Dark Kiss Of The Reaper

Home > Paranormal > Dark Kiss Of The Reaper > Page 6
Dark Kiss Of The Reaper Page 6

by Kristen Painter


  He groaned softly. Maybe this was a bad idea. How did Chronos and Kol do it? But he knew how. Knew enough anyway, to know he was nothing like them. The women they mixed with meant nothing to them, where as he, in a small way, already cared for Sara.

  She made him feel alive. No one had ever done that.

  He stepped out onto the path. Ahead of him strolled another man who appeared to be about the age of Azrael’s human form. He carried a large bouquet of pink roses. Azrael looked at his own pitifully empty hands.

  He’d brought her nothing.

  Cursing himself for the oversight, he wondered what gift might be suitable. Flowers wouldn’t do this time. Carrying them around all night could become a chore for her, and by the end of the evening, they’d be wilted. Something smaller, more meaningful.

  He glanced around, but the people who were out paid him no attention. He ducked back into the bushes, took Reaper form, plucked a feather from each of his wings, then changed back to mortal form. Closing his hands palms together over the feathers, he pictured the perfect gift. He glanced around. No one seemed to notice the quick flash of light. Opening his hands, he nodded and smiled.

  Now, if only she liked it. He tucked the surprise into his pocket and headed for the statue.

  * * *

  Sara sat on the thick marble edge circling the fountain’s pool. A single star twinkled in the faded purple sky. She gazed up at the night, her nerves ebbing away with the peacefulness of it all.

  Tonight, she’d live in the moment. Tomorrow could worry about itself. She deserved an evening of fun.

  “Sara?”

  Reverie broken, she turned and looked into the face of the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Azrael. She knew him instantly, even though his hair was now jet-black, his eyes no longer sparkled chrome. Everything about him was sharper and more beautiful. As if a layer of dust had been wiped from his image.

  “Azrael,” she whispered his name, suddenly unsure of herself. Maybe he went by another name in this form. She took in his black suit, the crisp white shirt open at the neck. It might be illegal for a man to look that good.

  He smiled and extended his hand to help her up. She didn’t trust her legs to support her with him looking like this, but took his hand anyway.

  She rose and he pulled her close. “You look beautiful, my Sara.”

  Flutters of excitement and his achingly male scent stirred her blood. “Thanks. So do you. Look handsome, I mean.” She laughed softly, letting a few of her nerves escape.

  “I’m nervous,” she confessed. Why not be honest? After what he’d shared with her, there seemed no reason not to be.

  Concern shadowed his eyes. “Why? Did you think I wouldn’t show?”

  “No...no, I knew you’d be here.” She had to look away for a moment, catch her breath. She wasn’t used to so much male attention focused solely on her. Inhaling, she started over. “I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

  His smile sparked a calming heat in her belly. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I haven’t been on a date ever.”

  She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Ever? As in never ever?”

  He dipped his head. Was that embarrassment on his face? “No.”

  “Wow.” How could that be? She was the first woman he’d ever been out with. Was she the first woman he’d asked, or the first woman he’d said yes to? Either way, it was pretty cool to be Death’s first date. “Well, I have to admit that makes me feel a little better.” She grinned. “Actually, it makes me feel pretty special.”

  “You are special.” He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket. “I brought you something.”

  “You did? I didn’t bring you anything.”

  His brow crinkled. “Is it customary for the woman to bring her date a gift?”

  “Not really, I guess, but presents should be reciprocated.”

  He shook his head. “There is no need. All I want is time with you.” He held his hand up, dangling something sparkly in the evening light.

  She got a better look and sucked in a breath. To say this was completely unexpected would be an understatement.

  “I hope you like it. I wanted to give you something to remind you of me.”

  “I’m not about to forget you, trust me.” She lifted the necklace against her palm. A delicate pair of wings glittered at the end of a fine spun silver chain. They arched together in an abstract heart shape, the lines of every feather perfect. She almost expected the pendant to be soft to the touch. “It’s beautiful. Incredible.”

  A smile broke across his face. “You like it?”

  “I love it. I want to wear it right now.” She turned her back to him and lifted her hair, looking over her shoulder. “Will you help me?”

  He placed the necklace around her throat, his fingers brushing the back of her neck as he secured the clasp. Goosebumps raced down her arms with the pleasure of the brief touch.

  “There.”

  She turned back to face him, positioning the wings so they hung at the hollow of her throat. “How does it look?”

  His eyes never left hers. “Beautiful.”

  She understood he wasn’t talking about the necklace. She smiled and heat washed over her skin. “Thank you.” An entirely inadequate response. She’d rather kiss him, but making the first move might freak him out. She didn’t want his first date to be his last. Not with her anyway. If he never dated another woman, that was fine with her.

  He cleared his throat and smoothed a crease she couldn’t see in the lapel of his jacket. “I know that dating protocol requires certain...actions...be reserved for the end of the evening, but I don’t feel like waiting.”

  “What?” She studied the breadth of his hands while trying to figure out what he was talking about. What would those hands feel like on her—

  “Sara.”

