How to Seduce an Angel in 10 Days

by Saranna Dewylde

  “Then why were you staring at my tits?”

  “Because they’re magnificent.” He was glad he still had hold of her wrist, and grabbed for the other one just as it launched itself from her side like a rocket into space.

  The flush crept up to her cheeks. “Let me go.”

  “Stop trying to hit me.”

  “Stop being a bastard,” she hissed.

  “Fair enough.” He couldn’t really argue with that one. “Look, Tally, I know you’re pissed at me, and I deserve it, but I don’t have dental coverage yet. I’d like to keep my teeth.”

  She laughed, and then scowled halfheartedly. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m angry.”

  “I know.” He released her wrists and drew her against him slowly. Falcon felt like even more of a bastard when she relaxed into his embrace with perfect trust. He never should have crossed that line into his fantasies with her. But she felt so good in his arms. The way she clung to him made him feel like he could conquer the world.

  Only, that was the problem. She trusted him to conquer the world, to be the hero, and that just wasn’t in his DNA.

  He released her reluctantly, at a loss for what to say, and struggled to keep his eyes on her face rather than her magnificent breasts, but it was a losing battle. So he surrendered.

  “Falcon, do you know why I was an—” She broke off with a huff. “For fuck’s sake, really?”

  “I was listening!” he swore. “I heard every word you said.”

  Tally sighed again and did something completely unexpected. She pulled up her shirt and bared her breasts. They bounced with her movement, entrancing him further. Her nipples tightened and puckered, begging for his mouth.

  Falcon froze. Merlin’s teeth, what was she trying to do to him? “Tally, if you’re going to slap me for kissing you, what do you expect me to do with this?”

  “Well, you can’t look at my face when I’m talking to you, so there. Look your fill and then maybe we can have a conversation.”

  “We had this conversation. I always look and I always hear what you’re saying. Swear to Merlin.”

  “Fine. What did I say?”

  “How do you expect me to remember now with your rack in my face? The other parts of my brain have shut down.”

  “Well, if you were listening . . .” she singsonged.

  Fuck. What had she been saying? Right. “You wanted to know if I knew why you were angry.”

  She dropped her shirt. “You really were listening.” Her mouth made a little “o” of surprise. On second thought, looking at her mouth and imagining all the things he could do with it—to it—was almost as much fun as her breasts. Almost.

  “I said as much, didn’t I? I’ve never lied to you, Tally. I may not be the most honorable warlock, but I’m honest.”

  “So you really have been scoping out my breasts every time we’ve talked?”

  “We’ve been down that path and you’ve changed your mind about revisiting it, so let’s talk about something else, okay?” His cock couldn’t take any more, not after her wing stroking and tit flashing. He readjusted his toga.

  “Okay, then answer my other question. Do you know why you pissed me off?”

  “I would assume because I passed out in your sweetmeats.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not actually mad about that.”

  Women’s reasoning boggled his brain. He’d never understand them. Which was another reason why it was a stupid idea to make him Cupid. “So what are you mad about?”

  Tally flashed him a thousand-watt smile. “I’m glad you asked. See, you were confused about the part where you thought I didn’t want to revisit that path. I want to revisit it plenty, but I deserve your respect.”

  “Of course, I respect you, Tally.” If his cock got any harder, it was going to explode. “Why did you think I didn’t?” Aside from the part where he got hammered and passed out in her snatch. He understood that didn’t convey the best message.

  “Shoving your tongue down my throat just because I touched your wings. Not looking at my face when you talk to me. Not listening to what I have to say.”

  “But we resolved all that.”

  “Right. Now there’s just the part where you’re my parole officer.” She pursed her lips.

  “Honestly, I know I’m not your best shot at this redemption thing.” He couldn’t believe he was going to say what he uttered next. “But there’s no one who wants you to succeed more than I do.”

  It was true. He cared about Tally, and he wanted her to be happy. She’d be just a job to another angel. For him, it was something more. Of course, he’d have to keep his dick to himself. His eyes wandered down toward her breasts again. He’d be doing a lot of things to his dick by himself if he kept this up, but her well-being and redemption were worth more to him than a one-off. Or even a several-off, but it was still something that would come to an end and not worth her soul.

