To Hell and Back (Mel Goes to Hell Series Book 4)

by Demelza Carlton

  The blankets screening Mel's nakedness slipped off her shoulders as Luce let go. "Hasn't he ever heard of knocking?" Luce grumbled.

  Mel laughed softly. "Probably, but I think he's so excited I'm here that he forgot. Never mind. We still have plenty of time before we need to get up. The meeting's not until ten, right?"

  Grudgingly, Luce confirmed it. And with the flat to themselves, maybe he could persuade Mel to make a little noise…

  When they did stumble out of bed some time later, Mel headed straight for the shower while Luce searched the kitchen for coffee. He was still staring suspiciously at the jar of instant coffee, wondering if he could stand to choke it down, when Mel emerged.

  She buttoned the pale grey jacket over her smoke-coloured shirt, so that the suit accentuated her curves perfectly while presenting clean lines that said she was all business. "Patrick knows I have a taste for the croissants from the patisserie downstairs, so he'll probably have left some in the fridge." She tugged the fridge door open and set the bakery box on the bench. "More than enough for both of us."

  Luce barely tasted his breakfast. He couldn't keep his eyes off Mel – he'd never seen her wear these clothes before. Even the aqua scarf she tied at her throat was new to him. When she leaned over to put on her shoes, he couldn’t resist her any more.

  Mel carefully peeled his hand off her arse. "Luce, this is a business meeting. We have to remain professional for at least a few hours. When it's over, then you can misbehave."

  "I can't help it," he replied, devouring her with his eyes instead. "Your skirt is taunting me. It's moulded so perfectly to your body that it's making me jealous."

  She laughed. "Luce, you're staring at my bum again."

  He wanted to apologise, but he knew he'd be lying if he said he was sorry. "We should probably get going," he said instead.

  When they arrived, a secretary ushered them straight through to a meeting room where three men already waited.

  "Andy, Charles, Alexander," Luce said as he shook hands with each of them. 'This is Mel." He waved her forward and reined in his jealousy as each man took her hand.

  "What happened to your old PA? The cheeky brunette?" Andy asked as he ensconced himself on a chair.

  Luce's heart sank. They wouldn't be asking after Persephone if they'd met with her recently. "I expected her to travel here and meet with you. I take it she hasn't?"

  Three heads shook.

  "We'll just have to manage without her. It seems she's not as useful as I'd hoped." Luce gave a bland smile. "That's why Mel's here."

  Charles grinned, dragging his chair closer to the table. "But the last one had such a firm grasp of the principles behind a national system like ours."

  Luce tried not to stare. Is that how Persephone had managed to negotiate such favourable terms in the UK? Had she seduced the government officials, too?

  Mel cleared her throat. "I believe in this case, we require more than just a firm grasp on what lies behind. In order for this relationship to work, the HELL Corporation must have an intimate knowledge of the anatomy of the entire system, both inside and out. That, Director General, is why I'm here." The serene smile never left her face.

  Luce melted. That voice and that tone and…

  Mel's hand clamped over his before his fingers could creep any higher up her thigh. The others didn't look like they'd noticed a thing – they seemed to be sharing similar thoughts to the fantasy spinning through Luce's head, though they couldn't know Mel's body anywhere near as well as he did.

  Alexander recovered first. "That sounds ambitious, so perhaps we'd best get started."

  Within fifteen minutes, Luce had started to doze. Mel's gentle nudge under the table brought him back to the present, but it didn't seem to be more interesting than the contents of his own head. With Mel's help, he managed to keep his eyes open for the rest of the meeting, but it was a challenge. Negotiating the agreements between the UK government and the HELL Corporation was one thing, but hashing out all the details was so tedious he swore he'd make underlings deal with it for every other contract he'd secured or he'd murder someone. Was there any chance Mel would be willing to…

  Mel gave a tiny head-shake.

  After what seemed like forever – which, according to Luce's watch was really less than two hours – Mel said, "Thank you, gentlemen. I think that pretty much covers the groundwork for our relationship. I'll take my notes back to the office and get some of our staff to work on the details. Once we're done, I'll see to it that you're sent the complete proposal." She gathered her papers and tucked them into her folder. Her fingers stroked the golden-brown leather once and were still.

