsatisfying rutting.

  “Not unless you kiss me first,” she’d fired back as he toyed with her bra.

  Well, if it was a kiss she wanted…

  Rhys slid his hands around Echo’s waist and yanked her closer, dropping his mouth to hers. He waited, his lips a heartbeat from hers, stretching the moment as long as he could. Echo sighed against his lips, her hunger and desire reflecting his exactly. She leaned against him, her bare skin warm against his arms, and her eyes fluttered shut.

  The perfect moment.

  Rhys fused his lips to hers, devouring the soft sound of pleasure that Echo released. Her mouth was everything he could want, so warm and sweet as she welcomed him in. Rhys coaxed her lips with his own, using the kiss to test her responsiveness. Echo met him stroke for stroke, the movement of her clever tongue making his cock throb.

  Rhys slid his hand up her back to her bra, trying not to lose his focus on Echo as he worked out how to unclasp the flimsy silken material. He managed it after a moment, then brought both hands up to her shoulders to draw the straps across her shoulders and down her arms. He watched her face the whole while, enjoying the blush that spread over her cheeks even as the desire in her eyes grew.

  Rhys kissed her deeply once more before he pulled the garment from her body, taking a moment to admire her bared breasts. They were high and full, perfectly round and tipped in dusky rose nipples that made his cock twitch even as his mouth watered.

  Reaching out, Rhys watched Echo’s face as he brushed the pad on his thumb over one pebbled nipple. Her eyes were dark with lust, skin flushed with excitement. She swept her tongue over her lips as she watched him watching her, and Rhys was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to watch her find release, to brand her in an unforgettable way.

  Rhys settled Echo back onto the pillows propped against the couch, bowing her back and thrusting her breasts higher. He slid his hands up from her waist, teasing her ribcage, and shaped her breasts with his hands. The creamy globes were more than a handful each, firm and warm to the touch.