  “So you’re not going to put in for a new assignment?” She looked so vulnerable and in need of that protection he’d promised her would always be there.

  “Whatever you want, Tally. If you want me to see this through with you, I will. If you want someone else, I’ll go put in for a transfer right now.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her head against his chest. “You, Falcon. I want you. I’m so scared. I don’t want to go to Hell.”

  “You won’t. I won’t let you.” Falcon knew better than to make promises he couldn’t keep, but this one had fallen out of his mouth like old bubblegum. “I swear on my magick.” And yet another bomb. Maybe he could have the Powers That Be sew his mouth shut?

  “Don’t do that!” she gasped, a look of horror blooming on her face. “What if I fail?”

  “You won’t fail.” Fuck. His mouth just kept moving and shit just kept falling out of it. “I’ll be here.”

  “All the time?”

  “Yeah. There are some conditions to your parole. You’ll be without magick in the mortal realm. I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself.”

  “Wait, what? Without magick?” Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, as if they were scurrying away from the knowledge. “I can’t live without my . . . no.” She kept shaking her head.

  “Ethelred didn’t tell you that part?” He had a feeling he should have asked her what the demon had told her.

  Tally stumbled backwards, clutching at her chest. Her skin went ashen; her lovely blue eyes bulged like overweight koi crammed into brandy snifters. She shook her head, her mouth open, and again he couldn’t help comparing her to a fish. This time. a gasping large-mouthed bass out of water.

  “Tally?” he ventured.

  She swayed for a moment before she collapsed.

  Falcon was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. He knew he should have tried to catch her, but the time for that had passed. Now what?

  The stench of burned eggs filled his nose as Ethelred materialized next to him. “I was holding off on that last bit. Thought it might be a bit too much for her to handle. Seems I was correct.”

  “Have you been here the whole time?”

  Ethelred arched a brow and smirked. “Oh, did I hear all of your courtly protestations and vows of sainthood in shining armor? Why yes, yes, I did.” Falcon growled, but before he could make any threats or promises, Ethelred spoke again. “Don’t you think it’s rather unchivalrous to leave the lady fair unconscious on the porch? She might have stopped breathing. Then where will we be?”

  Falcon lurched into action, crashing down next to Tally. She was breathing, thank Merlin. He hauled her up into his arms and stood with his precious bundle close to his chest.

  “Why don’t you kiss her? True love and all that rot to bring her ’round.”

  “Why don’t you fuck right off?”

  “Should I really answer that?”

  “Heaven gets the first bite of the apple. You have no reason to be here.”

  “Yes, and how ironic is that? It was our apple to start
with.” Ethelred laughed. “Don’t forget to tuck your wings,” he added helpfully as Falcon was about to step through the front door of Tally’s house. He grumbled as he tucked them close against his body and took Tally to her room, where he deposited her gently on the bed.

  “I think she needs CPR.” Ethelred followed behind him.

  “Why? She’s breathing.”

  “Well, maybe. But don’t you want an excuse to put your lips on hers? To put your hands on—”

  “Are you trying to make me into a sex offender? She’s passed out, for Merlin’s sake.” Ethelred shrugged, still wearing that same smug look. “Look, Tally’s who you’re supposed to corrupt, not me.”

  “And what would you actually know about Hell’s agenda, Diapered One?”

  Falcon narrowed his eyes. “I know there are rules, and you’re breaking them.”

  “Really? That’s all the ammo you’ve got? And you wonder why women always go for the bad boys. We’re much more fun.” Ethelred gave him a measured look. “She propositioned me, you know.” The joy he took in those words was as blatant as a little girl’s with a new doll.

  Without thinking, Falcon drew an arrow and jammed it into the demon’s leg. “And you’ll fall in love with her if she propositions you again or you think about seducing her. Or anyone else you try these tricks on. I won’t let you hurt her.”

