by Nina Croft
It wasn’t until she was in the helicopter that she’d lost it.
“Are you okay?” Stupid question; it was obvious she wasn’t okay.
She shook her head. Swallowed. Took a deep breath. “I’m scared of heights.”
Ah. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t give me a freaking chance—just tossed me in that tin box, then tried to kill me.”
A smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t allow it to show on his face. He had an idea smiling would not be good right now. “You never used to be scared of heights.” She’d never been scared of anything.
Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, that was before someone decided to toss me off a high building.”
Oh, God. He’d forgotten. “I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t start apologizing again.” She took a deep breath, blew it out, then smiled. “I’m alive. That’s good. But I have no idea where I am.” That was because she’d spent to whole trip with her eyes clamped shut. Now she peered around. “Where am I?”
“The city, in the Stormlord Securities building,” he said, shrugging out of his long leather coat and tossing it on the back of the cream sofa. “We keep an apartment here for visitors.”
She studied him, head cocked to one side. “You live here? In the building, I mean.”
“Some of the time. I have a place two floors down.”
She wandered around, moved the curtains and peered out, then quickly backed away. “You couldn’t have had an apartment on the ground floor?”
He ignored the comment. “There’s a kitchen. I asked Bella if she’d sort out some food and stuff. Are you hungry?”
She thought for a moment. “No.”
“Thirsty?”
“I could murder for a vodka and tonic.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He’d get her one if he had to head out to the supermarket himself. But when he opened the fridge, it was well stocked. He found a bottle of Grey Goose and a tonic. He poured her a strong one—not that he was trying to get her pissed or anything, but she did look like she needed a good dose. Ice from the freezer, a slice of lemon—he wanted it perfect. He grabbed a beer for himself and took her drink to her. She’d kicked off her shoes and sat down on the sofa, her feet curled under her.
He handed her the drink, and she took a long gulp. “That is so good.” She emptied the glass and held it out to him. He took it back to the kitchen, made another, thought momentarily about making it weaker this time, but then thought what the hell? She needed to relax. She’d had a fright.
This time she sipped the drink. He took a seat in the opposite corner and shifted so he could watch her. She was still wearing the white gown from the service but had lost the scarf thing somewhere along the way. “What made you become a vicar?” he asked.
She scowled. “Why? Because it’s so different from what I was before? Actually, I’ve been many things. I was a nun once. In the middle ages.” A shudder ran through her. “I made a crap nun. They expect you to do as you’re told, and I was never good at that.”
“I remember.” He suspected she still wasn’t.
She sniffed. “I usually did what you told me and look where that got me. But as to the vicar thing.” She swirled her glass, took a sip before answering. “I always believed in God, unlike the rest of my family, and I wanted to do something important with my life.”
“And is it working out for you?”
She stared away from him for a few seconds, then looked back, a small frown between her brows. “The longer I live, the more I’ve come to believe that maybe God isn’t that interested in most of what we do. We put too much importance on pleasing God when we should be helping each other.”
“You’re very wise.”
“Hah. Flattery will get you...” She looked away again.
What would flattery get him? Christ, he wanted her. So badly it was an ache in his chest. To be this close. Maybe as Torr had said, he needed to push their relationship along. Make her remember how things had been between them before everything went wrong.
“What about you?” she asked. “What do you do?”
“I work for the company. We do all sorts of security work. Training and providing bodyguards, security for functions and for companies that have to work in dangerous parts of the world. We have a kidnap and ransom section. I’m pretty much in charge of recruitment.”
“The men who came with you that first day. They work here?”
“Yes. They’re my best.”
She swallowed the last of her vodka and got to her feet. “Bathroom?”
He waved a hand to a door. “Through the bedroom and opposite.”
She left the bedroom door open, but he heard the click as the bathroom door closed behind her and then running water. She seemed to be gone an age. When she came back she’d lost the white robe and wore a loose-fitting black dress that hid her curves and came to nearly the floor. She’d also loosened her hair so it hung in dark-red waves down to her shoulders. The flush had gone, leaving her pale again. And she was fidgeting with her hands. “It’s late,” she said.
It wasn’t that late, and he didn’t want to go.
“I have a service in the morning,” she reminded him. “Eight o’clock.”
“I’ll get you there.”
“I’d prefer not to fly,” she said quickly.
“We can go on my bike. Bryce is riding it back for me tonight.”
Amusement flashed in her eyes for a moment. “Not quite how my congregation are used to seeing their vicar arrive for church.”
“Maybe they needed to get used to a few changes.”
“Maybe.” But she glanced away.
He got to his feet and moved closer. She held her ground and didn’t back away.
“Let me stay?” he said.
