Welcome to Hell Box Set: Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Mel Goes to Hell Series Book 123)

by Demelza Carlton

  Luce carefully set his cup down. He glanced around, checking to make sure they really were alone before he spoke in a very low voice. "You're the one who won the coffee machine, aren't you?" Mel nodded once. "Why did you bring it here, instead of the agency where you work? Angels always look after angels first." He sounded bitter.

  Mel kept her voice gentle. "Actually, we don't. We look after those who need it most. Those who have the least. I've never worked for Raphael in that office – just here. This office is a pretty dark place and I thought it could do with a bit of hope. No one deserved to drink the coffee we had here before – damned or not, it was just plain horrible." She managed an apologetic smile. "Besides, angels aren't addicted to caffeine like your staff are. We can easily do without. If your staff weren't so afraid of you, perhaps one of them might have said something before you made an offer you couldn't deliver on."

  Luce grinned. "Sure I can. Your pick of the office girls – or anyone else here. The technique might be a little different to a blowjob, but I'm sure they'd do their bit to thank you. After all, I'm always open to a more permanent arrangement with our temporary staff, if you like it here."

  Mel shook her head, remembering Raphael's warning. "No, Luce. I'm not getting intimate with any of your staff, nor do I want a permanent job here."

  "What about me?" His grin faltered, but it was still there. "I'm quite a sexy devil, you know, and I do have a fair bit of experience." His eyes didn't seem so cold now – the darkness reminded her more of his steaming cup of coffee than the vacuum of space. "I'm only offering this to you, Mel. How about a hot cup of sensuality in payment for this equally hot cup of coffee?"

  This took her by surprise. Oral sex from Lucifer himself – well, there was an offer a girl didn't get every day, much less an angel. He'd even remembered her name. "Luce, all I really wanted was a decent cup of coffee for myself. Giving the same to everyone else in the office is a perk, I guess."

  Luce looked thoughtful. "How about I make you one? My coffee machine at home is just a smaller version of this one. I should be able to work it out. How do you take it?"

  Mel shrugged. "I usually drink tea. I occasionally have a cup of instant coffee, but not often enough to be able to say I know what I like. I'm sure whatever you make will be fine."

  "A macchiato, but I'll make it a double because you have a mug…and top it up. White and fluffy on top, clothed in light brown, just like the suit you wore to your interview, but with a hidden dark heart inside." Luce looked proud of himself.

  "It sounds lovely, Luce, but you're wrong about a macchiato – or at least, how it's supposed to be made. The heart of a macchiato is milk-white," Mel said gently. She'd never seen such a clumsy attempt at corrupting her – so much for the seductive devil she'd been warned about. All she felt was sympathy for this devil, not desire at all.

  His eyes seemed to darken. "We'll see." He stabbed the buttons on the coffee machine until it whirred in submission. Both he and Mel watched the spout, from the first dark trickle to the last white droplet. "Hmmph. Maybe you're right," he said grudgingly.

  Mel reached for her cup and took a tiny sip. She licked the foam from her lip and smiled. "I usually am, but you made a good call on this coffee. I like it. Thank you."

  Luce just stared at her, as if he didn't believe her, or he suspected some ulterior motive behind her taste for his coffee-making skills. Mel sighed and waited. She didn't know how demons managed to live with this sort of distrust.

  She took pity on him. "I'm an angel, remember? Angels don't lie, Luce."

  It took a moment, but eventually Luce seemed satisfied and he relaxed. "No worries," he said. "You're not like any other angel I've known – and I've known a fair few."

  Mel smiled. "So I've been told."

  Luce seemed to hesitate, torn between more than one course of action. Mel hoped he didn't do anything else stupid.

  He seized her hand and kissed it.

  Mel expected another jolt of electricity to throw him across the room, like it had with Merih that morning. Some pain as two opposing souls touched. Or some sort of tingling, core-wrenching reaction that so frequently happened to the heroines in all the human romances she'd read. Yet she felt nothing – just the damp touch of his lips on the back of her hand and a faint impression of stormy clouds. That's all she caught of his soul before he released her.

