For Love of an Angel

by Rosalie Lario

  “Wake, beloved,” he whispered in her ear.

  His words jolted Eva from the mindless bliss of sleep. She opened her eyes to the dusky light shining through a crack in the window curtains and blinked until the man lying on top of her came into focus. Michael.

  I thought I’d imagined how beautiful he is. But she hadn’t. His jaw was set, emphasizing the stunning lines of his face, and his topaz eyes glittered with unmistakable desire.

  “What--” She gulped. “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard you cry out and came in to check on you,” he said, his voice tight. “You pulled me onto the bed.”

  That tug she’d imagined in her dream? That had been her pulling him onto the bed? Oh lord.

  “Do you want me to leave?” With a pained expression, he made as if to pull away.

  “Wait,” she said, and before she even realized it her arms closed around the bare skin of his back.

  Michael looked just as surprised as she felt. But she wasn’t ready for him to go.

  “Not yet,” she said softly. Not when he was so warm and when his flesh was so smooth and hard against hers. He was like a work of art come to life, every muscle on his back defined and twitching against her fingers.

  His eyes narrowed into a fierce expression of lust that threatened to take her breath away. There was no doubt that he wanted her, and he proved it by closing the distance between them and claiming her lips in a steaming hot kiss. His lips and his tongue were made for pleasure, sending echoes of vibration sizzling down her body. What would that tongue of his feel like sliding along other parts of her flesh?

  As if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, his fingers made their way down once again. When he touched her this time, she went over the edge with a blinding intensity that tore a soft cry from her lips. He kissed her as if he wanted to drink in the sound of her ecstasy.

  Whoa, she thought once she could think again. That was amazing. Earthshaking.

  What was she doing with a Fallen in her bed? Was she out of her mind?

  Even if he wasn’t evil as she’d been led to believe, he was still dangerous. Just knowing him put her life in danger. Imagine if the Consortium somehow found out they’d shared an intimate moment.

  This was all too much.

  Eva gave a light push on Michael’s shoulders. He got the hint, because he tensed with a softly muttered oath before rolling off her and rising from the bed.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled to his bare back, her cheeks flaming hot. “I just…I need to get ready for work.” And the entire day she was there, she’d be worrying if other people would somehow be able to tell she’d been touched by a Fallen.

  He ran a hand through his hair, uttering another human-like sigh. “I understand, Eva.” He left her bedroom and clicked the door shut behind him.

  Did he understand? Because she didn’t. How had her life gotten so complicated in the span of a few hours? Why was she so confused?

  The non-stop buzz of the coffee house suddenly seemed like too much to bear. She’d never praised her luck in the career lottery, but she hadn’t questioned it too much either. After all, it wasn’t like she could change anything. But now she wondered if there was another way. A chance at a different sort of life.

  “As what, Eva, a fugitive?” No, the only place a life like that would lead her was to the crematorium. Angels were not to be trifled with. As intriguing as the Fallen in her living room was, there was no future there for her.

  Which left the coffee shop. “And I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry up.”

  With a deep sigh, she rose off her bed and prepared for her day of work. Then another thought hit her.

  What was Michael going to do with himself while she was gone?

  ***

  The day dragged on and on until Eva began to wonder if it would ever end. When the time to clock out finally arrived, she left the coffee shop in a hurry. Thank goodness she didn’t have a double shift today. She didn’t know how she would have made another five hours.

  Unlike yesterday, there wasn’t a hint of rain in the late afternoon sky. The sun shone bright where it peeked out from in between the tall buildings. Today was a perfect spring day. For the first time in a long time, she stopped to look at the angel tower. Taking up a good-sized portion of the land that had once comprised Central Park, its height was astounding. Built of stone, the tower was gothic in architecture, resembling a massive haunted castle. Scaffolding surrounded the building on two sides, so high in the air she wondered how the construction workers managed to breathe up there. They’d been building for almost ten years and the tower still wasn’t complete. It looked fairly intact, though. How much longer before the angels considered it done?

  And what will they do to us once it is?

  She spotted a Consortium Guard leaving the front entrance. He was headed in her direction. Doing a quick about-face, she continued her walk home. Right now her objective was to avoid Consortium as much as possible. One of them might eventually get suspicious about the guilty expression she couldn’t quite seem to hide.

  Eva almost made it to her apartment without being spotted. Almost. She had her key ready to go in the lock when the voice sounded out behind her.

  “There you are, Eva.”

  She couldn’t hold back the groan this time. How had he managed to open his front door without her hearing him? Maybe he hadn’t even locked it so he could hop out and catch her off guard the way he liked to. “Travis, I’m so not in the mood—”

  “Since you’re home early, I thought we could go to dinner at that Italian diner you like so much. Maybe catch a movie. Saved by an Angel is playing at the theatre down the street.”

  Eva turned to face Travis, who leaned against his doorjamb with his arms casually crossed. How much was she willing to bet he’d struck that pose on purpose to showcase the puny muscles on his arms? Unbidden, the thought of the heavy corded muscles on Michael’s arms drifted into her mind. “I told you, we’re not together anymore, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

  He shot her an offended look. “Friends can go to dinner and a movie too, you know.”

