All traces of happiness left her face. “It’s nice that you think that, but I don’t feel that way.” She twisted her fingers out of his grasp and wrapped her arms around her body. “I’ve been in this skin for thirty-two years. I know I’m not beautiful.”
He moved closer and cradled her face in his hands. “But you are. And anyone who’s made you think otherwise is a fool.” He brushed his mouth across hers. “I would be happy to help you forget them.”
She laughed lightly and covered his hands with hers. “They’ve already begun to fade.” She kissed him back, her berry-flavored tongue teasing his. She sighed, a wonderful sound of soul-deep pleasure.
“Maybe we should think about getting back.” Otherwise, he was going to take her to the nearest hotel and spend the rest of the night giving her reasons to make that sound again. That was as long as he could keep the Darkness under control. She called to that part of him with an almost undeniable fierceness.
“Already?” She looked at her watch. “I guess you’re right. The Eiffel Tower’s probably been closed for hours.”
“We saw it on our way here.”
“I know, but I’d love to stand up there and look out over the city. Seems like a very romantic thing to do.” She shrugged. “Shame to come all this way and not, you know?”
“I agree.” He stood and extended his hand. “Let’s go. I think it’s open into the evening hours.”
She took his hand and stood, then looked at the remains of their meal. “Don’t we need to pay for this?”
He dug in his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills.
“Wow, that’s a lot of money. But it’s all American—” she fell silent as the dollars changed to euros in his hand. “How did you do that?”
He smiled and tossed enough to cover the bill on the table. “I have many talents.”
And when the right opportunity presented itself, he was going to show her.
Repeatedly.
Chapter Eight
“I knew the view from here would be amazing. Look at this place...it’s like a fairy tale.” Sara leaned back against Azrael. His arms wrapped her tight, filling her with the sensation that the sea of twinkling lights below them was somehow a manifestation of her happiness.
Standing on the top observation deck of the Eiffel Tour was something she’d never thought she’d get to do. The fact that it had been closed for half an hour made no difference to Azrael. In his Reaper form, he’d simply held her close and moments later, here they stood.
He was amazing in every aspect. The way he treated her, the way he looked at her. Told her she was beautiful. She could get used to this man. Who was she kidding? She was already falling for him.
And he was fluent in French. She had a feeling he could speak any language necessary, but he oozed sexy when he spoke French.
“Say something in French again,” she whispered, half-embarrassed to ask.
“What would you like me to say?”
“I don’t care if you read the phone book, I just like the way it sounds.”
He laughed softly and drew her closer. He was silent for a moment before he spoke.
“Comment t'exprimer tout ce que je ressens? Ton image hante mes nuits. Je suis affamé pour vous.”
“Mmmm. That sounds nice. What does it mean?”
“You didn’t say I had to translate.”
“C’mon, I want to know.”
“It means...the night is beautiful and so are you.”
“I thought the word for beautiful was belle?” She tipped her head to look at him. “Didn’t you tell me at dinner that you’d never lie to me?”
“I wasn’t lying. It was more like keeping a secret.”
She twisted in his arms so she could see him face to face. “What did you say?”
“Some things I probably shouldn’t have.”
“Now I really want to know.” She waggled her brows. “Were you talking dirty to me?”
“Would that work?”
Grinning, she cuffed his shoulder. “You’re wicked.”
“It’s good that you’ve figured that out.”
“It is? Why?”
His hands slipped from her waist to grasp her hips in a move that was pure animal possession. “Because I’m full of wicked thoughts. About you.”
A shiver rolled down her spine. “You are?”
“Yes.” His eyes gleamed bright, predatory. Wanton.
Her pulse sped up. “I think you’re the man my mother warned me about.”
“Really. Did she tell you I might do this?” His hands went lower. He cupped her buttocks, crushing her against him. “Or this?” His teeth nipped her neck, followed by his tongue. He nibbled a path to her ear, hot breath tormenting her, making her writhe.
“Never mentioned it...” she murmured.
“You’ve lit a fire in me, Sara. I need you. I can’t imagine being without you, even after knowing you for so short a time.” He breathed deeply. “I want you in my life, but I also know it isn’t fair for you.”
He released her. Cool air rushed in between them.
“What isn’t fair?” She wanted him. Regardless.
“I’m not a normal man, Sara. I don’t live in your world. I can’t be a part of your life like an ordinary mortal. This...” He gestured to himself. “This isn’t who I am. And if I don’t take this form, no one else can see me. It’s no way for you to live.”
“So you take your human form more often.”
Turning half away, he dragged his hand through his hair, tousling the black waves. “You deserve more. Someone who can be there for you all the time.”
“I’d be happy with whatever time you could give me.” After the passion he’d just shown her, was he trying to say this was goodbye? She clutched the pendant he’d given her. “I don’t want to stop seeing you.”
He stared out into the Parisian night as if looking for answers.
“Azrael.”
He closed his eyes, letting his chin drop to his chest. “It’s better we part now, before this becomes something we both regret.”