  Where was the darkness she'd seen before? Mel wondered. Storm clouds were nowhere near as dark, nor as thick. Was the absence of darkness an illusion…or the darkness itself? She blinked, twice, but Luce didn't change. Unlike Nybbas, Luce looked the same with or without illusion. No, wait, there was one place he'd want to look more impressive. Staring hard at the front of Luce's pants, Mel tried to work out which bulge was the illusion and which the reality, but they both looked identical.

  Luce cleared his throat. Startled, Mel looked up. "If you're feeling the same way, I'd be happy to help."

  Mel stared. She felt relieved that she hadn't hurt him. One demon a day was more than enough.

  "My offer still stands," Luce continued with a wink.

  "Your offer?"

  "Of very personal payment for your first coffee," Luce replied, raising the cup in salute. "Any time." Whistling, he wandered off.

  Mel almost wiped her damp hand on her pants, but she waited until he was out of sight before crossing to the kitchen, where she washed her hands instead. Who knew where his mouth had been?

  Twenty

  "Enjoy your holiday!" Gerry called, grinning, as Mel left for the day. "Don't forget to bring back photos!"

  "I'll do my best," she replied, shouldering her way through the door to Reception. If she did bring pictures, she'd make sure there wasn't a single mankini in any of them.

  Mel's phone rang before she'd pushed her way through the supposedly automatic doors in the lobby. She glanced at the number before accepting the call. "Hi, Raphael."

  "Mel, it's me, Raphael," he said, as if he hadn't heard her. Mel waited patiently for his mind to catch up with his mouth. "I've got Gabi! She's arrived from Russia and she'll be in first thing tomorrow to start her receptionist job at HELL. You won't be alone any more!"

  "I leave for Sri Lanka tonight and I won't be back for over a week, Raphael. She'll just have to settle in without me."

  "You're going WHERE?"

  Mel took a deep breath. "I'm going to Sri Lanka. I've had this planned for months, since well before you asked me to go to the job interview here in HELL. Flights and accommodation booked, the works. I'm not giving up my trip to Colombo for you or this job."

  "But why are you going to Sri Lanka? Why now? Can't it wait? How can a holiday be more important than stopping Lucifer from taking over the world?" Raphael wailed.

  "Raphael, CHOGM is in Colombo this year. I haven't missed a single meeting and not even Lucifer himself will stop me from attending this one. I have a life outside of the agency and the HELL Corporation, remember? You can keep me from Korea for a bit, but not Sri Lanka. Do you have any idea how much trouble world leaders can cause in a retreat without an angel? You remember the one in New Zealand, back in '95?"

  Silence reigned as Raphael remembered, all too well, his failings of that year. "You know I'm sorry about that, Mel. It should have been you in Nigeria, not me, but by the time I realised, it was too late. I…Have a good trip and try to enjoy yourself. Get some rest. Something tells me you'll need it."

  Mel once again promised she'd do her best, before ending the call. Slipping her phone back into her bag, she marched off to the train station, mentally listing all the things she needed to pack. She knew it was quite hot in Colombo this time of year. Hell, it was hot in Colombo every day of the year. Thank God her hotel had a pool.

  Twenty-One

  Mel rose from the water, refreshed by her morning swim. With the conference dinner last night, the festivities had ended and she had until the following evening to rest, recuperate and reconcile herself to returning home to her job at the HELL Corpo
ration. Lucifer and his minions be damned. Why couldn't she go back to living the life she was supposed to?

  "Don't you just look like the angel of the morning, rising from the foam like Venus," a male voice remarked.

  Mel's eyes darted to the reclining man. "Watch your words. Lucifer was the light of the morning, and if that's me, you're in for one Hell of a seduction – that will end with you losing your soul."

  "But you're not," he said, sliding his sunglasses from his face. "You're the Melody Angel. An angel far more seductive than that old devil could ever be. I knew there was another angel here, but it wasn't until I saw you in the pool this morning that I knew for sure. I should've known. So much harmony at one of these meetings – so many world leaders singing the same tune…must've been visited by the Melody Angel. And who else would be brave enough to swim in a white bikini?" He lifted his camera. "May I?"

  "Sure," Mel replied, flashing a perfunctory smile as the camera clicked. She waited for him to lower the camera before throwing her body into the sun lounge beside his. Mel closed her eyes and heard more clicks. "Patrick, if you don't put the camera down, I'm going to throw it in the pool. Just like the last one, when we were in Perth."