  Ethelred looked up at him, his stone features betraying nothing as the red, glittery arrow dissolved to black ash and was absorbed by his skin. “I was mistaken. Love is always an asshole. You may get the girl yet.” Ethelred laughed bitterly.

  “I don’t want the girl. I—”

  “That much is obvious. You didn’t have to skywrite it,” Tally snarled as she sat up.

  Ethelred grinned again, the expression bubbling into a laugh. “And that’s my cue.”

  “Your cue was an hour ago,” Falcon growled.

  “You better get used to me, Candy Wings. We’re all going house hunting tomorrow. You know part of Tally’s sentence is living in the mortal world. So we’re all going to be really close.” Ethelred smirked. “Together. In the same house. So, do you want a two-bedroom or a three? She can pick which—” Ethelred snapped his mouth shut. He’d obviously been about to make an allusion to sleeping with Tally. “Oh, Cupid, you are a tricky bastard, aren’t you?”

  Falcon smiled slyly. “Don’t forget it, Rotten Eggs.”

  Ethelred appraised him coolly. “You can be sure I won’t.” He disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  “What was that about? Moving in together?” Tally’s voice reached a pitch that Falcon was sure could shatter glass. “Are you two assholes trying to kill me?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves

  “I almost killed my sister after you left last night, demon.” Emilian Grey ran his fingers through his platinum hair and glowered at Ethelred. Who, in turn, sighed at the overwrought drama of it all.

  Emilian Grey was a werewolf, with a twin sister who had escaped the curse that plagued him. He was also Ethelred’s latest assignment.

  Ethelred continued to drum his fingers on the table in the tiny trailer. “And how is this my problem, Princeling?” he replied in his standard unaffected tone. “You didn’t sign the contract and I was busy.” Busy dealing with Tally when he should have been handling this mess. Because Ethelred was very affected. The gypsy prince’s problem was, in fact, Ethelred’s problem. One that he needed to handle before the Big Boss found out about it, if he didn’t know already.

  Emilian Grey was cursed. A gypsy cursed by his own mother. Ethelred could get around that. He was a Crown Prince of Hell, after all, but there was a tide of magick and power that was this prince’s birthright—a mantle of evil. Emilian Grey was the bastard son of Michael Grigorovich, a very bad man whom Ethelred had worked the long con on. Michael’s soul belonged to him for eternity, but it hadn’t been because Hell wanted him. The Big Boss and the Bigger Boss had both agreed he needed to be imprisoned for the good of the world.

  And all the dark power that had made Michael a danger to this plane of existence waited in the wings for Emilian’s taking. Ethelred should have handled this when he’d made his father’s contract, by eliminating the stockpile of black magick in Grigorovich blood. He would have, too, if he’d known about Emilian.

  Ethelred turned his head slowly to the window, sensing another presence. “There’s someone outside.”

  Emilian nodded, lifting his nose to the air like an animal. “It’s Luminista. My sister.”

  “What, is she babysitting? Tell her to kick rocks.”

  “She thinks you’re going to cheat me.” The gypsy prince smiled bitterly.

  “I don’t want my brother to go to Hell for trafficking with your sort,” Luminista snarled as she pushed through the flimsy door.

  “Ah, yes. The road to Hell is indeed paved with good intentions,” Ethelred agreed. “And yet, I don’t see you offering to take this curse from your dearest twin.” Oh, how he loved to stir the pot.

  “And then put that guilt on his shoulders, too? That would torture him more than bearing the curse himself,” she said as she flopped into the plastic-covered chair with a decided lack of grace.

  Ethelred had to admit they were both beautiful, a matched, tragic set—white-blond hair, pale steel eyes, and lovely alabaster skin. He’d been tempted to make sex part of the Deal, but with Cupid’s sodding curse, that was out. Ethelred, in love? Bah. He didn’t have time for that nonsense and more important, he didn’t want it. He’d seen the wages of Love on humanity and the cost was too dear. Much, much too dear. He wanted no part of it.

  “So, Princess. Why aren’t you cursed?”

  “Does that matter?” Luminista answered him.

