by Day Leclaire
“Which is why you tolerate her matchmaking.”
“Yes. It’s a small inconvenience and it helps ease her conscience.”
“And poor Joel. He must be feeling guilty, too.”
“I’ve talked to him about it. Explained that I don’t hold him responsible. I think he believes me. At least, he hasn’t said otherwise.” He glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow in question. “Now do you understand why I’m not interested in marrying?”
“Not really. Granted, you’ve had one bad experience, but—”
“You don’t get it, do you?” He surged to his feet, towering over her, his anger practically blistering the air. “One of these days I’m going to find Emily. And when I do, I’ll know whether or not she had my baby. If she did, I plan on marrying her. I want my child, and I’ll move heaven and earth to get him and keep him in my life. So unless you can produce my ex-fiancée and allow me to settle the issue of my paternity once and for all, I’m off the market.”
And with that, he walked away.
“Angie?”
Reed pushed open the door between his bedroom and the sitting area, intent on offering the apology he’d resisted making all day. Unfortunately, she wasn’t there. But he could hear her. She hummed softly, the unfamiliar tune strangely beguiling.
He followed the sound, pausing at the threshold of her bathroom. The door stood slightly ajar and he realized an instant too late that he never should have intruded this far. Though now that he had, no power on earth could stop him from looking.
Angie must have just gotten out of the shower. Steam filled the air, wheeling in lazy circles around the room. Thin tendrils of mist crept toward the open doorway, reaching for him like so many ghostly fingers. But they dissipated at the first taste of cooler air, falling short of their goal.
To his relief, Angie hadn’t seen him. She stood in profile, one elegant foot resting on the edge of the tub as she bent at the waist, drying her leg. Her hair was a mass of pale ringlets, tumbling down her back and across her shoulder. Moisture sparkled on her flawless skin, as though someone had dusted her with gold glitter.
She bent lower and her breasts swayed ever so slightly, drawing his attention. They were full and round, the color of rich cream, with tightly furled rose buds tipping the crests. He could still remember the comfortable weight of them snug within his palms, while the honeyed taste filled his mouth. His gaze drifted lower. Her waist nipped in above neatly curved hips and her legs were long and toned and every bit as shapely as he’d anticipated.
The air current swirled around her, kissing her body in a loving caress. It circled her ankles and calves, dancing in delight between her thighs, before sweeping over her tightly muscled buttocks and along the arch in her back. The mist parted there, outlining something soft and downy that clung from her shoulders to the base of her spine. A gauzy silhouette formed in the shape of alabaster feathers—feathers aflutter, gently stirring the air. He shook his head in disbelief, fighting to deny what couldn’t be denied.
Angie Makepeace had wings.
He must have made some sound because her chin jerked up and her damp towel slipped from nerveless fingers to the pink tile floor. Slowly she turned toward the door and he caught a glimpse of a thin band of gold shimmering over her head. For a long moment, neither of them moved. She stood before him in all her glory, without apology or artifice.
“You’re an angel,” he said at last.
“I told you I was.”
“I don’t want an angel in my life.” The words slipped out of their own volition, unintentionally cruel, though starkly honesty.
A deep sadness welled into her heavenly blue eyes.
“I know.”
No, he didn’t want an angel, he realized. He wanted Angie. He wanted her with every fibre of his being. He wanted her in his bed and in his life and by his side.
Heaven had given him an angel, but he wanted the woman.
CHAPTER NINE
“I THOUGHT you wanted to go for a drive.” Angie said uneasily, watching as a familiar-looking farmhouse flashed by the car window. “Isn’t this the way to the lake?”
“I decided to head out there again.”
“But...why?”
“Let’s just say we have some unfinished business to take care of.”
“Unfinished business?” she repeated nervously. “At the lake?”
“Right.” He spared her a quick glance, his serious expression increasing her apprehension. “We need to talk.”
Her mouth went dry—always a bad sign. “I don’t understand. What do we have to talk about?”
“Any number of topics, wouldn’t you say?”
She fell into a concerned silence. Did he intend to continue their discussion about finding him a wife? Or did he have more to tell her about Emily? Somehow she doubted that was it. They could have held either of those conversations at the hotel. Perhaps it was her angel status he hoped to address. That seemed the most likely of all. But... Why at the lake?
He parked the car in the deserted lot and snagged the blanket from the back seat again. Bypassing the spot beneath the tree they’d occupied the day before, he cut across the volleyball field and continued straight on to the empty shoreline. Inches from the water’s edge, he kicked off his shoes and spread the blanket across the sand.
“Come on, Angie. I thought we could sit here for a while and talk.”
She stood at the border between grass and sand, unwilling to follow him to such a treacherous location. A pollen-drunk bumblebee wobbled by. At another time, in another place, she’d have taken a moment to savor the image, to store it away for a dark day when memories were all she had. Too bad anxiety held even that possible joy at bay. “Why can’t we have our talk over here?”
He trudged back through the sand to her side. He didn’t touch her, simply held her with a calm, reassuring gaze. “Will you trust me?”