  Yeah. Right.

  “It’s not like you have anything else to do tonight,” he added.

  Yet another thinly veiled dig at her lack of family. She fought to keep calm. Travis was trying to get a rise out of her, and falling for it would only increase the amount of time it took to get rid of him.

  Lifting a fist to her mouth, she faked a cough. “Listen, I’m not feeling too well. I’m pretty sure I’m coming down with something. Feels like it could be strep throat.”

  His eyes widened and he uncrossed his arms, taking a fraction of a step back into his apartment. “Oh…really? Are you sure?”

  She hid a smile behind her raised fist, waiting to drop her hand until she’d managed to school her expression into a pained one. If there was anything guaranteed to frighten Travis away, it was the possibility of sickness. “I think so.”

  “Oh. I guess we’d better postpone dinner then. I can’t afford to miss out on any work.” He took another backward step into his apartment before hastily adding, “I hope you feel better soon.”

  Perfect. Turning back to face her door, Eva let go of the smile she’d been holding back. “Thanks.” She unlocked her door, remembering to call out to him a millisecond before his door swung shut. “Don’t forget to look for my key!”

  Stepping into her apartment was like walking into an alternate dimension. Everything looked the same, but the delicious aroma wafting out of her kitchen was entirely foreign. She’d certainly never made anything that smelled half as delicious as what she caught a whiff of now.

  Angels cook?

  The thought of brawny Michael flitting around her tiny kitchen like some sort of gourmet chef was too inconceivable. Surely it couldn’t be…

  Eva walked to the doorway of the kitchen and stopped cold at the sight in front of her. She threw her hands to her face in an attempt to b
lock the strangled laugh that shot out of her mouth, but he must have heard her because he turned, one brow cocked.

  “Something wrong?”

  Her gaze raked over the apron he’d borrowed. It barely covered his front, the words Naughty Hottie scribbled over the portion covering the top of his chest. So true.

  Biting her lip, she murmured, “No. Um…what are you doing?”

  “Cooking.” He looked at her as if that should be obvious.

  “I didn’t know angels…” She trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable with her train of thought.

  “Eat?” he supplied, practically reading her mind.

  “What? It’s not like I’ve ever met an angel before,” she said in a defensive tone.

  He gave her such an intent look that she felt a blush form. “I suppose not. We do, in fact, eat. We’re similar to humans in that way.” Turning, he grabbed her matching red potholders off their hook above the stove and bent to open the oven door.

  She tried her hardest not to stare but it was impossible. He had a serious Grade “A” ass, high and rounded and no doubt so firm she could bounce a quarter off it. She scooted back a few feet so she wouldn’t be tempted to do something crazy. Like grab it.

  “Was your neighbor disturbing you?” he asked in a conversational tone.

  “Huh?” She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Travis? You heard us talking from all the way in here?”

  “My sense of hearing is far more acute than your species.”

  Good to know.

  He took a pan out of the oven and set it on the stove before turning to face her. “I could take care of him for you.”

  “Travis?” When he nodded, she stared at him. Somehow she got the feeling he meant “take care of” in the mafia sense. “He’s fine. Just a minor annoyance.”

  A flash of emotion flickered in his eyes. “Say the word and he’ll never bother you again.”

  Something about the way he said that…why, he almost sounded like he was jealous! But that couldn’t be the case, could it?

  “I’ve already set the table,” he added as he turned and grabbed a carving knife from the counter. “Why don’t you go have a seat? Dinner’s ready.”

  And to think she’d been worried about him being here alone all day. It looked like he’d made himself right at home.

  She hovered behind him uncertainly before taking his suggestion and heading into the tiny nook off the kitchen that served as her dining room. Sure enough, the square wooden table was set with her silverware and her favorite linen, bright red to liven up the small, windowless space. Absently, she took a seat. What was happening here? A Fallen was in her kitchen making her dinner. How much more insane could this be?

  The soft pad of footsteps preceded Michael’s entrance into the dining room. The angel moved with the easy grace of a jungle cat. No doubt he was even more dangerous.

  He set two steaming plates down at the table, one directly in front of her. A thick slice of roasted chicken lay next to a vegetable medley featuring seasoned green beans and tiny red potatoes. Her stomach gave an appreciative rumble at the delicious sight.

  The angel shot her a devastating grin, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. Somehow though, she got the sense it wasn’t the aroma of dinner he was taking in, but her scent. She shook off the uncomfortable but arousing thought. Taking another look at the apron he wore, she burst out laughing. “Maybe you should take that thing off.”

  He lifted a brow and looked down. Then, with a shrug, he untied the apron strings and drew it over his neck.

  Suddenly Eva regretted her suggestion because it left his striking chest bare. A flare of heat broke out along her body, leaving her wet and aroused. She shifted in her chair. “We really need to get you a shirt.”

  Letting out a low laugh, Michael took a seat. “I hope it’s to your taste.” He speared a bite of chicken and brought it to his lips, slowly biting into the morsel until it slid off the fork. She didn’t realize she was staring until he lifted his gaze and threw her a teasing wink.