  “Everything matters.”

  The twins looked at each other for a long moment and Emilian nodded. “Tell him. He’s our only hope.”

  Ethelred was used to this kind of scene. Most people didn’t summon a demon if they had any other reasonable option.

  “Because my mother didn’t know about me. I wasn’t breathing and the midwife didn’t tell her I’d been born.”

  Ethelred eyed her carefully. “There’s more. Tell me all of it. Unless you don’t want my help.”

  “I was dead. And born with a caul.”

  If Ethelred had been by himself, he would’ve indulged himself in a full-blown tantrum. He didn’t know any way around this. If he negated the prince’s curse, Luminista would become the heir and they’d still be in the same canoe up shit creek.

  The gypsy prince looked up at him, his eyes full of something Ethelred couldn’t and didn’t want to name. There was a set determination in the lad’s mouth. He looked much older than his twenty years. “What if I die?”

  “No!” Luminista cried.

  “No matter, Princeling. Then your sister will be cursed. There is great magick in your curse. It’s not all bad.” No, not all. Just ninety-nine percent of it. He sighed. “I don’t think we’ll be able to sign your contract today, after all.”

  “What? I’m sorry I didn’t sign. I’ll do it, I’ll sign right now. Just help me save Luminista.”

  “No, boy. I’m not trying to punish you. I just don’t know if I can help you and it would be bad for business to make a contract I couldn’t fulfill.”

  “Look, demon—” Luminista stood, her hands on her hips. “You don’t have to play hardball with us. We’ll give you whatever you want.”

  The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but Ethelred didn’t notice as his demonic wheels began to churn around that statement: whatever you want. It really was the most dangerous phrase to utter to anyone Infernal.

  “How about you resurrect my mother and let her have the curse? Who is she to decide who suffers?” There was a metallic edge of desperation in his voice.

  “She was a hot-tempered gypsy woman. Curses fly out of their mouths the same as breathing.” Ethelred sighed. “I once knew a gypsy woman who cursed he
r lovers in her sleep.” When she’d tried to curse him, it hadn’t gone over so well.

  “Why didn’t she curse Grigorovich instead? I’m her son, too,” Emilian asked softly.

  “We could ask her if you like. I’m sure she’s in Hell for cursing you,” Ethelred offered helpfully. “Maybe we could get her to rescind the curse—I’m not sure though because it was uttered during a time of great unhappiness. Sadness is like Infernal glue.”

  “I don’t wish that on her.” Emilian looked up at the demon, his eyes full of despair.

  “Of course, you don’t. Hell is subjective. It’s guilt that tortures her.” Ethelred rolled his eyes.

  “Can I save her? I can’t save myself. Maybe I could do something for someone. Something to make up for this evil I’ve loosed in the world by breathing.”

  “That’s a little overdramatic, don’t you think?” Ethelred asked lightly. Everything with these gypsies was overdramatic. Although, he had to admit this curse was kind of a bitch.

  “Is it? I can’t see any end to this, any answer.” Emilian ducked his head into the safety of his folded arms.

  “If you’re so sure there isn’t one, then there isn’t,” Ethelred answered. This was a tangle, to be sure, but Ethelred had been crafting contracts for millennia. If anyone could find a way around this, Ethelred knew he could. Even if it meant taking it to the Powers That Be.

  “That doesn’t make any sense, demon,” Emilian roared.

  “So, now you want to save Mom, too? What about Grigorovich, shall we add him to the list?” He snickered. “I made his deal, you should know.”

  Emilian’s eyes lightened to a caramel, then to a uric yellow as the change hovered over him. His nostrils flared, seeking the scent of fear.

  “Stop that. I’m not into bestiality.” Ethelred slapped him on the nose as if he were a naughty puppy. Then he inspected his hand for werewolf snot and, finding some, wiped it off on his slacks. “If Grigorovich was sorry for what he did to your mother, would you forgive him?”

  “No,” Emilian confessed.

  “Even if your forgiveness will break the curse?”

  “Will it?” Emilian blinked, hope shining from him.