  "Good thing it's waterproof, then. I'm learning. What can I get you to drink?"

  Mel squinted at him. "This early in the morning? Coffee and juice, which I'm going to drink in reverse order."

  "Yes, madam," a hotel waiter murmured. Mel hadn't seen him until he'd spoken. She thanked him quickly.

  "Better get me a big coffee, too," Patrick said. The sunglasses covered his eyes again. "How come you look so fresh after last night's banquet? Didn't you drink at all?"

  "Sure I did. A few glasses of wine over the course of the evening. I didn't see you there, though. I bet you finished off all of their best Scotch." Mel shook her head. "You and your whisky…"

  "Ah, it's because the weather's too hot here for my kilt," Patrick responded. "If I'd been wearing that, you wouldn't have had eyes for anyone else, I bet."

  Mel laughed. "You have me there. You in a kilt and nothing else is a temptation for any girl, angel or not. And I know what you keep under it."

  "If I'd known you'd be here, I would have packed it anyway, Mel, and to Hell with the weather," Patrick said. "What do you have planned for the day? Or do you fly out today?"

  "Tomorrow night, I fly out," Mel replied. "Today and tomorrow, I'd planned on just exploring a bit of Sri Lanka. Being a tourist for a tiny bit before I go home and…aah, Raphael's got this crazy idea that Lucifer's loose in Western Australia and laying the foundations for a new takeover bid. I'm helping him find out what's really going on."

  "Lucifer? Well, that doesn't surprise me. Aren't the caves of Hell in the West Australian desert? He had to move them a while back due to overcrowding and there's plenty of space to expand there, if you don't mind the killer wildlife. Of course he'd start there – it's close to home for him." Patrick sat up. "Spend the day with me, Mel. Tomorrow, too, if you like. I have a boat booked with some friends. Come join me for a bit of wahoo. I know you'll like it." He winked.

  Mel looked at Patrick. Even in shorts and an open shirt, he looked sexy as Hell. She didn't do demons, but angels were a different story – especially one she knew as well as Patrick. She waited while the waiter set out their drinks, thanking the man and handing him a tip before he disappeared. Sipping her juice, she replied, "First, explain to me exactly what you plan in terms of wahoo."

  Twenty-Two

  "Wahoo! We got one! Ladies first, Mel. Take a seat and I'll strap you in." Patrick pushed her into the chair bolted to the back of the boat as one of the crew placed a rod and reel into her hands.

  She could feel the tension in the line – there was certainly something strong at the other end. The two men pulled straps across her chest and shoulders as she tried to protest.

  "Don't want him pulling you overboard. There are stories of water dragons in these waters," Patrick said as he tightened the straps. "I wouldn't blame him for not wanting to let you go. I wouldn't want to, either."

  "All the water dragons in this ocean are women, Patrick. Surely you know that."

  He eyed her. "How do you know that? They're pretty secretive."

  Mel smiled. "Their leader is as fond of tea as I am when she's on land. A lovely lady, as long as you keep her secrets."

  "So you're friends with the mermaids hereabouts, huh? We'll see by what you catch, then, I imagine." He raised his voice. "Reel him in and we'll have fresh fillets for lunch!"

  Mel felt her arms tiring after ten minutes of fighting what she thought had to be a shark, it was so fierce. Patrick seemed to sense her exhaustion and he dropped to his knees behind her, his arms circling her body to help her reel in the monster fish.

  "We should let him go. He fought well – for his life, Patrick. I'm tired enough to quit and admit he won. I don't need to torture this fish any more," Mel murmured.

  Patrick laughed. "If we don't catch anything, there's nothing for lunch. This one will probably be all we need for the whole boat. Besides, we have to pull him up to release him from the hook. I could just cut the line, but then he'd be hurting with a barbed hook in his mouth. No, he's coming here to give you a big kiss, I'll take a picture of you and your new boyfriend, then you can decide if you want to keep him or let him go." His lips touched the base of her neck. "Have you ever had fresh wahoo, Mel?"

  Mel snorted. "It sounds like something done with no clothes in the privacy of a hotel room, not on a boat full of people. I'm not answering that."

