The Angel: Tales of the Djinn, #3

by Emma Holly

  “Fariel is useful,” the ifrit captain pointed out. “He is the only member of my crew who can perform those tricks on the Internet.”

  “I am willing to set aside his punishment if he can fulfill a new request quickly.”

  “I am sure he will do his utmost, Wise and Beautiful Moon Ruler.”

  Luna was counting on it. Whether the universe decided she owed her ward or not, it wouldn’t hurt to cement Georgie’s fondness a smidgen more.

  SO THAT HAPPENED, Georgie mused, still gobsmacked by having cut her guardian out of an industrial-strength corset. She wouldn’t have pegged Alma as being insecure. She was the most beautiful woman Georgie knew. Men literally fell over themselves for her.

  She shook her head, exited the stairwell, and immediately got her own lesson in how easy it was for a female to wish she were perfect.

  The hunky photographer stood in the ground floor corridor, camera hanging from his shoulder, seemingly searching for someone. God, that was a great suit he wore—European-designery, like you’d see a famous athlete striding down a runway in. She shouldn’t have let his good looks distract her. If she’d kept her head, she might have ducked back in the stairwell.

  When he turned toward her, he broke into a breath-stealing smile. “There you are. You disappeared before I could take your picture.”

  “Uh,” Georgie said stupidly.

  Her nerves were fluttering. She tried to take a step and her ankle turned.

  Shit, she thought even as the man moved. He caught her forearms before she could go down. Erotic heat streaked disconcertingly through his grip on her.

  “Okay?” the man asked as he steadied her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Her voice came out raspy. Even though she’d stopped teetering, the man didn’t move his hands. His palms were warm and supportive. His sky blue gaze didn’t veer from hers.

  “You can let go,” she pointed out.

  The man laughed, his cheeks going slightly pink. Georgie really tried not to let his embarrassment enchant her.

  “Of course I can let you go,” he responded. “Forgive me. I’m Connor, by the way. Connor Lindstrom. Of Canada.”

  “That’s my best friend’s name,” she blurted. “Connor, I mean. Not Lindstrom.”

  “Ah,” he said. Had his sculpted cheekbones just flushed darker? “I am pleased to possess a name with fond associations.”

  Christ, she thought. You just called a possibly imaginary being your best friend.

  “I happen to know you’re Georgie,” Connor continued with a smile. “Your friend Tom told me you’re the person this party is honoring. Congratulations on reaching eighteen years.”

  “Um, thank you,” she said.

  “If you don’t wish to have your picture taken, perhaps you’d like to dance.”

  She blinked. “With you?”

  His smile deepened. “That is what would please me most.”

  She stammered but couldn’t get out an intelligible refusal. Apparently deciding to ignore her der, der, der, the hot photographer took her hand. The same tingly streaks as before zinged through her. He was doing things to her insides no other man had done. When he gently tugged her wrist, she wanted to fall against him.

  “The music is this way,” he teased.

  He pulled her onto the dance floor with all the other guests. The DJ was playing something slow. That was not helpful. Georgie’s brain and body were both a mess.

  She ordered herself not to ask Connor if he’d ever worked as a nude model.

  “I believe this hand goes here.” Connor guided her into position like he was the James Bond of slow dancing. Seeming to know he shouldn’t be too ambitious, he began to sway with her, side to side.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she confessed.

  “You’re faking it fine. I haven’t danced many times myself.”

  Saying this seemed to amuse him. His blue eyes twinkled. His gaze didn’t budge when she stepped on his foot, though his second hand pressed more securely on her back. Oh boy, she wanted to let him pull her nearer. Because she had to do something, she slid her other hand up his dinner jacket’s front. His chest was really firm. And broad. And suddenly he smelled like heaven with a side order of hot man. Georgie’s pussy quivered, abruptly liquid enough to overflow.

  Thongs really weren’t designed for this level of arousal.

  When Connor cleared his throat, it was the sexiest sound imaginable. Was he turned on too? Had desire tightened his vocal chords? Something weirdly like panic rose in her.

