What exactly did he mean by that? How could any guy sound so weary when Christian could only be around forty years old? Yet his tone of voice sounded more like he was a hundred. After sitting, she put on her seat belt while Christian went around to the driver’s side.
She closed her eyes, trusting Christian to get them back to his apartment without any trouble. While Joan rode, she thought about the conversation she’d had with Lucian earlier in the day at the diner.
“You’re looking rather chipper this afternoon,” Lucian said as he sat in his regular booth. “You must have got some last night, right?”
She set the cup of coffee in front of him and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I did. Do you want the details?”
He shuddered, drawing a chuckle from her. “Have I ever wanted to hear your sexual exploits?”
“No, but it’s so much fun to tease you.” Joan leaned over to brush a kiss over his cheek. “Thank you for caring about me.”
Lucian ducked his head, but not before Joan swore she saw his cheeks turn pink. It tickled her to know she could embarrass a sophisticated man like Lucian.
When she returned with his food, he asked, “Are you going to tell me who the lucky man was?”
“Surprisingly, it was Christian Vosberg. We ran into each other down at one of the abandoned warehouses I go to when I want to talk to some of the working girls. One thing led to another, and I wound up at his apartment.” Joan shrugged. “I never thought a guy like him would slum with a girl like me, but you know what? He doesn’t seem all that snobby to me.”
“It’s hard for any guy to seem snobby when he has his dick buried in you,” Lucian muttered.
Confused, she stared at him. “Are you jealous?”
“Not jealous. Just pissed off. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen because now I have to do something I don’t want to do, and I hate being forced into this position.” Lucian glared at the table in front of him. “Why couldn’t you two have kept your hands off each other?”
“What does me sleeping with Christian Vosberg have to do with you?” Joan was confounded by Lucian’s apparent anger at the situation.
Lucian shot to his feet, and the sound of the plate shattering on the floor caused the noise in the diner to stop. Joan met Lucian’s dark gaze, and she almost sobbed at the agony she saw there. Whatever Lucian was feeling was hurting him so deeply, Joan almost questioned how the man was still standing.
“It has everything to do with me. You might say that sounds arrogant, but still I’m the one who is stuck in the middle, having to do this horrible thing without being able to have a choice in the matter. I wouldn’t wish harm on either one of you, yet harm is what must happen.” Lucian cradled Joan’s face in his hands. “You’re a wonderful girl, Joan. I hope he thinks you’re worth what he has to give up.”
After saying those cryptic words, Lucian tossed some money on the table before stalking out of the diner. Joan knew she looked like an idiot, with her mouth hanging open and shock on her face. What had set Lucian off? And what kind of history did Lucian and Christian have with each other?
“How do you know Lucian?” she asked without opening her eyes.
Christian grunted. “I told you I don’t know any Lucian.”
“Well, you might not remember him, but he certainly remembers you. Nearly exploded when he found out we were having sex. I’ve never seen him this upset, and we’ve been through a lot of shit together.” She twisted in the seat, then looked at Christian.
“What’s his last name? I’ve done business with a lot of people over the years. It’s hard to remember most of them.”
The way he said that told her it took more energy than he was willing to expand to remember people. Joan thought for a moment, then laughed.
“You know what? I have no idea what his last name is. I don’t remember him ever saying it, and for most of our acquaintance, I’ve been more pre-occupied getting back on my feet than wondering what his name was.”
“What does he look like?”
At least Christian was making an effort to talk to her. Joan got the feeling he didn’t chat up many people. Of course, she also got the feeling that he was more isolated than she’d thought, considering he could surround himself with an entourage if he’d wanted.
“Lucian could pass for your twin, except he has this weird cross-shaped brand on his left cheek. Also, he has these really strange eyes. No whites, just all black. He said he had a medical condition that caused it.”
If she hadn’t been looking right at Christian, she never would’ve noticed him stiffen when she described Lucian. So he does know him. Interesting. And by the way they each reacted, what they knew about each other wasn’t good.
“Doesn’t sound familiar to me, and I guess I would remember a man looking like that if I ever saw him.”
“Right.” Okay, he was lying, but she didn’t call him on it. It really wasn’t any of her business at the moment why they chose to dislike one another. “What exactly do you do, Christian?”
“I’m in the protection business, sort of a personal security company.” He pulled up to an underground garage, then slid a card through a slot. The gate swung open before he drove through.
“You must be good at it since you have money.” She gestured toward the dashboard of the car. “I haven’t seen many of these out on the streets.”
Christian’s smile was full of memories and he shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice keeping people safe. Makes it easy to earn money if you’re the best at what you do.”
“True.”
Chapter Six
He parked in a spot then came around to help her out. She slid her arm through his as they made their way to the elevator. Suddenly, a man stepped from the shadows, and Joan gasped. The stranger’s silver eyes traced over her in one quick glance, yet she swore he saw all of her deepest secrets, and in some way found her wanting.
“What do you want, Mika’il?” Christian moved her behind him as he confronted the other man.
“Have you made plans to take care of our little problem?” Mika’il crossed his arms over his chest, unhappiness evident in every inch of his body.