  "I like your new PA, Iblis," Charles said as he reached across the table to shake Luce's hand. His eyes darted pointedly to Luce's other hand, still sitting on Mel's thigh. "Is she as accommodating as the last one?"

  Mel's eyes dropped demurely to the desk as if she was flattered. She couldn't have caught the innuendo, then, Luce decided. But he sure had.

  Luce's anger flamed into life. Mel wasn't accommodating – any attention she gave him was Heaven-sent, not some sordid workplace flirtation. "Mel isn't my PA. She's agreed to be the Chief Financial Officer at the HELL Corporation as a personal favour to me."

  Mel rose. "I apologise. I thought you gentlemen remembered me, so no introduction would be necessary. It was my mistake. I'm Murielle D'Angelo. As Luce said, temporary CFO in HELL."

  Alexander's eyes narrowed as if he recognised her name, but couldn't seem to work out why. The other two men didn't seem to know her at all.

  "I fulfil a similar role in Asia, the Middle East and the Pacific to what Patrick Driscoll does in the UK and Eire," Mel added.

  Andy's eyes lit up. "Driscoll's your mentor?"

  Luce laughed. "I think you'll find it's the other way around. When Patrick needs help, he calls Mel. Just like I did." He watched as Mel's hand was clasped between each man's for much longer this time, while each looked her squarely in the eye as they thanked her for her time.

  Mel tucked her arm through Luce's as they walked onto Whitehall. When he tried to turn left, she tugged him to the right. "I don't want to take the Tube. It's only a couple of miles. I want to walk. All the gardens and old buildings on the way…it's been a long time since I've been in London and it's so green." She paused, then added, "Plus, we'll probably find somewhere nicer to buy lunch than on the underground."

  He agreed and soon they were headed along an avenue of pale-trunked trees, the branches overhead only just starting to show their feathery spring leaves.

  Mel sighed contentedly, breathing out her tension with every step. She hadn't been prepared to run today's meeting, expecting Luce to do that instead of daydreaming. A lot had happened since she'd talked Persi through the initial negotiations that had secured the contract in the first place, and she hadn't been so tired then. She'd let Luce and even Patrick believe that her exhaustion was because of the flight, but she knew better. Mel was soul-weary to the point of needing a sabbatical, and soon.

  If only there wasn't so much to do. Persi was still missing. The HELL Corporation needed better senior management. Luce required a mentor to help him learn to be an angel again after so long. And then there was…

  Mel's thoughts were dragged back to the present as Luce pinned her to a tree. "What are you doing?" she asked, giving him a gentle push.

  "The skies just opened up and you're soaked," he replied.

  Mel lifted her sleeve and stared in wonder. He was right, she realised, watching rainwater trickle down her fingers to the pavement. She shivered. Being soaked in spring in Australia was one thing; here in London it was a much more serious matter. How could she have forgotten where she was? She hadn't even brought an umbrella. Mel closed her eyes. She was so tired she was slipping. Even her thoughts were sluggish as she racked her brain, trying to remember what she should do.

  Finally, she said, "Can you get a cab for us?" Her eyes fixed on his, praying that she was right in trusti
ng Luce to take care of her. Was it too soon? He'd been an angel again for such a short time and demons weren't known for their helpfulness. Especially when an angel showed signs of weakness.

  "Of course." The comforting heat of his body vanished as he approached the kerb, pulling her along with him. He hailed a cab and helped her inside, then sat beside her and hugged her close for the short drive back to Patrick's place. She jerked awake from her light doze when the car stopped, shocked that she'd slept. Why was she so weary? What had she done? Was this the result of the energy burst that had destroyed those dark souls? She'd certainly stay away from Hell for a bit, then, until she felt better.

  Mel stumbled up the stairs after Luce, debating whether she was more tired today than she'd been upon their arrival yesterday. A flight without sleep was nothing compared to today's meeting, slipping in and out of three men's thoughts as she strove to ensure the meeting ran smoothly. And all the while wondering where Persi was.