Could she? Angie closed her eyes, hating the position he’d put her in. She did trust him. Totally. But her fear of the water refused to be so easily set aside. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Trust me, Angie,” he said again. “Take my hand. I’ll keep you safe.”
Unable to refuse, she slipped her hand in his and walked with him toward the water, trembling so badly her legs threatened to buckle. leaching the blanket, she collapsed to her knees, nausea riding her hard. He came down beside her and pulled her close. She practically crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.
“I’m scared,” she confessed in a muffled voice.
“I know you are.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because angels shouldn’t be afraid.”
She lifted her chin slightly. “You really do believe I’m an angel?”
Ever so gently he feathered his hand from the crown of her head to the base of her spine as though he might feel what he could no longer see. “After last night, it would be a little difficult to deny.”
“Are you shocked?”
“Yes.”
“Because you don’t believe in angels?”
“As far as I’m aware, they’re not an everyday occurrence. At least, I’ve never run into one before.”
“That you know of. There are more of us than you might think.”
“Since you’re the expert, I’ll have to take your word for it.” His hand tangled in her hair as he tucked her into the curve of his shoulder. “Now tell me why heaven thinks I should have a wife.”
“They don’t always offer an explanation,” she admitted, relaxing against him. “I suspect it’s because you need to set a good example for Joel. He follows your lead, copies everything you do. Perhaps heaven feels he should see true love work in your life, in order to find it himself someday.”
Reed bowed his head, absorbing her comments as if they were a blow. “I’m sorry, Angie,” he finally said. “I can’t help you succeed at your mission.”
“Because of Emil
y?”
“Yes.”
She understood. She wished she didn’t, but she did. “You plan to marry her, if you find her.” It wasn’t a question.
“If she has my child, yes.”
“Doesn’t she have some say in this?” Angie asked carefully.
His hand fisted. “It’s tearing me apart, wondering whether I have a child out there somewhere. Not a day goes by that I don’t imagine what he’d look like, sound like, act like. I worry about his health, worry that he might be lost or in trouble. And when I think about him growing up, never knowing his father—” He broke off and his throat worked for a minute before he recovered his composure. “Isn’t that good enough for heaven? Can’t I find love through my child? Does it matter whether or not I love his mother?”
He’d confirmed the question she hadn’t dared ask. “Then you don’t love Emily?”
“I did love her. Once. At least I thought so.” He stared across the water, despair in his gaze. “Perhaps I can again.”
“You’ll marry her, regardless, won’t you?”
His mouth tightened. “yet.”
“Let me tell you something my uncle used to say. Maybe it’ll help.” She shot him a reprimanding look. “And no, it wasn’t that sort of uncle. He was my mother’s brother. He died when I was very young. But I still remember what he once told me.”
“Life advice?”
“Advice on choosing a path through life, yes. He said that when you’re traveling along the right path, mountains turn into molehills and are easily overcome. But when you’re heading in the wrong direction, molehills become mountains and are impossible to scale.”
“You think Emily is my mountain?”
“You’ve been searching for over two years without success. Perhaps you weren’t meant to find her. Perhaps it’s time to open yourself to other possibilities.”
“Like love?”
He said it so caustically, she winced. “You can’t fool me, Reed. I know the sort of person you are. I see the love you have for Joel and your mother—”
“Of course I love them. They’re family.”
“And me?” She stirred in his arms, tracing the protective width of his shoulders with a tender hand. “You’re holding me with such warmth, with such concern. Why?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Because I’m afraid of the water.”
“Yes.”
“But don’t you understand? That’s my point. You care enough to try and help. You brought me here because you hoped to ease my fears, didn’t you?”
“I told you. Angels shouldn’t have fears. After you—” He clenched his teeth, a fierce denial forming in his eyes.
So she said the words for him. “After I died... Go on.”
“Heaven should have taken the terror from you.” His voice took on a raspy edge. “They should have taken those memories away, too.”
“And since heaven didn’t, you intend to?” She gazed up at him, cupping the hard length of his jaw. “Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you have a huge capacity for love. And yet, you shut yourself off from it.”
“I’ve told you,” he insisted stubbornly. “I don’t need love, just my kid.”
“Let me tell you something, Reed. I spent a lifetime on the outside looking in, hoping to find what you could receive with one simple wish. I never found it and now I never will. It’s too late for me, but you still have a chance. All you have to do is say the words and it’s yours. Have you any idea what I’d give for that opportunity?”
“I can’t, Angie. I can’t do it.” He caught her shoulders. “If you want to help, tell me where Emily is.”
“I don’t know where she is. Reed, she may not even have been pregnant.”
“What if she was?”
“What if she gave the baby up for adoption?”
“No! I refuse to accept that.”
“You might have to.”
“This wish you promised me... Can I use it to find Emily?”
She was forced to tell the truth. “Yes.”
“And what happens if I make that my wish?”
“I suspect that your detectives will miraculously locate her.”
“And if she has my baby? If I marry her?”