  “I shouldn’t do this,” she said. “I told Tom I wouldn’t dance with him.”

  “Tom isn’t your boyfriend, though.”

  “No, but—” She stared helplessly at her partner. His face was serious now. She was pretty sure their locked gazes qualified as eye banging. She didn’t know if they were drawing attention. She couldn’t bring herself to look away and check.

  He was even more beautiful thoughtful than smiling.

  “You don’t want to hurt Tom’s feelings,” Connor guessed. “I think he’ll forgive you. He is young and likely to fall in love again. Also, he seems to value you as a friend.”

  “How do you know that? Didn’t you just meet him?”

  Connor smiled and turned them both gently to the left. “Maybe I’m perceptive.”

  The rotation dizzied her. She had to stop before she stumbled.

  “Too much spinning?” Connor asked solicitously.

  She couldn’t admit he’d put her off balance. She also couldn’t back away. She petted his lapels, and he covered her hands with his. His thumbs stroked her knuckles, the caress unbelievably delicious. They were acting like lovers. Like they’d already shagged but hadn’t done it so often they were over the attraction. Why did he pull at her like this? And why was she pulling him? Men didn’t fall at her feet like they did for her guardian.

  “Connor, I—”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish, not that she knew what she meant to say. The slow song stopped as someone tapped the DJ’s mike.

  “Hello, everyone,” Alma said as the crowd turned to her.

  She’d sorted out her wardrobe malfunction. Queenly in the spotlight up on the little stage, she wore a plunging black silk gown that flowed down her alluring curves like a waterfall. “I hope you’re having fun. I trust you’ll indulge me if I interrupt. As you know, I’m a private person, so I promise to keep this brief. I simply can’t miss out on wishing my ward the happiest of birthdays.”

  She waved to Georgie, spotting her at the back.

  “First, I want to say I’m grateful for every day I’ve spent with this marvelous girl. I didn’t realize how dreary my single life was until she came into it. Instead of a responsibility, she’s become a friend. I’m so proud I had the chance to watch her grow into an independent and impressive young woman. I know I don’t say it often, but you’re very dear to me, Georgie McFadden.”

  Never mind “didn’t say it often.” She never said it at all. Georgie felt amazed and touched and the teensiest bit dubious.

  Not that she had a right to. Alma had never been anything but good to her.

  Her guardian held up something that flashed when she jiggled it. “Come up here, sweetie. Your final present is parked on the front drive.”

  An audible ooh rang out through the guests. Vehicles for eighteenth birthdays weren’t standard in blue-collar burghs like theirs.

  Well, Georgie thought, stupefied. Hasn’t this been a night of surprises?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  —

  GIFTS

  This vehicle is stolen, Connor realized. Whatever Fariel did to magick things through the Internet, Connor doubted he paid for them. Some human, somewhere, had an unexpected empty space in his new car lot.

  The white pick-up glistened under Ravenwings’ landscape lights. Along with a number of the partygoers, Georgie had gone out to gawk at it.

  “Wow,” she said. “Alma, this is too much.”


  Connor didn’t think he imagined the unease in Georgie’s reaction.

  “Nonsense,” Luna responded. “A truck is practical. You can use it for your business. Why don’t you take it for a spin with your new friend?”

  Her new friend was him. Georgie turned red as her gaze cut to his.

  “Why don’t I drive?” Connor said, unsure Fariel knew how to render this theft untraceable. Didn’t new cars have trackers? Until he found out if it was deactivated, he’d rather Georgie not risk arrest.

  Actually, he’d rather Georgie not unwittingly accept stolen goods. Apparently, one of his new preferences was respecting other people’s ownership of things.

  To his relief, Georgie handed him the keys. He opened her door and then got in the driver’s side. He thought he knew how to do this. He’d ridden along invisibly with humans many times. It was his nature to pay attention and learn quickly. Surely this would be no harder than fake waltzing.