She was aware of what he was asking. He could see the darkness swirling in her eyes. She licked her lips, and heat shot through him, settling in his groin. It might have been two thousand years ago, but he could remember their lovemaking as though it were yesterday. She had completed him. And in all the years since, he’d never again felt complete; something was missing from inside him. Now she stood before him. So close and yet not close enough. He took a step toward her, and her nostrils flared. Then she did turn away, running a hand through her hair.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Everything has happened so suddenly. I feel like I’m out of control, and I need to get a grip on myself before I make any decisions. Hey, it’s not every day a woman finds out she’s lived a hundred lives, and that long ago, she loved an angel.”
He hated the way she used the past tense.
For the first time, it occurred to him that he might very well fail. And fear squeezed his heart. He would lose her forever. She would die. The thought filled him with a sense of urgency. A need to somehow grasp control. Get back what they had.
He reached out, firmly—this was no time to be tentative—and slid his hand beneath the long hair and around her neck. He urged her toward him, then with his free hand he cupped her face, turning it up to his. He ignored the troubled look in her eyes, lowered his head, and touched his lips to hers.
But at the last moment, he had to know that this was what she wanted, and he raised his head, stroked the soft curve of her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Tell me you want me.”
“I do. But right now, I don’t know what’s right or wrong.”
“We’re right. So right.”
“But it’s too fast.”
“Then slow down. Just relax. Tomorrow, we’ll work out what to do, but for tonight, let’s remember what we once had.” Before everything went to shit. “Hey, it’s Christmas. Think of me as an early Christmas present.”
Her lips curved up at that, and some of the tension went from her shoulders. “And can I unwrap you now? Or do I have to wait until Christmas morning?”
“Hell, now, tomorrow, Christmas morning, lunchtime. You can unwrap me anytime you want to, baby.”
Then he held his breath and waited while she decided if she was going to send him to Heaven or Hell.
CHAPTER 14
Imogen stood at a crossroads, and she knew she’d been here before. Once long ago, she’d had to make this same decision. And it had not ended well. Though if she were honest, she would do it again. They’d had something very few people got to experience. Better to love intensely for a short time than to feel nothing for a long life.
The thought startled her.
She’d had many lives, and always since that first, she’d held herself back, not allowed herself to get close to anyone. Some forgotten memory telling her that love would only lead to pain. She’d recognized her fear on some subconscious level. That’s what the whole parachute thing had been about. The hope that solving one fear would somehow magically make the other disappear.
She’d been loved by an angel.
Now here he was again, except she was pretty sure there was little of the angel left. Whatever Devlin had been through since her first death had changed him indelibly. And she meant to sit him down and find out the gory details very soon—didn’t they say confession was good for the soul? Well, he could tell her all about what he’d been up to.
But not now.
It had been a rough couple of days. And tonight had been...more than a little stressful. The vodka had gone straight to her head, loosening the last of her inhibitions. But only because she wanted them loose. She’d already decided that.
Maybe once she knew more of what had happened to them all, she would have to decide that they could not be together. She had faith, she believed in God, and she wanted the world to be a better place.
What did Devlin believe in?
And she couldn’t forget that he had betrayed her all those years ago. Would she have taken the Elixir if she’d known it was stolen? She was in no way sure. She’d been so overwhelmed by the idea of redemption. The immoral sinner saved from a life of depravity by the love of an angel. Pure love. There had been no space in her head back then for stealing. God, she’d been a sanctimonious prig. But then there was nothing like a reformed sinner for going totally over the top.
All the same, it hadn’t been Devlin’s choice to make. He shouldn’t have lied to her. And she wasn’t sure she could ever trust him again.
That didn’t mean that she didn’t want him, though. Her body had come alive in the last couple of days. She wasn’t a virgin. She’d had a serious boyfriend in college, but he hadn’t approved of her calling. He hadn’t wanted that sort of life. And God had won out.
There had been no one since. She’d had opportunities; she didn’t believe her career precluded her having lovers as long as she didn’t flaunt them. But for some reason it had just never happened.
Now, the most gorgeous man she’d known in a hundred lifetimes was hers for the taking, and she just wasn’t strong enough to withstand the pull of a thousand memories. She’d known him in every way a man and woman could know each other, and her body softened and turned molten at those memories.
So she shook her head and put her doubts to the back of her mind. For tonight, she would accept this unexpected gift.
With the decision made, she allowed her gaze to wander over his tall frame. Had he always been that tall? From the wide shoulders beneath a black button-down shirt, to his lean hips in black jeans. She tried not to stare at the bulge in his pants, but failed totally, and a small pulse throbbed between her thighs.
Look up, Imogen!
He wore a silver necklace around his neck. She’d never liked jewelry on men, but it suited him, just enhanced his masculinity—which really needed no enhancing.
He’d said to unwrap him. And her fingers itched with the need.
She forced her gaze up a bit farther and found him watching her out of dark eyes. She gave a small nod, and he blew out his breath, then grinned. But he didn’t move, and she knew it was up to her.
