Kiss an Angel

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by Susan Elizabeth Phillips


  Now that she was no longer worried about Glenna, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Adding to her well-being was the fact that Brady had returned from the airport today with Heather. He’d been prickly as a porcupine when Daisy had asked him what had happened, but she noticed that he’d kept Heather at his side for most of the day. And Heather hadn’t looked so happy all summer.

  In some ways Daisy thought these past two weeks had been the best in her life. Alex had been so tender and affectionate that he hardly seemed like the same man. She’d made up her mind to tell him about the baby tonight, although she was still working out exactly what she would say.

  He smiled at her, and he looked so handsome her heart did a crazy little flip-flop. Most rugged men didn’t wear suits well, but he was a definite exception.

  “You look beautiful tonight.”

  “I was afraid I’d forgotten how to dress up.” For once she didn’t feel compelled to tell him how much better her mother would have looked, maybe because her appearance was no longer as important to her as it once had been. She’d spent so many days in jeans and a ponytail without a stitch of make-up on her face that tonight she felt quite glamorous.

  “I give you my personal guarantee that you haven’t forgotten a thing.”

  She smiled. For their dinner out, she was wearing the only nice outfit she had, a bone silk charmeuse tank with a short, bias cut skirt in the same fabric. She’d made a belt from a long, antique gold scarf, looping it twice around her waist and letting the fringed ends dangle. Her jewelry consisted of her wedding band and a pair of chunky matte-gold earrings. Because she hadn’t wanted to waste money on haircuts, her hair was longer than she’d worn it in years, and after so many weeks of keeping it up in a ponytail, it felt incredibly sexy brushing her neck and floating above her shoulders.

  Their waiter appeared and set two salads before them, each one a combination of artichoke hearts, pea pods, and cucumber dressed with raspberry vinaigrette and a crumble of feta cheese.

  As the waiter disappeared, Daisy whispered, “Maybe we should have ordered the house salad. This is awfully expensive.”

  Alex seemed amused by her concern. “Even poor folks have to celebrate once in a while.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll fit it into the budget.”

  She secretly resolved to plan inexpensive meals for the next few weeks to make up for it. Although Alex didn’t talk much about money, she couldn’t believe a professor at a small college earned very much.

  “Are you sure you don’t want any wine?”

  “No, this is fine.” As she took a sip from her tumbler of club soda, she forced her eyes away from the wine that glistened in his glass. He’d ordered one of the most expensive bottles on the menu and she would have loved a sip, but she wasn’t taking any chances with this baby.

  They really shouldn’t be wasting money like this with the baby coming. As soon as they finished their tour, she’d get a job and work right up until it was time for her to deliver so she could help pay all the additional expenses. Four months ago she would never have been able to imagine such a thing, but now the idea of hard work didn’t bother her. She realized she liked the person she had become.

  “Eat. I love watching you slip that fork into your mouth.” His voice deepened until it grew blatantly seductive. “It reminds me of all those other things you do with your mouth.”

  Color flooded her cheeks. She turned her attention to the salad and with every bite she took, felt his eyes on her. Erotic images began flashing through her head.

  “Will you stop it!” She plunked down her fork in exasperation.

  He caressed the stem of his wineglass with his strong, tapered fingers, then ran his thumb over the rim. “Stop what?”

  “Seducing me!”

  “I thought you liked being seduced.”

  “Not when I’m fully dressed sitting in the middle of a restaurant.”

  “I see your point. I can tell you’re wearing a bra under that top. Do you have panties on?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No. I’m wearing sandals, so I didn’t put pantyhose on.”

  “Good. Now here’s what I want you to do. Get up and go into the rest room. Slip off every stitch of your underwear and put it in your purse. Then come back to me.”

  Heat pooled in the most secret recesses of her body. “I most certainly will not!”

  “Do you know what happened the last time a Petroff defied a Romanov?”

  “I think I’m about to find out.”

  “She lost her head.”

  “I see.”

  “Not without a head. You’ve got ten seconds.”

  Although she kept her expression disapproving, her pulse had begun to throb in response to his mischief. “Is this a royal command?”

  “You bet your sweet little ass it is.”

  His words were a sexy caress that nearly undid her, but she managed to tighten her lips and rise from the table with a great show of unwillingness. “You, sir, are a tyrant and a despot.”

  She exited the dining room to the throaty sound of his chuckle.

  When she returned five minutes later, she hurried to their banquette. Even though the lights were dim, she was certain everyone in the room could see that she was naked underneath the thin silk charmeuse fabric. Alex openly perused her as she approached. There was an arrogance in his posture that marked him as a Romanov through and through.

  As she settled next to him, he draped his arm across her shoulders and ran his finger along her collarbone. “I was going to make you open your purse and show me your underwear so I could be sure you’d followed orders, but as it turns out, that won’t be necessary.”

  “You can see through, can’t you?” Her gaze darted to the side. “Now everybody knows I’m naked under my clothes, and it’s all your fault. I should never have let you talk me into this.”