  The engine started. Fariel must have stolen fuel as well.

  “Where would you like to go?” Connor asked.

  Georgie looked very tense. “Anywhere quiet.”

  Connor smiled. He knew a place she’d find peaceful. “Say goodbye to your guardian.”

  “Thank you,” Georgie called through her window.

  “Shit,” she said as soon as they were halfway down the drive. “This is a thoughtful gift. How will I explain I can’t keep it? My business has to be my business: me standing on my own two feet. I’ve been saving up to buy something used.”

  “I believe that is your explanation.”

  Georgie sighed. “You must think I’m ungrateful. Alma is really generous.”

  “Sometimes material objects—however costly—aren’t what is most longed for.”

  “Yes,” she said, a history in the word.

  He felt her looking at him. The pleasure of that threatened to distract him from operating the vehicle. He wanted to touch her again. He’d enjoyed putting his hands on her earlier, sensing their energy connecting. Still, how wonderful it was to be in a body and share this small space with her!

  “You’re not an ordinary person,” she observed.

  “I’m from Canada,” he said.

  “Are all guys from Canada nice?”

  He wanted to laugh. Private jokes were fun! He sent his gaze sideways to enjoy her amusement. “Maybe.”

  “Why did you want to dance with me?”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. You’re Georgie, he thought.

  “I’m interesting,” she countered.

  He realized she meant interesting looking rather than beautiful.

  “That too,” he agreed. “Aren’t I interesting and beautiful to you?”

  She snorted. “You’re something, all right. I’ll let you know when I decide what.”

  Her posture had relaxed. She’d turned to lean back rather than brace on the pick-up’s door. She trusted him. And why wouldn’t she? Hadn’t she called him her best friend?

  “You look smug,” she said. “You shouldn’t. I’m not an easy mark.”

  “You’re assuming I want you to be.”

  “You got me there,” she said.

  Desire ignited inside of him. The fire was soft but seemed to heat every inch of his body. His blood pulsed strongest between his legs, his male part hardening. He adored the almost-pain of yearning, the ache he knew only she could satisfy.

  Driving took all the concentration he’d learned thus far.

  He saw their destination up ahead. He turned off the road and did the things one had to in order to stop a car safely. Remembering all of them was satisfying. He thanked his unknowing teachers silently. As far as he could tell, Georgie hadn’t noticed anything wrong with his driving.

  “This is the train depot,” she said, leaning out her rolled-down window. He’d stopped in the parking lot, which was empty of anyone but them. “Are we getting out?”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Normally I would. This platform has awesome nineteenth century iron details. Whenever I see it, I imagine people in old fashioned clothes wheeling steamer trunks.” She turned to him and tucked one calf under her. “Are you into trains?”

  “I like the way the tracks curve in both directions. And listening to the whistle from far away.”

  “Some people say that sound is sad.”

  “Sometimes sadness is as beautiful as joy.”

  She cocked her head, really taking in what he’d said. His chest tightened. He’d spoken a personal truth. Would she think it was peculiar?

  “I bet you’re a good photographer. How did Alma end up hiring you anyway?”

  He didn’t want to lie to Georgie, but if he answered truthfully, he’d betray Luna’s trust. “That was a combination of fate and choice.”

  “Fate, huh?”

  “And choice.” He reached out to take her hand gently. Her fingers slid up his onto his palm. Though her skin was smooth, she had calluses from her work. The feel of them, and of her acceptance of his hold, cast a spell he had no wish to escape. “I’d like to kiss you, Georgie. Would you choose to let me?”

  Her eyes widened. For a moment she didn’t answer.

  “Yes,” she said and rose up on her knees on the pickup’s seat.

  He didn’t expect that. He turned and put his hands on her sides. The sparkly dress she wore was insubstantial. He felt her ribs right through it. His breath caught and his heart sped up. This was her body, within his hold again. When she rubbed his shoulders, the hardness between his legs felt like it would to explode. He was glad he knew from his research that it couldn’t.

