by Cassie Miles
"That's…rational." The more he used his voice, the more he become fully ensconced in his human anatomy. He felt stronger, capable of walking.
"Maybe Rafe could help you with the python," Jenna suggested. "He's really good with animals, and—"
"No," Dinah snapped. "I'm not touching your disgusting reptile, and that's final."
"Dinah, if you're going to play Eve in the Garden of Eden, you have to get close to the snake."
"Oh, God, you remind me of poor old Eddy Benson, always trying to tell me what to do and what not to do."
Rafe's ears pricked up. "Did you know Eddy well?"
"Well enough," she said.
"You must be saddened by his death."
"Oh, sure." She gazed into her mirror and touched the corner of her mouth, smoothing her lipstick. "It's always really sad when somebody dies before their time."
How had she known? "Why would you say that? If his death was due to a heart attack, it must have been his time."
"Maybe you're right." Again, she looked at him. "You're deep, aren't you? I like that in a man."
Jenna made a loud, harrumphing noise. "I'm asking for the last time, Dinah, will you come with me so we can—"
"No. For the last time. They're just going to have to rewrite the script or get a double for me in those scenes."
When Jenna turned to leave, Rafe called after her. "Wait. I need to talk with you."
"Stay with me," Dinah said. Clearly, her words were a command. "Right here. Right now."
Whether human or angel, Rafe took orders from no one, except the saints. The human blood flowing through his body warmed. Yet, he must not insult Dinah. The guardian had suggested that she had information about Eddy's death.
Acting upon an instinct that he did not completely comprehend, he caught her manicured hand in his and lifted her fingertips to his lips, lightly brushing her scented skin with a kiss. "If I obeyed you, Dinah, what sort of man would I be?"
"Ooh, Rafe. Very suave." Her greenish eyes shone hard as perfectly matched emeralds. For an instant, he glimpsed a fierce strength behind Dinah's silly posturing. She whispered, "Most men learn to obey me and love it. Don't try to stand up to me. You haven't got a prayer."
Ironically, prayer was the one resource Rafe had in large supply. "It's hard to believe you don't already have a boyfriend."
"Maybe I do." For an instant, he saw honest emotion in her studied, sultry gaze.
"Do you love him?"
She tossed her head. "Leave me, Rafe."
"As you wish."
He exited to the soundstage, scanning with his imperfect human eyes for a sight of Jenna.
She stood beside the catering tables with a piece of chocolate fudge in her hand. As soon as she caught sight of him, she pivoted and stalked toward the room where her animals were housed. Her long, curling hair bounced as she walked. Reflected lights from the set picked out strands of pure gold. Though her torso was hidden beneath the oversized red sweater, her shapely legs were nicely displayed by the fitted black leggings.
Rafe found himself staring at the delicate tapering of her ankles, the enticing swell of her calves and her thighs.
"Jenna," he called to her.
She whirled. Her hair spun behind her. Her complexion blushed pink. When she inhaled, her breasts lifted beneath the sweater.
A work of art, Rafe thought. His admiration for her spirited beauty was similar to the sort of appreciation he had for the works of Michelangelo and Rodin. Yet in his mortal body, he experienced a physical stirring. Beneath his jeans, Rafe felt himself harden in arousal.
Shocked by this response, he was struck motionless, staring at her as she marched back toward him. Her breasts! The slight motion of them caused desire to explode within him.
When she stood in front of him with her fists planted at her waist, outlining the hourglass shape beneath her sweater, he felt weak-kneed and helpless. This was absurd! He was Rafael, an all-powerful Avenging Angel. He was a superior being. He was above such yearnings. And yet his blood hummed through his veins. His mortal body was paralyzed with the desire to make love to this woman.
"I suppose," she snapped, "you think that little performance was cute."
"Cute?"
"First, you tell me that you're gay. Then, you lurk around in Dinah's dressing room."
"Gay," he mumbled dumbly. Had he told her he was gay?
"If you didn't want to go out with me, you could at least have been honest."