  "Let's get you out of those wet clothes," Luce murmured, unbuttoning her jacket and peeling it from her soaked shirt.

  Uncontrollable shivering made her teeth chatter, making it an effort for her to get the words out. "Always tr-trying to get me naked. You got drenched, too, Luce. Why aren't you shivering?"

  He grinned and shucked off his jacket and shirt. Carefully licking his finger, he ran it down his chiselled chest. A wisp of steam curled up and Luce chuckled. "Because I'm your hot, sexy devil, that's why. Of course I want you naked. A hot shower will help, but it's pretty pointless with clothes on."

  Mel nodded and stepped into the warm spray, lifting her closed eyes to Heaven as Luce crowded in behind her. Hard muscles pressed against her back as his arms circled her waist.

  "Sorry about the hard-on, Mel, but you know what your body does to me," he whispered in her ear. "I swear I'll wait until you're warm before I even consider suggesting sex."

  "That'll be hard for you," Mel blurted out before she'd really considered the words.

  Luce kissed the top of her head, laughing softly. "Yes it will, but taking care of you comes first. Before my ego and my libido."

  Patrick's words from last night, Mel thought muzzily. So Luce had been listening to him after all.

  The warm body supporting hers let go and Mel leaned against the tiles as she regained her balance.

  "I'll go find you some dry clothes. You stay under the hot water, okay?"

  "Mm."

  Luce seemed to take this as agreement or at least acknowledgement and he left.

  The water flow ceased, forcing Mel to open her eyes. A warm towel brushed against her back, then draped across her shoulders. Automatically, she pulled the edges around herself to leach some of the warmth into her body.

  Firm hands rubbed the soft flannel against her skin, wicking away the water. "Mel, are you all right?" Luce asked.

  She looked up into his concerned eyes. Now or never, she decided. Time to find out what a reformed demon did with a weakened angel. "No. I'm too tired." If this was a mistake, at least Patrick would be home in a few hours to take care of her.

  "So you'd like me to help you to bed?"

  Her head wasn't working right. Too lethargic to think. "I don't know."

  Luce looked lost for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "How about I help you get dressed and you can rest on the couch while I arrange some lunch for us?"

  Mel nodded.

  Her clumsy fingers hindered more than helped as Luce dressed her in some of her comfortable winter clothes that lived here in London most of the time, but he didn't make a single complaint. Instead, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the modular sofa in the lounge room.

  Luce dropped to his knees beside her so their eyes were level. "Will you be okay here for bit while I head out to get you something for lunch? I might be able to rustle up something in the kitchen, but the chances of it being edible are pretty slim. Unless you want an omelette."

  Mel summoned a smile. "There are no eggs. I checked this morning. I'll be fine. I'll just…sleep a little, maybe."

  Luce nodded. "This isn't just because of the flight yesterday, is it?"

  For the first time, she cursed the angelic requirement to tell the truth. Luce didn't need the additional burden of knowing how much his rescue from Hell had taxed her. "No."

  His lips brushed lightly against hers. "You rest until I come back. I want to know what can turn my invincible angel into a shadow of herself."

  Mel nodded and sank into the couch cushions. Sleep was just a whisper away.

  Why was it so cold? Mel reached for the blankets to pull them over her head, but found none. Blinking, she looked around. The darkening sky outside the window told her it was evening, but she couldn't remember having lunch. She'd somehow fallen asleep on the sofa but she was colder now than she'd been that morning.

  "I thought you were going to sleep all afternoon," Luce said, his touch tingling as he stroked her hair.

  Tingling…healing…he'd been healing her as she lay unconscious. Well, that sure answered her question about whether he'd help her or cause more trouble while she was weak, but it didn't explain the chilly inside air. On the other hand, she certainly felt more like herself. Luce's healing ability was improving.

  "You should have woken me," she said, sitting up. "What happened to lunch?"

  "In the fridge. I figured I'd heat yours up when you woke."

  Mel nodded and rose stiffly to her feet. "Why's it so cold in here?"