  Oh heavens, shoot me now. Casting her gaze down in mortification, Eva picked up her fork and took an absent stab at a potato. “Do you always cook like this at home?”

  “No,” he said with a chuckle. “Mara cooks most of our meals. She’s the master chef. I’ve learned all my skills from her.”

  Mara? Another woman?

  She tried to ignore the flare of jealousy that ignited in her stomach. After all, she knew next to nothing about this angel. It wasn’t her business to care if he had someone else.

  But then he did say he was searching for a mate, so what gave? She tried for her best casual tone. “You live with this Mara?”

  “Yes.”

  The flare of envy morphed into a raging inferno. Perhaps angels weren’t monogamous beings.

  “Don’t fret, beloved,” Michael said in an even voice. “Mara is my sister.”

  “Oh.” Relief cascaded over her, cooling her ire. “I wasn’t fretting.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he replied in a tone that made it obvious he didn’t believe her.

  Flustered, she lifted her fork and popped the potato skewered to it into her mouth. A small moan escaped her lips. This might be the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

  “Exquisite,” his deep voice rumbled.

  “It is,” she agreed, looking up at him. With a startled flush, she realized he hadn’t been referring to the food. No, he gazed at her lips with an undisguised look of hunger. Just like that, her appetite was gone. Simply being around this angel made her too wired to eat. He exuded power and raw sexuality, and her body was so in tune to him she feared she would melt to the floor in a puddle of desire.

  Dropping her fork with a clatter, she asked the question she’d been mulling over in her head all day. “You said you thought I would make you a good mate. What does that entail?”

  His silky laugh washed over her. “Oh, beloved, you have no ide—”

  “Besides the obvious, I mean,” she clarified with a flush.

  Michael lost his amused expression. His eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t identify and he lowered his fork to his plate. “I won’t lie to you, Eva, even if it is at my expense. Were you to become my mate, you would live a cursed life.”

  Her eyes widened and she gave a nervous gulp. “Cursed?”

  Chapter Six

  Michael’s gaze on hers was bright and candid. There was no doubt in Eva’s mind he was determined to be truthful with her.

  She pushed her plate away and sat straight back in her chair. “What do you mean when you say I would live a cursed life if I decided to be your mate?”

  He closed his eyes, and a weary expression came to his face. Somehow she’d never imagined angels would feel that sort of emotion. How little she knew about his species.

  “Think of what you know of the Fallen,” he finally replied, skewering her with his intense gaze. “Of everything you’ve heard. We’re hunted, now more than ever. My former brethren feared what would happen if we were able to amass any sort of offense against them. Anyone who joins us will be hunted.”

  Of course. That was no more than what she’d already deduced for herself.

  “It’s not just that.” His chair made a groaning sound as he dragged it back. Lifting to his feet, he raked a hand through his hair. She couldn’t help but stiffen when he strode forward and squatted in front of her so he was at eye level. “Eva, me and the rest of the Fallen, we’ve decided we can’t simply stand back and allow our former brethren to destroy humans. We’re determined to fight them. If you join with me, you join the war.”

  Eva blinked as she absorbed his words. “Seems to me I’m already at war, except no one else around me knows it.”

  He took a deep breath. “I can promise I would protect you with my life, but I couldn’t guarantee your safety.”

  His words rang of truth. “Do you have a plan for defeating the other angels?”

  “Humans grossly outnumber angels.
Even with our superior strengths and abilities, we couldn’t stand against a united front of humans.”

  “So you plan to make a worldwide revelation about what the other angels really intend to do to us?”

  The problem is”—he fidgeted and looked away—”so far no human we’ve informed of the truth believes us. Not with the propaganda spread about the Fallen, and not when it’s too easy to believe they will be protected by the angels.”

  He looked so disheartened by what he told her that Eva couldn’t help but reach out and touch her hand to his shoulder. “I believe you.”

  His eyes trailed down to her hand before he returned a heated gaze to her face. Like a switch had been flipped, the air was once again fraught with sexual tension. “As I said, you’re special.”

  She squeezed her legs together to calm the sudden ache between her thighs. “I understand the danger in what you’re doing, but I have to ask, why the need for a mate? I would think you’d be focused on the fight.”

  With a sigh, Michael rose and stalked out of the room.

  Had she offended him somehow? Puzzled, she rose to her feet and followed him to the living room.

  He strode to the window and surveyed the now-dark sky. “There are some things you should know about angels,” he said without looking her way. “Our immortality and our strength, they aren’t necessarily infinite.”

  She furrowed her brows. “Huh?”

  “Sex.” He turned to face her. “Sex is a necessary part of our livelihood. With it, we’re strong. With the exception of being burned alive, we cannot be killed. But without sex…after a certain number of years our strength and immortality begin to fade. Eventually, after hundreds of years, it’s lost all together. We grow old, we die. Just like mortals.”

  She simply stared at him. Finally realizing her mouth was open, she snapped it shut. “So you’re telling me you’re looking for a mate because it’s been a long time since you…you know…did the deed?”