"I want to," he said. He wanted to take her in his arms, to feel the softness of her breasts. But how could he begin? What should he say? It had been many lifetimes since he'd engaged in courtship. "Dinner. Can we have dinner?"
When Rafe had been a man, centuries ago, there had been no such preliminaries. The only women he had known, in the biblical sense, had been paid to practice the art of love. Only once had he thought of marriage, but the woman he wished to wed was far too highborn for him, unattainable. He had forgotten all about her…until now.
Jenna glared at him. "Are you asking me out to dinner?"
"Yes. That's what I am doing." Rafe had observed other men as they engaged in this ritual. "It seems appropriate to offer food."
"No, thanks. I don't need a pity date." Her slender shoulders rose and fell in a charming shrug. "Let's just forget this ever happened, okay?"
Should he agree? Should he insist? "Okay."
"Come with me, Rafe. Even if Dinah refuses to spend any time with the animals, you need to get familiar with them."
She pivoted and headed back toward Darius the tiger. Rafe wanted to follow, but his erection made it difficult to walk swiftly. He limped along, despising his all-too-human response to a pretty woman.
He made it to the room full of cages. Unlike the first time he'd encountered her menagerie, the animals gave no sign of recognizing him. Instead of gazing with reverence, the spider monkeys screeched so loudly that the sound hurt his ears.
Jenna informed him, "We have a meeting with Hugh Montclair at eight o'clock. That means we should leave here at about seven-thirty. I'll drive."
"Yes," he said.
He was unable to take his eyes off her. When she leaned into the pen to pick up one of the pot-bellied piglets, her sweater slid up, revealing the curve of her firm, round bottom. The vision was more spectacular than the Sistine Chapel. Rafe groaned.
"What?" Jenna turned toward him. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ill?"
"No." His throat constricted. His voice was hoarse. "I'm all right."
"You look kind of strange." She placed the piglet on the floor.
"Fine," he said. "I'm fine."
"A couple of days ago, Eddy said one of my pigs was sick, but I can't remember which one. I probably shouldn't say this, but they all look pretty much alike to me."
She took another pig from the enclosure. "Anyway, we need to work with herding them. After the success of the movie Babe, Alex thinks pigs should have a more prominent role in the Garden of Eden. How's that for logic?"
Rafe's brain had stuck on her mention of Eddy Benson. The murder of Eddy Benson was why he was here, in mortal form. Though it seemed impossible, he had completely forgotten his mission for several minutes.
Jenna picked up another pig. The other two stayed close to her, huddling near her for protection.
Rafe forced himself to speak. "Tell me about Eddy and the sick pig."
"Well, he said he'd take the pig to a veterinarian, and I said that was fine with me, I'd pay for any treatment." She looked up at Rafe. "But he never gave me a bill. I never noticed that one of the pigs was missing."
"Perhaps Eddy changed his mind."
"Must have."
As she reached down for the last of the piglets, Jenna hesitated. A slight frown drew parallel furrows between her eyes. She turned, counted the other four pigs and stared back into the enclosure.
"What's wrong?"
Her eyes widened as she looked toward him. "Rafe, this isn't my pig."
&n
bsp; Chapter Three
After twenty minutes on the Garden of Eden set with the eight-foot python draped heavily around her shoulders, Jenna objected, "Alex, it's late, and these lights are too hot for Serena. Are we about done?"
"Who is Serena?"
She held up the snake's delicately patterned body. The graceful almond-shaped head sinuously wove back and forth. Serena was capable of three expressions: tongue flick, mouth open, mouth closed. But it seemed to Jenna that the python was sneering at the director. The snake's apparent disdain was highly justified. This standing-around exercise seemed even more futile than most of the time-wasting nonsense on Alien Age.
Jenna explained, "I have to get her out of the lights. It irritates her skin, and prolonged exposure to heat can kill her."
"Come now, Jenna, your creature is little more than a handbag."
Serena flicked her tongue.
"One more moment," Alex said. "Please. I'm on the cusp of an inspiration."
"Time's up," announced a crisp male voice. "Get the snake off set."