The Angel of Death had apparently lost his mind. She decided to give him a piece of hers. She stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “No.”
He slanted his eyes at her. The edge of chrome was there for a second, then gone. “No?”
She held onto him more tightly. “I refuse.”
He blinked and lifted his head. “You refuse.” His jaw shifted to one side, his expression pensive. “I’m a Reaper. No one talks to me like that.”
She let go of him and lifted her chin. “Well, maybe it’s about time.”
Straightening to his full height, he faced her, a new gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think you should have said that.”
She stepped back. “W-why?”
“Because.” He advanced so quickly she didn’t see him move. “Now I want you more than ever.”
He reached for her, then dropped his hands, fisting them at his sides. His face contorted...with pain, anger, lust...she couldn’t tell. A low growl emanated from him. He fought something, that much she understood.
“This can’t be, Sara. No matter how brave you think you are...you have no idea what I truly am.”
She held her ground. “Yes, I do. You collect men’s souls. I’ve seen it. Been with you while you did it. I’m not afraid.”
A humorless laugh echoed off the steel platform. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw what hides in me.”
Swallowing down her fear, she stood tall. She’d called his bluff once. She could do it again. “Then show me.”
He shook his head, hands still fisted, eyes heavy-lidded. His mouth twisted. “You don’t know what you ask.”
“Show me and let me decide for myself.”
Again, he shook his head. “No. It’s just one more reason we shouldn’t see each other anymore. You bring out the Darkness in me.” He retreated, knowing she wouldn’t understand, needing to protect her. “The more I’m with you, the more I want you.”
Another step back. “The more afraid I am I won’t be able to contain it.”
“I want you, too, Azrael.” Bold words, but she meant them.
He raised his hand as if he could block her words. “Don’t say that. I need to regain control. Already I feel it rise within—”
“Kiss me, Azrael.” She walked toward him.
“Stop,” he nearly begged. He backed into a stanchion and wheeled around like someone had touched him. When he faced her again, his irises were almost completely engulfed in blue flame.
A calmness she’d never felt before washed through her, erasing her fear. He wouldn’t hurt her. She believed that. More than anything, she wanted to comfort him, to show him he was worth caring about, no matter how awful he thought he was.
In the twinkling darkness, she came to him and took his face in her hands. His skin burned.
“Don’t fear this,” she whispered, leaning toward him.
She held nothing back, pouring every desire she’d had for him into the crush of her mouth. With her lips on his, she played out the images in her head. Their bodies entwined, slick with sweat. His possession of her. Her willful submission. With her tongue, she revealed her desire. Her want. Her need.
He kissed her back, his moans growing louder, deeper. His hands clutched at her until he drew her against him so tightly her head spun.
Fabric tore.
His skin cooled.
He shoved her away, covering his face with his arm as he retreated further beneath the structure. “Don’t come any closer. I can’t...stop it...”
She didn’t know which he was now, human or Reaper. Then it became clearer.
Wings sprouted from his back, but they weren’t the wings she’d seen before. Spines tipped the joints and drapes of shadow replaced the feathers.
More tearing. Mist expanded around him, blurring her vision. Then it split down the middle, spiraling away in thick whorls.
He stepped through, shedding his human form like a discarded chrysalis. Her calm leaked away.
Gone was the man she knew. In his place stood a wraith of shadows and fog. His robe lost shape past the shoulders, dissolving into shards of mist and twilight. Beneath the hood two fiery blue eyes bored into her from a fathomless blackness.
“Azrael?” In this state, did he still know who she was? She felt behind her for the railing, moving back a step.
He glided toward her, one tendril of mist lifting, reaching...
She exhaled a shuddering breath, racking her brain for something to say or do. He came closer. Another tendril drifted in her direction.
With nothing to lose, she let go of the railing and stepped toward him.
His forward movement slowed.
“I’m not afraid you,” she lied, searching for bravado she wasn’t sure she had.
“So what if you have this other side.” She shrugged to keep from shivering. “You should see me first thing in the morning. It’s not pretty, believe me.”
The reaching strands of fog dissolved.
New resolve empowered her. “It doesn’t change the way I feel about Azrael the man and Azrael the Reaper, either. I like those aspects of you very much.”
Misty threads twisted together. A faint outline of his robe emerged from the shadows.
She edged closer. “If this is your attempt to scare me away because you think I should be with a mortal man, it’s not going to work.” She rolled her eyes. “Been there, done that, have the divorce papers to prove it.”
Translucent feathers covered his wings, solidifying as they spread.
She crossed her arms and tilted her head trying to look nonchalant, even though her heart’s thumping filled her ears. “And as far as I’m concerned, you’d better snap out of it because you still owe me dessert.”
The cobalt glow in his eyes dimmed and the remaining mist disappeared like a vacuum had sucked it up. Azrael, in Reaper form, stood before her.
He pushed the hood of his robe back. The only blue in his eyes was the familiar edge around his irises. He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the ground, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
At last, he lifted his head and looked at her.