“Yes. Montgomery and Bradford are coming in tomorrow to help me. We’ll execute our plan tomorrow night. You’re not needed around here.”
Mika’il’s head reared back like the man had an issue with Christian talking to him like that. “You have another problem as well. She is marked.” Mika’il waved toward Joan.
“I know.” Christian gripped Joan’s hand tightly.
“When did you find out?”
Mika’il’s narrow-eyed stare caused Joan to shiver.
“Tonight. I’ll deal with it after the other situation is taken care of.” Christian started moving in the direction of the elevators again. “You can go away, Mika’il. We will ask for your help if we need it.”
Christian’s tone said he wasn’t planning on asking. Joan just stayed quiet. There were other things at work here besides two men having a pissing contest about a job. There were undertones in their words that reminded her of how Lucian talked sometimes, like there was an entire conversation going on beneath the words he spoke.
Mika’il pointed at Joan. “You must take care of her, Christian. If he finds out that you are with her, he will do everything he can to hurt you.”
“I know that. You don’t have to remind me how he lives to make my life miserable,” Christian said, then snarled. “Just leave, Mika’il. If I need you, I’ll call.”
Joan blinked, and Mika’il was gone. She hadn’t seen him move, and she couldn’t hear any footsteps echoing through the concrete garage. Christian took a deep breath, and she rested her hand on his back.
“Have I caused problems for you?” She had received that message loud and clear from Mika’il, even though she didn’t know what he meant by her being marked.
“With Mika’il?” Christian punched the call button, then shook his head. “No. I’m often in trouble with him, so wh
at’s one more mark on my card? You have created other problems for me.”
“Maybe I should just grab a cab and go home,” she suggested, not wanting to cause him any trouble. She hadn’t spent much time with Christian, but there was something about him that touched her and she didn’t want to give him up yet.
The doors opened and Christian tugged her inside the lift. He slid his card for the penthouse then embraced her, making sure they touched from chest to thigh. It was as if he needed her warmth as much as she needed his.
“No. You’ll stay with me. I can protect you, and you are causing me no more problems than I encounter most days in my job.” Christian nuzzled along her jaw. “I don’t know why, but I’m willing to fight for you, Joan. I haven’t felt this way in years, and I don’t want to lose it, not if it means giving you up.”
She encircled his neck before tilting her head to give him access to her neck. “I’ve never felt this way before either. It’s like I’ve been waiting for you forever, and somehow we were meant to be together, even though I know nothing about you.”
He tensed. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told about myself.”
“Why don’t we go to your place, get undressed and climb into bed? We can tell each other all our secrets then.” She grinned. “I was going to suggest having drinks as well, but I haven’t had one in five years, and I probably shouldn’t start again.”
“Good idea.” Christian led the way into his apartment.
They undressed in silence before slipping under the covers. He brought her close to him until she rested her head on his chest. She trailed her hand over his stomach, entertained by the rippling muscles under his skin.
“I’ve been wondering how you got those scars on your shoulder blades,” she said to break the quiet.
Christian sighed. “I’m not sure how to explain. You don’t believe in God, his angels or the devil.”
“What do those have to do with the marks?” She wasn’t sure where he was going with that line of conversation.
“I’m an angel, or I was an angel until I fell. The marks on my shoulders are from when Mika’il removed my wings.” He stopped, and there didn’t seem to be anything else to say.
Joan pushed away from him to sit up. She let the sheets pool around her waist as she stared at Christian.
“Mika’il? As in the guy who accosted you in the garage several minutes ago?”
He nodded, but kept quiet.
“You’re a fallen angel?” At his second nod, she laughed. “Aren’t fallen angels demons? I thought you were all supposed to be crazy and evil.”
Christian shifted until he leaned back against the headboard. “Some of us are, and those are the ones I’m charged with dealing with, so they don’t hurt mortals.”
“Mortals?”
It was sad that Christian was this crazy, because he was certainly the most gorgeous man she’d ever met. If he’s crazy, why aren’t you running out of his apartment screaming for the cops? It was a good question, and Joan wasn’t sure she could answer it.
“Yes. Mortals, or humans as you call yourselves. You are God’s beloved children, and I’m charged with protecting you from the evils of the unrepentants. I’m an Enforcer, a fallen angel who has agreed to hunt his own kind in order to someday win back his chance at Heaven.” Sadness shone in Christian’s eyes.
As strange as the conversation was, Joan sensed a current of truth running through his words. She’d never really believed in God, Heaven and all that stuff. She’d pulled herself up from the gutter on her own without help from any angel, unless Lucian counted as one.
“Who is Mika’il?”
Christian grimaced. “He’s the Warrior angel, one of God’s archangels. He’s in charge of the Enforcers, though I’m sure he’d rather allow us to go our own way. Mika’il has a lot of responsibilities, and he doesn’t really need to deal with us.”
“Why did you fall? Didn’t it have to do with Lucifer and his believing in the superiority of angels?” Joan tried to remember what she’d learnt in Sunday school.