Though Jenna was blinded by the glare of lights, she immediately recognized the officious tone and highhanded manner of Taylor Wannamaker. He was a lawyer who policed movie sets for the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and he took his job extremely seriously, even though he knew next to nothing about the creatures he was supposed to protect.
"Well, well, Jenna Denardo," he droned. "I understand you've been having some problems with your pigs."
Alex stepped forward. "All right, Jenna. We're done for the day." He whirled dramatically, confronting Taylor. "Who, may I ask, are you? And what makes you think you can give orders on my set?"
"I'm with the SPCA," Taylor said. "It's my responsibility to make sure none of these animals are mistreated."
"I daresay the snake is not overworked," Alex drawled in his British accent. "All it's done thus far is drape. That's hardly a workout."
"But the lights," Taylor said. "They're too hot."
"She's fine," Jenna assured him. Knowing that Taylor wasn't friendly with snakes, she thrust forward a thick coil of Serena. "Here, you can feel for yourself."
"No, thank you," he said tight-lipped. "It's lucky for both of you that I arrived before any damage was done."
"I resent that implication," Jenna said. "None of my animals have ever been injured on a set."
"I wasn't implying—"
"Yes, you were," she flared. Taylor had been assigned to one other film she had worked on. At that time, he wrongly cited her for improper care. "Now, what's this about my pigs?"
"Would you mind putting the snake down, Jenna?"
She was tempted to do as he asked, dropping Serena to the floor where she would glide among the electrical wires and terrify the crew. But one animal escapee per day was plenty.
"I'll return Serena to her cage," Jenna said. "When I come back, I want a full explanation of your pig comment."
In the separate room where her animals were kept, Jenna lifted the snake from her shoulders and placed her in the soft cotton bag, which she locked inside a wooden box punched with airholes. When she turned, Rafe was standing behind her.
He was so close, she couldn't avoid bumping into him. Off balance, she caught hold of his forearm, feeling solid muscle beneath skin. Unlike the previous time she had touched him, there were no dramatic shock waves. He felt warm and pleasantly furry. When she looked up into his blue eyes, his gaze regarded her with a gentleness she hadn't seen before. "You're not glowing anymore."
"No."
And yet his magnetism increased. She was drawn to him in a way that defied explanation. Even without the glow, Rafe was far from average or plain. "You're a very mysterious person."
"Not really."
"Who are you really? Where did you come from?"
"I've always been here."
"In L.A.?"
"The City of Angels."
The way he subtly emphasized the word "angels" gave her pause. Was that it? Was he an angel, an otherworldly being sent to watch over her?
Jenna shook the thought from her head. Though it would be lovely to believe in such a heavenly phenomenon, she had no cause to assume that her life was especially protected. She'd had her share of tragedy and sorrow. Besides, if Rafe were an angel, she wouldn't break out in a sweat whenever she saw him. Her stomach wouldn't clench in a knot. She wouldn't feel this ridiculous urge to giggle. She wouldn't feel so…sexual.
Jenna cleared her throat. "About our dinner tonight," she said. "I'm afraid we don't have time to do more than grab a burger. It's already after six, and I've got to take care of the animals before we leave for our eight o'clock appointment with Hugh Montclair."
"Fine," he said. "We'll grab a burger."
"Do you mind if I drive? I have a couple of errands on the way."
"Not at all."
Rafe felt the corners of his mouth stretching into a full grin of amusement. She'd have to drive because he didn't have a car. He hadn't thought that far ahead before he abandoned his angelic powers. Nor did he have a wallet with ready cash.
Though he should have been irritated by his lack of planning, he had a giddy sense of well-being when he was with Jenna. She seemed to brighten the world around her.
He should have been researching the possibility of a virus and investigating the murder. With a vengeance. After all, that was his true identity—Avenging Angel. Instead, he'd contented himself with gossip from the other stuntmen, learning very little. Several mentioned Sean Hill, the brother of Alex, who had been severely injured while Eddy Benson was in charge. If anyone had a motive to murder Eddy, it was Sean.
"See you, Rafe. I need to go back on the set and hammer Taylor Wannamaker."
"Who?"