  He slipped his hand under her hair and clasped the back of her neck. “As I recall, you didn’t have any choice. It was a royal command, remember?”

  He was pulling her chain three ways from Sunday, and she was enjoying every minute. She glared at him to keep him going. “I don’t answer to royal commands.”

  He leaned closer and brushed her earlobe with his lips. “With a snap of my fingers, sweetheart, I can have you thrown in the dungeon. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?”

  She was saved a reply by the appearance of the waiter. He had removed the remnants of their salads while she was away, and now he set the main course before them. Alex had blackened salmon, while she’d ordered pasta. Her linguini dish was fragrant with savory herbs and plump, juicy shrimp mingling with an assortment of fresh vegetables. As she sampled the dish, she tried to forget that she was nearly naked, but Alex wouldn’t let her.

  “Daisy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t want to make you nervous, but . . .”

  He flipped open the napkin that covered a basket of warm rolls and perused the contents. Since each roll was identical, she saw no reason why it should take him so long to make a selection, except to keep her purposely dangling.

  “What?” she demanded. “Tell me?”

  He split open the roll and slowly spread it with butter. “If you don’t completely satisfy me tonight . . .” He gazed over at her, and his eyes filled with mock regret “I’m afraid I’ll have to give you to my men.”

  “What!” She nearly leaped off the cushions.

  “Just a little incentive to inspire you.” With a diabolical smile, he sank his strong, white teeth into the roll and ripped it apart.

  Who could ever have imagined this stern, complex man would be such an imaginative lover? She decided two could play his naughty game, and she smiled sweetly. “I understand, your majesty. And I’m far too terrified of your royal importance to dream of disappointing you.”

  One eyebrow lifted d
iabolically as he speared a shrimp from her plate and lifted it to her lips. “Open for me, sweetheart.”

  She took her time sucking the shrimp into her mouth and ran her toes up the inside of his calf, grateful that the dim lighting and seclusion of the banquette kept them from making public spectacles of themselves. She had the satisfaction of feeling his calf muscles tighten and knew he wasn’t nearly as detached as he was pretending.

  “Do you have your legs crossed?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Uncross them.”

  She nearly choked.

  “And keep them that apart for the rest of the evening.”

  Her food was suddenly tasteless, and all she could think about was leaving the restaurant and falling into bed with him.

  She separated her legs a few inches. He touched her knee beneath the tablecloth, and his voice no longer sounded quite as steady as it had earlier. “Very good. You know how to take commands.” He slipped his hand beneath her skirt and slid it up along her inner thigh.

  His sheer audacity took her breath away, and at that moment she felt very much like a slave girl offered up for dalliance to this man who would be czar. The fantasy made her weak with desire.

  Although neither of them gave any overt signs of hurrying, they finished their meals quickly, and both declined either coffee or dessert. They were soon on the road back to the circus.

  He didn’t speak to her until they were inside the trailer, where he tossed his keys on the counter and turned to her. “Have you had enough games for tonight, sweetheart?”

  The caress of silk on bare skin and their flirtation with public discovery had set aside her inhibitions, but she still felt a bit foolish as she lowered her eyes and tried to look submissive.

  “Whatever your majesty pleases.”

  He smiled. “Then undress me.”

  She removed his suit coat and tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and pressed her lips to his chest. The silky brush of hair tickled her lips, and his skin broke out in gooseflesh. She touched a hard, brown nipple with her tongue. Her fingers felt clumsy as she fumbled with his belt buckle, and when she finally had it open, she began to unfasten his zipper.

  “Take off your clothes first,” he said. “And give me that scarf.”

  Her hands trembled as she unwrapped the antique gold scarf from her waist and handed it over to him. She removed her earrings, then kicked off her sandals. With one smooth motion, she drew her tank top over her head and revealed her breasts. The catch on her skirt gave way beneath her fingers, and the fragile silk slid down over her hips. She stepped out of it and stood naked before her husband.

  He ran one hand over her body, shoulder to breast, ribs to thigh, as if he were marking his property. The gesture sent liquid heat rushing through her, inflaming her until she could barely stand. Satisfied, he drew the gold scarf through his hand and let the fringe trickle slowly between his fingers.

  There was an air of erotic menace in the gesture, and she couldn’t take her eyes from the glimmering fabric. What was he going to do with it?

  She caught her breath in a hiss as he looped it around her neck so that the sides fell over her breasts. Clasping the fringed ends in his hands, he slowly pulled, first one side, than the other. Back and forth. The metallic gold threads woven through the silk abraded her nipples like the lightest scrape of a fingernail. Sensation, warm and thick, spread through her belly.

  His eyes darkened to the color of old brandy. “Who do you belong to?”

  “You,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Just so you understand.”

  She finished undressing him. When he was naked, she slid her palms over his thighs, feeling the hard textures of skin and muscle. He was magnificently aroused. Her breasts felt heavy, and she wanted to go further, but she surrendered to the grip of the fantasy.

  “What do you want from me now?” she asked.