“You amaze me, Sara Donovan. How is it that you are braver than my brothers who back down at only a hint of what you saw?” He shook his head.
“I get like that when I haven’t had chocolate.”
A welcome smile shattered his solemn expression. “You can have all the chocolate you want.” He laughed softly. “You can have anything it is in my power to give you.”
She smiled back. “Are you going to provide me with a list, or should I just start guessing?”
He spanned the space between them in one step, sending a rush of heat through her. “It would take ages to tell you everything.”
“Then there better be a second date,” she whispered as his arms went around her.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and feathered tiny kisses over the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. “That’s definitely within my power.”
She leaned against him, relieved to have him back. “I’m not letting you off the hook about the chocolate, you know.”
Nibbling his way toward the crook of her elbow, he paused to answer. “I didn’t expect you would.”
A breathless sigh escaped her lips as his kisses moved to just below her ear. “That’s kind of...my...oh...weak spot.”
“Then I shouldn’t stop.” He put an inch of space between them. “But I have to tell you how much your willingness to sacrifice yourself means to me.”
“My willingness to what?” The fog of pleasure lifted.
“Your willingness to sacrifice your life. When you stood up to me in my visceral form.”
“Sacrifice my life?” She swallowed.
He looked at her with sudden understanding. “You didn’t know, did you?”
She shifted out of his arms a little. “What are you talking about?”
His face went gray. “If you had touched me...or I had touched you...” He shook his head, going silent.
“What? What?” Maybe she didn’t want to know.
“You would have become a Shade.”
“A shade of what?”
“No, a Shade. A soulless, bodiless being.”
“In other words, I’d be dead.” Dying wasn’t good. Not at all. Of course, since Azrael was a Reaper, she’d probably still get to be with him. And his existence didn’t seem so bad.
“Yes, but—”
“We could spend more time together.” The thought brighten the near death experience greatly.
“Not in the way you think.” He stroked her cheek. “Shades have no contact, no communication, no comfort. They wander the Underworld, lost and alone. At best, you’d be able to see me. Maybe.”
He sighed. “And one Shade is pretty much indistinguishable from the next. I’d have no way of knowing which one you were.”
She shivered, and he pulled her close. “That’s not going to happen, so don’t even think of it.” He touched his mouth to hers and she took some comfort in the brief kiss.
“Now,” he said, “It’s time to take you home.”
* * *
Azrael watched Sara drive away, her kiss still warm on his lips. Amazing. A mortal woman had seen him in his visceral form and stood her ground. Even if she hadn’t fully understood the consequences, it was impressive.
The ache in his heart was unfamiliar, but he recognized it anyway. Love. In one evening, he’d fallen for her completely. How could he not?
She knew who he was—what he was, and didn’t shy away. She’d been at his side while he’d reaped souls and hadn’t run. She was beautiful on the outside, yes, but the beauty within her was what drew him. He wanted her so badly he hurt.
Whatever it took, he would find a way to make her fall in love with him too.
He turned and walked into the alley where Pallidus waited, knowing full well the ridiculousness of his thoughts. No one could make a mortal do anything. They
were creatures of free will.
Sara was not a woman who could be coerced. This evening had proven that.
A narrow grin lifted his mouth as he retook his Reaper form and mounted Pallidus for the journey home. She’d faced down his visceral form and given it no fear to feed on. She’d control the Darkness better than he’d ever been able to.
He sighed as Pallidus took to the skies. How would she react if he told her how he really felt? And what was the point? He couldn’t offer her the kind of life a mortal woman expected.
Could he live half his time in the mortal world and half his time in his own and still fulfill his obligations as Reaper? He would have to find a way. No other option suited the situation. At least until...he shook his head. He would wait for her to cross over if that’s what it took to be with her.
What if he told her the truth of his feelings and she wanted to join him sooner? He shuddered to think what she might do, as fierce as she was. When the time came, he would find a way to reap her soul himself, but not until her time came.
So for now, he would find a way to make this work. He would love her. He just wouldn’t tell her.
Chapter Nine
The headache that woke Sara gave pain a new definition. She stumbled across the room to yank her shades down and block the light scraping her eyes like sandpaper.
The late night and red wine had cranked the vise at her temples tighter than ever. She downed some painkillers without water, then crawled back under the covers and tugged them over her to find total darkness. No run today. Maybe no shift at Grounded, either.
She curled up in a fetal position and tried to focus on more pleasant thoughts. Like Azrael’s kiss. His hands. Dinner in Paris.
Headache or not, she smiled. How could she not? Last night had been unbelievable, even with the fact that she’d almost unknowingly done herself in.
Her fingers sought out the necklace he’d given her. She traced the curve of the wings, the tiny etched lines. Men didn’t usually give jewelry casually.
Despite the pain in her head, she laughed softly. Did that mean the Angel of Death was her boyfriend? She was falling for him. Fast.
Good thing she was seeing him again tonight.
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