She didn’t pull her punches. “If you marry without love, my mission fails.”
That stopped him. “What happens to angels who fail their missions?”
Angie shrugged. “It depends. Sometimes they send in another angel, one who won’t fail. Like at Sarduoci’s or with Ralph at the Majesty.” Or sometimes—when an angel had tarnished her halo beyond repair—she found herself on the wrong side of the Pearly Gates. Angie didn’t trouble Reed with those details, though. How could she put such a burden on his shoulders?
“Another angel won’t work in my case.” It wasn’t a question. “Chuck or Dotty won’t be able to find me love, either. Will they?”
“Probably not. At least, not if you marry Emily.”
She met his gaze, using every ounce of strength she possessed to bury her apprehension. Goodenkind had sent Reed a gift and, regardless of the personal consquences, she’d give it to him. She’d give him his request freely and with an open heart.
Because she loved him.
Her eyes widened in sheer wonder. Oh, God. She loved him!
How had that happened? When had it happened? It defied understanding. At least, her understanding. She smiled, smiled with utter joy as she gave mute thanks—smiled as she lifted her face to the warmth of the sun, tears of elation welling in her eyes. She’d lived a life barren of love. Empty and alone, dread and cynicism her constant companions. But today she’d been given the ultimate gift. For the first time in her entire existence, she knew a love that radiated to every portion of her body and soul. Never again would she stand on the outside looking in. Reed was part of her now. She wasn’t alone.
“Thank you, Good,” she whispered silently. “Thank you for that much.” Even if she was put out of heaven, she’d have her love for Reed to carry with her, to help her through the dark times ahead. It gave her the strength she needed to ask the question she so dreaded. “Is that your wish, Reed? Is finding Emily your heart’s desire?”
“I want to think about it a little longer before I decide.”
Angie nodded, more relieved than she could say. Perhaps she’d have a chance to change his mind. “So what now?”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling as it curled possessively around his finger. “Now we address your problem.”
“That’s not necessary,” she hastened to reply. “It’s just one tiny fear.”
“You’ve worked hard to grant my wish. I’d like to give you something in exchange.”
Her mouth pulled to one side. “I’d be happier if it were something other than a swimming lesson. Besides, we’re not dressed for this.” It was a halfhearted argument, at best. And he knew it.
“We’re wearing shorts. It won’t matter if they get wet. What does matter is to try and free you from your phobia.”
“Reed, I really appreciate what—”
“Trust me,” he interrupted. “Can you do that much? I promise that if it doesn’t work, I’ll stop.”
It was such a small request, although one that filled her with dread. Slowly she nodded, fighting the panic that formed in the pit of her stomach. A bitter coldness seeped into her pores, creeping to her very bones. “Okay. But, please hurry and get it over with.”
Two short steps brought them to the water’s edge. Reed turned her so that she faced away from the lake, then eased her downward. Pulling her between his legs, he molded her back against his chest. The water was only inches deep here, lapping about their legs. Still, it terrified her.
“I won’t bother to tell you to relax—”
“Good. Because I can’t.”
“But I do need you to close your eyes.” As soon as she had, he asked, “Do you know what I thought the very first time I saw you?”
“Exactly. And the next minute I wondered how much trouble I could get in with you.” He filled his hands with water and dribbled it along her arms. She shivered at the sensation—first in fright, and then in pleasure. “How’s that?”
“Not bad,” she admitted in surprise.
“Good. Now, just relax. I’m going a little deeper. No, don’t stiffen up. Feel the water lift you? Carry you?”
Her eyes shot open. “Don’t let go.” She hated how panicked she sounded.
Instantly, his arms tightened around her. “I’ll never let you go,” he reassured. His legs tangled with hers, his hair-roughened calves tickling her smooth skin. “So, were you always trouble, even before you became an angel?”
“Every single day of my life,” she confessed.
The water was to her waist now, seeping up her red blouse to lap beneath her breasts. The lake seemed so innocuous, the color a clear greenish-blue, the sun glit tering in a carefree, golden dance across the wind-ruffled surface. Further down the shoreline she could see willows bending over the water, as though peeking at their reflection in the still depths. Long streaming switches of yellow-green leaves dangled above the water like braids of hair, whispering secrets to the curious breeze.
Reed eased Angie onto her belly, his hard body providing her with a secure raft. “And were you always so good with people?”
She clung to his shoulders, kicking with him, feeling the power of his thighs moving in tempo with hers. “I’m not good with people,” she denied.
“Sure you are. Haven’t you noticed? You attract them.” He spread her hair in a carpet of curls across the water. “At first, I think it’s your appearance that appeals to them. Men want you and women want to be like you. But then they stop looking at the surface and they see your spirit. It’s like a bright golden flame that draws people to you.”
“It’s an angel thing. Like the purse.”
He chuckled in genuine amusement. “No, sweetheart. It’s you. It’s the kindness in your eyes, the warmth of your smile, the gentleness of your touch and the zest for life that they hear in your voice.”