“Yes, that was the fall, and it was all Lucifer’s fault, though all the angels who participated are to blame for their own actions.” Christian fidgeted with the edge of the sheet. “I didn’t rebel. I chose to leave Heaven because I wanted to prove that God was forgiving if you ask for it. Little did I know that He wouldn’t distinguish between me and those who truly did rebel. He refused me Heaven, and told Mika’il to take my wings. Then Mika’il offered me the position of Enforcer.”
“So you’re some kind of angelic police officer? Keeping the crazy fallen from hurting mortals?” Joan asked.
“Yes. It’s my only hope to get back to where my true home is. My heart doesn’t lie here on this earth. It’s like having a piece of my soul ripped out of my body to be denied His presence.” He reached out to take her hands in his. “Or it used to be. Somehow you’ve filled that empty spot in my heart, and I’m not sure why.”
Joan shrugged. If a former angel didn’t have the answer, then she certainly didn’t.
“Do you believe me?” He studied her face.
“I can’t say I do believe you a hundred percent, but I have to admit that there’s an instinctive push from inside of me to accept what you’ve told me.” She rubbed her thumb over Christian’s knuckles. “I guess there are worse things you could be.”
“I could be a serial killer or a True Demon, those dark creatures on which your nightmares are based,” Christian informed her.
“True. Do you want me to tell you my story, or can you read my mind?”
Christian shook his head in denial. “I could, but I never would without your permission. It’s an invasion of privacy, whether you know I’m doing it or not. Please, tell me your story. I wish to hear about you.”
She took a deep breath. “To be honest, I had a great childhood. Two parents who loved me and a brother who adored me, when he wasn’t annoying the shit out of me. Then I went away to school, and nine-eleven happened. Even though I didn’t know anyone who died that day, it changed something inside me. I was going to school here in the city, and somehow I lost my sense of security.”
Nodding, he squeezed her hand. “That day affected everyone who lived in New York in ways we still haven’t figured out.”
“I started drinking, and soon was staying as drunk as I could. It dulled the pain inside of me. I was sober for maybe a month out of seven years after nine-eleven. But at my lowest point, when I was kneeling in an alleyway, throwing up nothing but alcohol, I could feel my body dying in a way I’d never felt before. It hit me that I was killing myself and I didn’t want to do that anymore.”
She remembered that night clearly. She’d managed to get together enough money for some cheap whiskey, then had slunk into the closest alley to drink it. After she’d finished half the bottle, her body had revolted, and she’d started throwing up. There’d been blood on her lips when she’d finished. Like she’d told Christian, she’d been able to feel her body dying, and it had scared her because she hadn’t been ready to die.
Tears had flowed from her eyes as she’d tried to get her liquor-soaked brain to work, then she’d felt a presence beside her. Lucian had stood there, his dark eyes gleaming with the promise of help. He’d held out his hand, and she’d taken it, somehow knowing he could give her the strength to get sober and be free of the craving that chewed chunks out of her very soul.
“I got help, and after I was physically healed, I started working on my mental and emotional state. Once that process began, I found a place to live and got a job. In the beginning, it was so difficult to not take a sip of a beer or order a glass of wine, but I got stronger with each day, and now it’s only on a rare occasion that I wish I could drink.” Joan scooted closer to Christian. “I help out the homeless, the junkies and the street workers because I know what it’s like to be where they are. I never did drugs because alcohol was all I could deal with and afford. I believe everyone can be redeemed with a littl
e help.”
Christian cradled her face with his hands before brushing a soft kiss over her lips. “You have a good soul, Joan. I’m sure all those you help see you as their guardian angel, and what you do is far more important than my job.”
She didn’t want to talk anymore. She would think about what Christian had told her the next day, but at the moment, all she wished was that Christian would make love to her. Joan moved his hands then fell over onto her back, pulling him with her.
The moment he settled over her, she sighed, knowing this was where she needed him. Joan needed him to press her into the mattress. Joan wound her leg around his leg before arching up to rub her mound against his length.
“Wait.” He rolled away to dig through the drawer again. His triumphant crow as he held up a foil packet made her laugh.
“Hurry,” she pushed, wanting him inside her as soon as possible.
After tearing open the packaging, he rolled the rubber over his length. Christian returned to his place between her legs. Joan held her breath as he sank into her wet pussy, and the slow way he did so as if he was staking a claim to every inch of her.
She wanted to be his in every way, and if that meant accepting his story about being an angel, she would think about it because really, what harm was there in him thinking he was a former angel?
All thought left her head when Christian started moving, thrusting in and pulling out in a slow, steady rhythm guaranteed to drive her crazy in a short time. Joan ran her hands over his straining back, tracing the scars, then down to his ass where she took his firm cheeks in a hard grip.
Their lovemaking had the feeling of a dance where they were the only ones who heard the music, and Joan had never had that happen with any of the men she’d slept with before Christian. She was so caught up in the heat roiling off him along with the scent of his sweat that she never noticed when he started moving faster and faster.
Soon he was driving into her, forcing her breath out of her lungs in loud gasps each time he took her.
New York Page 7