  Luce shrugged. "It is? I didn't notice."

  Shaking her head, Mel hurried to the bedroom and shrugged into her winter coat. Luce wasn't in the lounge room when she returned, so she followed the sound of swearing to the kitchen. "What is it?"

  Luce held out his finger. "Paper cut from the tea box."

  Mel laughed and healed him with a touch. "Tea would help."

  "I figured whisky would warm you up pretty well, too, but I wasn't sure which you'd prefer." Luce nudged the glass on the bench and the aroma of aged whisky wafted Mel's way.

  She breathed deeply. "That's Patrick's new one, the bottle you boys were drinking last night, isn't it? So you two didn't finish it off while I was asleep." She lifted the glass and sniffed. "Now I know why you boys didn't argue. Wouldn't want to spill a drop of this." She sipped it and sighed with pleasure. "I should have tea, but I haven't had whisky this good in a while." Carefully, she drank half of it, then handed the glass to Luce. "You should have some, too, so I'm not drinking alone. Thank you for taking such good care of me."

  He looked gratified. "Of course I took care of you. With all you do for me, how could I not return the favour? It wasn't exactly a hardship. I got to undress you, share your shower, and hold you in my arms. Any time, Melody, I'd do anything for you." He drank some of her whisky. "Damn, that's good. See? I even get to share great whisky with you. Now, I should probably heat up your lunch. Are you hungry?"

  Mel glanced at her watch. "Yes, but Patrick said he'd be done by five and it's close to that now. He'll be back within the hour and then we'll go out for dinner. I'll be fine to wait, as long as he isn't late."

  A door slammed downstairs, followed by the thunder of running footsteps on old wooden stairs. "You're talking about me, aren't you?" Patrick called up. "Well, that's funny, because you're the one on everyone's lips today. The Chief of MI6 or whatever they're called now almost dragged me out of the Prime Minister's office to interrogate me about you. Wanted to know how I knew Ms D'Angelo…or as he called her, the Angel of Afghanistan." He reached for a glass and poured himself some whisky. "Care to explain?"

  Mel permitted herself a small smile. "He was the senior British intelligence officer stationed in Afghanistan. I'm surprised he didn't recognise me this morning. He must have a lot on his plate at the moment. It was nothing unusual. You know me in war, Patrick. I…help."

  "Help?" Luce repeated darkly.

  Mel laid a hand on his arm. "It's what I do best. I help wars end and I try to minimise the casualties duri
ng the conflict. Afghanistan was actually easier than Iraq, which isn't saying much. It was the sand that got to me most. Now, I managed to skip lunch, so is there any chance you boys will agree to have an early dinner on my account? Patrick, you mentioned venison and I've been trying to work out how long it's been since I tasted it. You know what? I don't know. I must have forgotten."

  Patrick grinned. "Let me get out of my work clothes and we can go. You might want to change, too, Mel – this one's a fancy restaurant and you know how Londoners get."

  Mel glanced down. Yes, she did know how Londoners got. Sighing, she headed for the bedroom to find a suitable dress for dinner.

  Patrick called after her, "Don't take too long primping. I'm starving, and after dinner I'm dying to hear all about your adventures in Hell."

  Patrick reached for the bottle of wine. "I still can't believe you brought ping pong balls into Hell, Mel. I’m going to be laughing about that one for ages. Every time I think about it." Red wine glugged into his glass. He held the bottle out to Luce. "More?"

  Luce glanced at his nearly full glass and shook his head. He'd lost track of how much he'd had to drink, but it wasn't like he'd be driving. All he had to do was stumble down the passage to bed. He could crawl and still make it.

  "She's the only angel to ever make it all the way through Hell unscathed, and out again, too," Luce said, raising his glass before he gulped half of it down. "Nothing short of miraculous, that's Melody."

  "An angel in Hell." Patrick burst out laughing, still shaking his head. "No one else would have dared…and you just walked in there. Mel, what were you thinking?"

  Mel was strangely silent.

  "Mel?"

  Both Patrick and Luce stared at her. Mel's eyes were closed and her even breathing was the only sound in the silent flat.