Reaching out, she rested her palm on his chest, felt the heat of him through the thin shirt, the thud of his heart. She stroked a finger to the open neckline, touched his bare skin, and a shiver ran through her. She trailed her fingertip down to the first button, flicked it open, then to the next and the next until she came to the big silver buckle on his belt. She tugged the shirt free, and opened the last buttons, then parted the sides to frame his hard, muscled chest. His skin was golden, and a tattoo ran down his left side, like a lightning bolt. She scraped a fingernail over one nipple, and a low groan sounded in his throat. Slipping the shirt from his shoulders, she dropped it to the floor.
Her breaths were coming fast now, her heart hammering. She slowly walked around him, stroking her fingers over the satin of his skin. He had another tattoo on his right shoulder—it looked like some big cat paw print, and she traced the shape. Then back to the front and that silver buckle. The jeans rested low on his hips, and a line of dark, silky hair disappeared inside the waistband. She tugged at the buckle until it slid free, then paused. But only for a second because a sense of urgency was building inside her. The need to go beyond the point of no return.
This might be a one-time thing. She no longer knew what tomorrow might bring.
And she couldn’t forget that someone or something wanted her dead. Had sent those things for her tonight.
So...
Glancing down, she could see his erection pressing at the material, and heat washed through her, settling in her belly. She flicked open the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper.
She wanted that erection.
Laying her palm flat against the muscles of his abdomen, she pushed her hand down inside his pants. He wore nothing else, and her hands encountered scalding hot skin. Hard as steel, soft as silk.
His head had gone back, his eyes closed.
Suddenly they opened, and he stared down at her. “You were all I ever wanted. You were Heaven and Hell and Earth all rolled into one. When I was with you, I needed nothing else.” His dark eyes bored into her as if trying to make her say something. But she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to remember. She just wanted the here and now and this man deep inside her.
And for that, she needed him naked.
She pulled her hand free, then stepped back. He watched her out of narrowed eyes. Maybe it was time to lead by example. She was wearing too many clothes. Way too many. She reached behind her and lowered the zipper on her dress, then wriggled out of it. That still left her in black pants and a sweater. She glanced up and found him watching her, one eyebrow raised.
She scowled. “It’s freezing in that church.”
He shook his head but didn’t say anything, and she tugged the sweater over her head, then dragged the pants down, taking her thick, black tights with them. Finally, she was dressed only in a black cotton bra and panties. She didn’t exactly go in for sexy underwear, or sexy anything.
She forced herself to look into his face, and all her fears and insecurities slipped away. He’d always had the ability to make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. At least to him. And that had been enough.
Not releasing her gaze, he bent down and tugged off first one boot and then the other, tossing them across the room. Then in one economic move, he shoved down his pants, and a second later, he was naked.
Totally freaking naked.
His erection stood up almost vertical against his lean belly. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She swayed toward him. Then took the last step and dropped to her knees. She’d always loved this. Loved the power it gave her over him. She’d always felt their relationship unequal; only in this moment had she ever felt the balance of power shift to her.
She peered up the length of his body and found him watching her out of half-closed eyes.
As she blew softly on his shaft, it jerked as though with a life of its own. Then she took him in her mouth, and he filled her. So big. He tasted salty and sweet, and she could feel him straining toward her. She dragged her mouth up over him, then kissed
the tip, licking the length of him, her hands coming up to cup his balls. She slid her mouth over him once more, taking more of him this time.
His hands slid into her hair, and he gently tugged her head back.
“I need to be inside you,” he murmured. “If I don’t get inside you soon, I will go seriously insane.”
She blinked up at him but took the hand he offered and allowed him to pull her to her feet, then lead her into the bedroom. The light was dim in here. Outside the window, flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, and she could hear the low rumble of thunder overhead. A storm had come in.
She gasped as he picked her up and dropped her on the mattress, then he was down on top of her, his weight on his elbows, his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers, his tongue pushing inside, filling her with the taste of him. The length of his hard, naked body pressed against hers.
Her heart raced in panic, like she was standing on the top of a tall mountain staring down, and she almost backed away from the edge.
Then his big hand cupped her between her thighs, and through the thin cotton she could feel him against her sex. His fingers found her, and she was hot and wet as he slid inside. Opening her eyes, she stared straight into his as he flexed one finger, and she cried out with the force of the pleasure pulsating through her. It had always been like this. In that first life, after years of being immune to a man’s touch, he had turned her on, hot and hard. And now was no different. She pushed up against him as he lowered his head, burrowed it in the side of her neck, nipping the skin with his teeth, sending shudders rippling through her.
His free hand unclipped her bra, and he kissed her breasts, pushing the material away with his mouth, finding her nipple, sucking it into the warmth of his mouth, biting her with sharp teeth. And she felt it between her legs. A gush of warmth and wetness.
Then he was pushing her panties down her legs, and she kicked them off.
The scalding heat of his shaft pressed against her, and she shifted, needing him deep inside her. And finally he was there, filling her with one hard thrust of his body. She cried out, and he swallowed the sound with a kiss.