  She looked up. “Yes?”

  “I’m trying to say...” His voice dropped an octave. “I want to kiss you. Now.”

  The breath left her body and her stomach dropped to the bottom of her feet. She froze to the spot, her tongue useless.

  Yes. Yes. Yes!

  Nod. She could nod.

  So she did.

  Chapter Seven

  “Does that mean you give me permission?” Hope lit his delicious face. If he got any better looking, she’d faint dead away.

  “Uh-huh,” she squeaked out.

  “Good,” he breathed. “Because I didn’t plan on asking twice.”

  One step forward and his hands threaded through her hair, spreading warmth to parts south. He tilted her face to meet his. Their bodies met in a hot, seamless press. She couldn’t breathe and didn’t care. Nothing mattered but the here and now. His hands, his body, his mouth.

  Her fingers splayed against his chest. Hot. Hard. Hers.

  He kissed her with a fierceness that melted any remaining thought. His hunger brought her to life. Made her want.

  Made her need.

  She slid her arms beneath his jacket, wrapping them around his steely torso. Desire washed through her, leaving her breathless and open. Nothing compared to this man, this kiss. Not any joy she’d ever known.

  And in that moment, she knew she would do anything to make this last.

  One hand stayed cradling her head, the other drifted to the small of her back and pressed her closer. His fingers kneaded her skin. Sparks skittered along her spine, igniting white-hot pinpoints of sensation all over her body. Another minute of this and she would combust.

  All control disappeared. She dug her fingers into his sides, urging, pleading...she wanted more. Whatever he had to give, she wanted. Her tongue found his, flicking across his teeth.

  With a moan low in his throat, he broke the kiss. His chest rose and fell with the effort to breathe. His eyes glinted raw yearning and something darker, something animal.

  “Sara...” His lips stayed parted as he drank in air.

  She couldn’t focus on anything but his mouth. The fullness of hi
s bottom lip. She wanted to sink her teeth into it.

  She blinked, exhaled, tried to remind herself they were in the middle of Freeman Square. “That was...” Another exhale. She couldn’t find the right word. What had he done to her?

  A new thought struck her. If this was his first date... “That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?”

  He licked his lips. “Yes. Was it that obvious?”

  “I think I’m in trouble.” Seriously. His first kiss? It had nearly made her lose her mind. “It wasn’t obvious at all.”

  “It was all right then?”

  “It was more than all right. It was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

  He smiled, shifting from one foot to the other. “Mine too.” He laughed. “That was not a smart thing to say, but it’s true.”

  She laughed along with him. The feeling was just coming back to her extremities. She glanced around, surprised they hadn’t drawn a crowd of gawkers. “I feel a little dumb right now myself.”

  He slipped his hand into hers. The warmth helped her reconnect to reality. They had a whole night ahead of them.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Yes.” For him. “What did you have in mind?”

  He dropped her hand and offered the crook of his arm. She laced her arm through his, snuggling next to him.

  “You’ll see,” he said with a wink, leading her toward the town center.

  They strolled in companionable silence until he brought them to a stop in front of Pétrus, a fashionable French restaurant with a reputation for romance. More proposals happened at Pétrus than any other restaurant in town. She ought to know. Ray had proposed here.

  Azrael reached for the door, smiling and obviously pleased with his choice. His smile faded when he looked at her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She faked a smile in return.

  “You’re lying.” His jaw tightened and he let the door swing shut. “Please tell me what’s bothering you, Sara.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

  Gently, he rested his hands on her shoulders. “This is our evening. If you don’t like this restaurant, we can go somewhere else.”

  She was being silly, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to make any memories with Azrael in a place that was part of her old life. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” His jaw relaxed. “Is the food no good here?”

  Laughing, she shook her head. “It’s very good...I just have memories here...with someone else...”

  “Oh.” He turned away but not before she saw the stricken look on his face.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his forearm.

  He stopped, stared at the sidewalk.

  “Let me explain.”

  “No need. I understand.” Hard lines creased his forehead.

  “I don’t think you do—”

  His gaze burned into her. “Why did you kiss me if you’re involved with someone else?”

  That got them a few turned heads and a raised eyebrow from the passersby.

  She lowered her voice and stepped closer. “I’m not involved with anyone else.” She sighed. “My ex-husband proposed to me here. I just didn’t want to be with you in a place that had bad memories for me. It was silly, I know. We can eat here, really. I’ll be fine.”

  He lifted her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to them. “My apologies for assuming otherwise. I am the fool. Forgive me?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Wait, no.”

  His eyes widened. “No?”

  “Not unless you kiss me again.” The words were barely audible but she got them out. She wanted another kiss and she didn’t care who saw it.

  His mouth found hers before another thought entered her head. This time, he kissed her more deliberately, slower, as though he mapped every nuance of her mouth, trying to sear it into his mind.

  She moaned softly. His tongue swept hers. The taste of him swirled through her, a sweet, heady smoke.

  A wolf whistle separated them in laughter.