  "I was going to wait until after dinner to offer my services in the privacy of your hotel room, but now works, too. Or it would if…" Two crewmen rushed forward to the port side, gaffs in hand, as Patrick slowed his reeling. "Here he comes. You caught a real monster, Mel!"

  The men hauled the fish aboard and Mel let out a shocked gasp. It looked like it was longer than she was tall – and perhaps weighed more, too.

  One of them knelt on the desperately fighting fish while another cut its throat. All the fight left with its spirit and tears sprang to Mel's eyes. "I take it we're not releasing him now," she said.

  "No," Patrick replied. "But he'll be lunch and dinner, easy. Right – get in there with him. We need a picture of the lady who slayed the monster!" He gave her a push toward the floppy fish and pulled out his camera.

  Despite her protests, the fish was lifted and arranged on the deck, so she could pull his tail up to her chest, displaying the length of him.

  "Smile, Mel," Patrick coaxed and she did. The fish's spirit was in a better place now and it would be a shame to waste his sacrifice or the body he'd left behind.

  "Now, the boys want photos with your monster fish, too. I think it's a record size for them and they want proof to show the other guys in the pub when they get home. Wash up and grab a drink from the cooler while I do the honours. They'll gut, fillet and cook him fresh for you – all part of the service." Patrick stared at her. "There's really nothing you can't do, is there? Charming the Indian Ocean mermaids, hooking the catch of the year, never missing a conference and…are you seriously hunting down Lucifer? He'd best watch out – he doesn't know what he's in for if you find him. Have you and Raphael…?"

  Mel laughed. "Raphael and I will never fly. I think his heart's set on someone else entirely and I hope they're happy together." Patrick's face lit up and Mel impulsively kissed his cheek. "I'll go wash up," she said.

  Mel used the head and started washing her hands in the tiny sink. Glancing at the even tinier mirror, she noticed a streak of blood on her shirt from the fish. She scrubbed at it but eventually gave up and returned to the deck, grateful that she'd chosen to wear her bikini under her shirt. At least the transparent cotton didn't show her underwear.

  "Raphael's crazy," Patrick choked out. He couldn't seem to pull his eyes from her.

  "No, Raphael's gay and in love with my brother," Mel replied gently. Her eyes searched his face. "Will you spend the evening with
me? Dinner, drinks and…later, too?"

  Patrick beamed. "Your wish is my command. For as long as you like."

  Mel sighed inwardly even as she smiled. Patrick might have been the perfect partner if their relationship could ever be equal. As it was, though… "We have until my flight leaves tomorrow."

  Twenty-Three

  Mel admired the way the water cascaded over his hard body in the shower. Was it his well-muscled chest, the sculpted way the whole package was put together, or simply how well he put it to use for her pleasure? Patrick had certainly perfected both his skills and his assets over time. She could still remember the first time and how nervous he'd been…

  Mel took a mouthful of water, swished it around her mouth and spat into the sink, running the tap to send the toothpaste residue down the drain.

  "Say the word, Mel, and I'll transfer to Australia or wherever you're working next. All this is yours for the asking, any time you want." He gestured at his well-built body.

  "You're terrified of snakes. Do you know how many reptiles we have in Australia – the really deadly kind, as well as just the cuddly ones? The closest snakeless island would be Tasmania or New Zealand. And what will happen to politics in the UK without you, Patrick? You're not just in Ireland because it's one of the few places in the world without snakes. Any time you're away, I swear violence at least doubles in the north. It seems a bit selfish to let people die just so that I can share a shower with you more than once every year or two." Mel splashed water on her face and dried it with the handtowel.

  He sounded wistful. "You could move back to the UK. I'd treat you like a queen – you know that. And we'd love to have you. Politics in Europe isn't the same with this latest global financial crisis, or whatever they're calling this fit of hiccups…"

  "And let Lucifer run rampant over Australia in the meantime? I'm where I need to be, as are you. I've been working in the Indo-Pacific region for a long time now and I can't just up and leave." Mel paused to take a deep breath. She hadn't meant to sound so sharp. She exhaled, long and slow, before saying, "We have responsibilities, Patrick – and personal relationships always come second to those. We're angels – this world must come first. No matter how irresistible you are in the shower." Her cheeks heated with a faint blush that she couldn't blame on the steam in the hotel bathroom.