  Possibly he had a strange expression, because Georgie smiled slightly.

  “I guess I’ll kiss you then,” she said.

  She laid her mouth on his, the fingers of one hand combing into his hair. That was very nice. The sensation of the different touches layered over and multiplied each other, causing quite a lot of him to tingle. He pulled her closer so he could kiss her the way she was kissing him.

  “Mmm,” she hummed like a sound of discovery.

  He was making discoveries too. Her heart was pounding as hard as his, her second arm wrapping his back warmly. He parted his lips and suddenly their tongues tangled together. That was more than nice; that was spectacular. She swung over his lap and he rubbed both hands up and down her back.

  He didn’t have to think what to do. His palms knew exactly where they wanted to squeeze and explore. Her bottom, her waist, the softness of her breasts all drew him. She was female and he was male. Instincts that required no study drove his embrace of her.

  She moaned, her tongue going deeper. Connor felt oddly desperate. He urged her weight down on him.

  When she rolled her pelvis up his erection, both their heads flung back.

  “God,” she gasped.

  He kissed her neck, licking the quick beat of life beneath her skin. He liked that, but somehow it didn’t satisfy. Needing her mouth again, he steadied her skull with both hands and plunged between her lips. After that, he didn’t want to stop kissing her. The way she squirmed on him was exciting, answering each of his caresses with new and better ones. She seemed to like the muscles of his arms and shoulders. Connor valued them all the more for pleasing her.

  Finally, she broke free to stroke his face.

  “Connor,” she panted. Hungry, he moved to kiss her again but she retreated. “Maybe this is going a little fast.”

  “You don’t want fast?”

  She laughed breathily. “Part of me wants it. The rest would appreciate a chance to think before I jump into anything.”

  This sounded reasonable to his head—one of his heads, anyway.

  He let her go and she returned to her original position against the door. He could see she wasn’t angry or uptight. Her body language was relaxed—sensual, actually. Her cheek rested on the seatback, both legs tucked up with her torso facing him. Her dress had ridden up on her thighs. Her arms seemed to have no stiffness left.r />
  “How long will thinking take?” he asked.

  Her chuckle was so sexy it made his erection hurt.

  “I don’t know.” She seemed to savor her perusal of his face. “I’ve never reacted this way to a man before. You Canadians pack a punch.”

  He opened his mouth then realized she didn’t mean all Canadians. She meant him. That was so nice he smiled. She grinned back, and for a minute they didn’t say anything. Connor leaned his cheek on the seatback too. Was communing part of falling in love? He thought he’d done that already. If there was more to the process, he didn’t mind. So far, it was wonderful.

  “You’re so pretty,” she said and laughed.

  “You’re so interesting,” he teased back.

  She giggled, delighting him.

  “Your eyes are the color of lavender,” he added. “If I were a honeybee, I’d fall in love with you.”

  She snorted in amusement. “Now you’re being silly.”

  “Bees like purple. That’s not silly. That’s science.”

  She reached out to brush the skin beside his eye with her fingertips. “I heard American bees like blue better. Or maybe that’s butterflies.”

  Her touch made him shiver. Perhaps it was catching, because a second later she shivered too. His gaze dropped instinctively. Her nipples were aroused, the tips of her rounded breasts pressing her pretty dress’s halter-top. He wet his lips. What would those sharp points be like to kiss?

  “Connor.” Her voice dragged his attention to her face. “Maybe you should drive me home. You know, so I can start thinking.”

  “I suppose I should,” he said, straightening reluctantly. A happier thought curved his lips. “After all, the sooner you start, the sooner you might be done!”

  THOUGH IT WASN’T THAT late when they got back, Georgie saw the party was breaking up. The final car full of laughing teens peeled out as they drove up.

  “Well, that’s embarrassing. Probably I should have said goodbye to my guests. Not that they were actually here for me. Most of them just wanted to ogle Ravenwings.”

  “Some of them might have come for that reason,” Connor said. “Not all, though. Tom came for you, certainly.”