  “Now am I forgiven?” His eyes sparkled like he hoped she said no again.

  “For now.” She grinned and drew her finger down his chest. Forget dinner, she wanted dessert.

  “I am willing to try again.”

  “Duly noted and much appreciated.” Heaven help her, but she could get used to this.

  She moved toward the restaurant’s door. Azrael could provide her with new memories.

  He tugged her back to his side. “I know a better place.”

  “Are you sure? It’s okay, really.”

  “You deserve better than okay. Come.” He tipped his head, drawing her down the street.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere else.”

  She laughed. “I figured that.”

  He ushered her onto a side street, then into an alley. He whistled low and long. Pallidus walked toward them from a drift of fog.

  “I’m guessing wherever we’re going, it’s not local.”

  Azrael scrubbed Pallidus’ neck. “No, it’s not, but it will be worth the trip.”

  “I’m not really dressed for horseback.”

  “I’ll hold you in my lap.”

  Who could say no to that? “Okay.”

  A curl of mist wound up from his feet, covering him as it rose. When it cleared, he was the winged Reaper she’d first met once again. “I can’t travel in my human form. I’ll change back when we arrive.”

  “Good. I like you in a suit.”

  He mounted Pallidus, then reached for her. He set her in his lap, her legs across his, her bottom firmly planted between his thighs.

  She couldn’t resist brushing her fingers through his hair before clasping her hands around his neck. The move made her flush. “Soft,” she murmured.

  He bent to kiss her again, and when she opened her eyes clouds surrounded them.

  “Where are we going?” Not that she cared. Anywhere with him would be fine with her.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” He tightened his arm around her waist. A myriad of emotions showed in his mesmerizing gaze.

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked. She wanted to know this man, wanted to understand him.

  A slight smile appeared and disappeared. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “At the beginning?”

  He smiled again, shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

  She shrugged and moved her hands around his waist so she could lean against his chest. “You’ll find a place to start when you’re ready.”

  “I like you, Sara Donovan.”

  A pleased smile teased her lips up. She closed her eyes and turned her face into the crook of his neck, brushing her lips across his warm skin.

  “I like you, too, Azrael...whatever your last name is.”

  “Grim,” he answered. “Azrael Grim.”

  “Appropriate,” she whispered against his skin. He shivered and her pleasure at his response filled her with a sense of empowerment never felt before.

  Azrael might be the Angel of Death, but he’d made her fall in love with life all over again.

  * * *

  “We’re almost there,” Azrael whispered to the lovely creature curled on his lap. He’d already had Pallidus circle the city twice to keep her snuggled against him a little longer. He craved her warmth and perfume like they were drugs.

  She stretched, arching against him. He kissed her temple.

  Something terrible and wonderful had happened between them already this night. The thought of being without her made him ache and the evening had just begun.

  She filled the long empty parts of him. Made his heart beat with purpose. Gave his breath reason. He wanted her, not just in the way a man wanted a woman, but in the way of a being who’d never before understood the possibilities of a future no longer alone.

  Companion.

  The word kept repeating in his brain. Was such a thing even possible? He couldn’
t think about the chance it wasn’t.

  “Wherever we are, it looks beautiful.” She leaned forward, watching the cloud cover fray beneath them. “So many lights...it looks like a fairy land.”

  Pallidus went lower still. She clapped a hand over her mouth, then pointed. “Is that...it is! The Eiffel Tower!” She turned to him, eyes filled with amazement. “We’re in Paris?”

  “Since Pétrus was out, I thought we’d go right to the source.” Pleasing her could easily become his life’s work, so long as she always looked at him that way.

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never been out of the state.” Her fingers pressed to her mouth, she kept her gaze on the rising city.

  “So beautiful,” she whispered again. Her hand crept down to find his. She wove their finger together, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what to say.” She looked over her shoulder, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

  Pallidus set down in a vacant back street and they dismounted. Another curl of fog and Azrael retook his human form.

  “Shall we?” He offered her his arm and together they wandered the streets of Paris until Sara’s growling stomach stopped them at a small café.

  They ate at a sidewalk table, sitting side by side, laughing, talking and drinking wine. Sara’s fascination with the Parisians walking by kept him smiling. Seeing things through her eyes made him realize how good life was.

  “Look at her.” She tapped his arm. “Her dog’s collar matches her purse. They certainly have a sense of style, don’t they?”

  He nodded, but truthfully, he had a hard time seeing anyone but her. She was incredible. A bright shining star to his perpetual twilight. He kissed her fingers, knowing it would make her smile.

  “You’re a very sweet man.” She dipped her head. A curtain of chestnut silk swung around her shoulders, hiding her hazel eyes. If he painted, she would be the only subject he ever needed.

  “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

  She blushed, shaking her head. “You’re just flattering me. I’m okay, but not beautiful.”

  “No. Flattery implies falsehoods and I would never lie to you.” He caught her gaze and held it, trying to make her see the truth in his eyes. “You are beautiful, Sara.”

 

‹ Prev