  His jaw was clenched, and he made an inarticulate sound deep in his throat as he pressed down on her shoulders. “This.”

  Her heart swelled. She followed his silent command and loved him as she wanted to. Time lost meaning. Despite her posture of submission, she had never felt more powerful. His voiceless sounds of pleasure fueled her excitement, while his hands, tangled in her hair, told her without words of his need.

  She felt the rigid tension of his muscles beneath her palms and the sheen of sweat that formed on his skin. Without warning, he pulled her to her feet and drew her down on the bed.

  He reared back just enough to look into her eyes. “Perform well, and I’ll let you service me again.”

  Oh, my. He must have felt her shiver because his eyes narrowed with satisfaction. She parted her legs.

  “Not so fast.” He captured her earlobe in his teeth and gave it a gentle nip. “First I need to punish you.”

  “Punish me?” She stiffened, thinking of the whips stored under the bed, just beneath their hips.

  “You excited me but you didn’t finish what you started.”

  “That’s because you—”

  “Enough.” Once again, he reared back and regarded her with all the lofty arrogance of his Romanov heritage.

  She felt herself relax. He would never hurt her.

  “When I want your opinion, woman, I’ll ask for it. Until then, you’d be wise to hold your tongue. My Cossacks have been a long time without a woman.”

  She gave him a squinty-eyed look that told him he was pushing it.

  One corner of his mouth quivered, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he dipped his head and brushed his lips across the inside of her thigh. “There’s only one fit punishment for a slave who can’t stay silent. A vicious tongue-lashing.”

  The ceiling spun as he delivered on his threat and transported her into a realm of hot delight and ancient ecstasy. His body grew slick with perspiration and the muscles of his shoulders bunched beneath her hands, but still he wouldn’t stop. Only when she begged him did he finally force the sweet entry she needed so desperately.

  He drove deep and true, and all the mischief faded from his eyes. “I want to love you now,” he whispered.

  Her eyes stung with tears as he spoke the words she’d been longing to hear. She clung to his body, and they fell into a rhythm as timeless as the beat of their hearts. They moved as one, and she felt his love filling her, suffusing her, spilling into her very soul.

  They swirled together, man and woman, earth and sky, all the elements of creation converging in a perfect melding.

  When it was over, she felt a joy she’d never before experienced and a certainty that everything was going to be all right between them. I want to love you, he’d said. Not, I want to make love to you, but I want to love you. And he had. He couldn’t have loved her more completely if he’d spoken the words a hundred times.

  She gazed across the pillow at him. He lay facing her, his eyes half-lidded, slumberous. Reaching over, she caressed his cheekbone, and he turned his head to press his lips against her palm.

  She rubbed her thumb along his jawbone, enjoying the slight abrasion against her skin. “Thank you.”

  “I’m the one who should thank you.”

  “I hope that means you’re not going to give me to your Cossacks?”

  “I wouldn’t share you with anybody.”

  The erotic game they’d been playing had made her forget the promise she’d made to tell him about the baby. Now.

  “You haven’t said anything about the divorce for a while.”

  He immediately grew wary and rolled to his back. “It hasn’t been on my mind.”

  She was disheartened by his withdrawal, but she’d known this would be difficult, and she continued to press him as gently as she could. “I’m glad. It’s not a good thing to think about.”

  He gazed over at her, his eyes deeply troubled. “I know what you want me to say, but I can’t do it yet. Just give me a little more time, will you?”

  With her heart in her throat, she nodded.

  He looked as
skittish as a wild animal brought too close to civilization. “Let’s just take it day by day for now.”

  She understood that the worst thing she could do was make him feel trapped, and the fact that he wasn’t still insisting their marriage would be over in two more months gave her the confidence to wait just a little longer. “Of course we can.”

  He drew himself up and leaned into the pillows propped against the headboard. “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, don’t you?”

  “I certainly do.”

  He chuckled, and the tension seemed to leave him. She rolled onto her stomach, propped herself on her elbows, and stirred his chest hair with her fingertips. “Wasn’t Catherine the Great a Romanov?”

  “Yes.”

  “I read that she had a lusty nature.”

  “She had a long string of lovers.”

  “And a lot of power.” She leaned forward and nipped his pectoral muscle with her teeth. He jumped, so she nipped him again.

  “Ouch!” He caught her chin and tilted it. “Exactly what’s going on in that devious little brain of yours?”

  “I was just imagining all those strong men forced to bow down to Catherine the Great.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Forced to serve her. To submit to her.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  She brushed her lips across his. “It’s your turn to be the slave, big guy.”

  For a moment he looked startled, and then he gave a sigh that came all the way from his toes. “I think I just died and went to heaven.”

  21

  Alex had been impossible all week. Ever since they’d gone out to dinner and then returned to play their erotic games, he’d been looking for excuses to pick an argument with her, and now he scowled at her as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

  “Couldn’t you have put some gas in the truck when you when into town for groceries?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice it was empty.”

  “You never notice,” he said belligerently. “Do you think it runs on air?”

 

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