"He's this obnoxious lawyer who works for the SPCA. The last time I saw Taylor, he filed an SPCA complaint because my goofy little Pekinese got filthy. Unsanitary conditions. That was what Taylor said."
"What really happened?" Rafe couldn't imagine Jenna mistreating any of her menagerie.
"It was in the script that my dog would jump into a mud puddle, and getting messy was far from cruelty for this particular pup who loves to turn her gorgeous, shiny coat into a mass of tangles."
Rafe fell into step beside her. "May I watch you hammer?"
"It won't be pretty."
But he thought it was adorable when Jenna charged up to the tall, well-dressed lawyer and snapped, "What's the problem with my pigs?"
"The first time I came to this set, I saw Eddy Benson with a piglet under his arm. He said he was taking it to the vet."
Jenna nodded. "Did you inspect the pig?"
Taylor looked down his long nose, the only odd feature in an otherwise patrician face. "I'm a lawyer, not a vet. I want to be sure you filed all the proper paperwork about a sick animal."
"As it turned out," Jenna said. "The pig didn't need medical attention. Eddy overreacted."
"He did that a lot, didn't he?"
Alex interrupted, "Shall we not speak ill of the dead?"
"I'm not surprised he had a heart attack." Without taking his eyes off Jenna, he added, "He died near your animals, didn't he? Why was he there? Looking for you, Ms. Denardo?"
Rafe didn't like the way this lawyer focused on her. Though their conversation seemed hostile, he sensed a masculine interest from Taylor. The lawyer liked Jenna. Maybe, he even wanted her.
The realization triggered a clenching in the pit of Rafe's belly. What was this sensation? Jealousy?
"Excuse me," he said, "are you investigating the death of Eddy Benson?"
"Why would I? It was a heart attack." He continued to look at Jenna. "Do you have reason to believe it was something else? We can't be too careful with animals these days. They carry so many diseases."
"Not my animals," Jenna said. "They're all in excellent health."
"Even the tiger?" Taylor paused. He was smirking, not unlike a kid who was about to tattle on his playmates. "I had a report, earlier toda
y, that there was a dangerous situation with a tiger escape. As you know, Jenna, the SPCA cannot condone this sort of irresponsible handling."
"Merely a rehearsal," Alex said smoothly. He linked arms with Taylor, drawing him away from the potential explosion from Jenna. "You're a good-looking young man. Ever worked in film?"
"No."
"I'm shocked, simply appalled. With your strong features, especially that nose, you'd be a perfect romantic lead."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. Do you act?" Behind his back, Alex signaled Jenna and Rafe to move away.
Under her breath, Jenna said, "That was close. If Taylor had been here when Darius escaped, it might have cost me my license."
"But nothing happened," Rafe said.
"And most of the SPCA people would understand. They're very reasonable and responsible. But Taylor is trying to make a reputation for himself in this town."
"In animal protection?" Rafe scoffed. That seemed an odd, ineffectual route to power. "He'd be better off as an entertainment lawyer. Or a divorce lawyer."
"Yes, but that would require intelligence," Jenna said. "Smarts are a quality that Taylor lacks. Let's go feed my animals and get out of here. It's been a long day."
As if she hadn't had enough headaches, a strange young man marched toward her. "Miss Denardo," he said.
"What now?"
His black hair was cut short as a combat Marine's, and he looked as if he was about to salute her as he said, "I was sent by Hugh Montclair to help you. My name is Danny Vincenzo."
"That's very nice, Danny. But I don't need any help."
"I beg to differ, ma'am. You have an appointment with my employer at twenty hundred hours and—"
"When?"
"Eight p.m., ma'am. And you need someone to keep an eye on the animals while you're gone."
She didn't intend to be gone for more than two hours, and there shouldn't be any problems in that brief time. Still, Jenna decided it was easier to accept Danny's assistance and discuss the situation with Hugh at their meeting. Besides, there were a number of unpleasant tasks to perform before the animals were bedded down for the night.
"Fine." She led the way back to the menagerie room where she handed Danny a shovel. "Dig in."