Olivia woke to the soft knock on her door. She wasn’t aware she’d fallen asleep, having taken to the surprisingly soft bed to brood and lick her emotional wounds. It worried her that her memories were not returning yet. How many hours had passed since they’d arrived? Lifting her head, she did a quick scan around the room. Not finding a clock, she glanced out the window. The last remnants of a setting sun gave the sky the most beautiful violet and pink backdrop. If she had to guess, it was after five. They probably had another hour of daylight, tops.
The knock sounded again, polite, a little hesitant—of course, Henry. He was probably here to “fetch” her for supper. As if on cue, her belly gave a complaining growl, but she wasn’t sure she could stomach watching that woman fawn over Liam for an entire meal. Clearly, those two had history, but Olivia was his present, and if Liam wasn’t willing to lay some boundaries down here, then she would.
Rolling off the bed, she padded across the room and pulled the door open just as the knocking started back up for a third time. “I’ll be down in a minute, Henry.” But it wasn’t Henry filling her doorway. No, her doorway was filled with a towering angel whose violet eyes darkened a shade closer to amethyst when they lit on her.
Just the sight of him heated Olivia’s blood, melting her pique and stirring a very wanton need deep in her core. Images of last night filled her mind, taking up the space that was meant for her memories, releasing a flood of desire and new sensations she wasn’t used to feeling, and honestly, wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
She felt like an emotional pendulum and the instability of so many things in her life nearly brought her to tears. Had she ever wanted something as much as she did this male standing before her? Yet, so much between them was uncertain, unspoken—undecided. Would her memories, if they ever returned, draw them closer together or, as he feared, drive a greater wedge between them? She’d been so confident earlier, so sure that nothing could separate them, but in truth, she wasn’t sure of anything—not anymore.
Liam frowned, dark brows wrinkling in concern. He cast a quick glance down the hall. All must have been clear, because he stepped inside. Hands cupping her face, he tipped her chin to meet her eyes. Olivia’s vision blurred with unshed tears.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Then, as if struck with a dreadful thought, he rushed, “You’re remembering, aren’t you?” He hissed an oath that sounded more like a deep growl.
“No. It’s not that. I still can’t remember a damn thing—”
“Then, what is it?”
Seriously? He didn’t know? “Liam, you’ve taken me to the home of your ex-girlfriend, who obviously still has some un-dealt-with feelings for you. Look, I understand you had a life before me. I mean, you’ve gotta be like… What? How old are you?”
“Old.” His blunt response left no indication he intended to elaborate.
“Can’t you see how coming here would be a problem for me? I think I at least deserved the courtesy of a head’s up on this one.”
He leaned back and there was no mistaking the surprised look on his handsome face that quickly hardened to ire.
Yep. Busted... “I just want to know, at what point were you going to tell me about you and Rebecca?”
“I wasn’t.”
“What?” She tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened.
“I wasn’t going to tell you because there isn’t anything to tell. Nothing’s going on between me and Rebecca. We’re friends. Good friends. That’s it.”
Had Olivia had her wits about her, she would have let it go right there. She was about to discover the quickest way to piss off an angel was to insult his integrity. But the image of that petite, busty blonde hanging on Liam’s arm was permanently burned into her retinas.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he verily growled.
That sounded more like an accusation than a bid for an apology.
He let her go and spun away in frustration, pacing in front of her. Then he abruptly stopped, locking his intense gaze on her. “I don’t feel like this is something I should have to prove to you, Olivia.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe she was being totally unfair to him, but dammit, she needed some absolutes in her life, and right now, he was the only anchor she had.
“Firstly, the fact that I said there is nothing going on between Rebecca and me belays the truth. I. Can’t. Lie. Second of all, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now if you had your memory back.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” she cut in.
“Because in your mind, you’re humanizing me, Olivia, and that’s not the way I’m put together. I don’t think like that. And I certainly don’t have relationships in the context you’re referring. You are the exception in my life, the filter through which every decision I make is made.”
The breath she’d taken, fueling up for a rebuttal, died on her lips in an exhale of defeat. How in the hell could she argue with that? Now it was her turn to close the distance. Olivia moved forward and threw her arms around his neck. Hugging him tightly, she whispered an apology, silently sending up a prayer of thanks when he didn’t pull away.
After a few tense seconds, his rigid muscles softened a touch, and he bent to meet her halfway, his own arms wrapping around her back, enveloping her in a cocoon of warm, muted spices that soothed her gnarled nerves. There was no resistance in him when she tugged him closer. Rising to her tip-toes, she lifted her head and brushed her lips across the grim line of his mouth. “I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I’m such a mess right now. With everything that’s happened lately… I’m just… I’m not myself.”
The exhale that teased her lips sounded as defeated as her own had been a few short minutes ago. “I love you, Olivia.” The husky growl of his voice was low and possessive as he took her mouth in a hungry kiss that obliterated any doubt that he unequivocally belonged to her. His mouth claimed hers with a mounting fever that shattered all sense of reason, all sense of propriety, all sense of where they were standing—with the door hanging wide open.
She urgently met the thrust of his tongue, intimately tangling and retreating. Invading again, each time with mounting desperation to taste more, to touch more, to take more... Olivia wasn’t about to stop him, not when the intimate places known only to Liam began to ache with renewed need. Slipping her hands under his shirt, she rode the ridges of his abdomen up to his pecks before sliding around to trace the muscular map of his back.
His answering low throaty groan was more like a hungry growl, as if he couldn’t be bothered to break their kiss long enough to warn her they were entering dangerous territory—and breaking his guardian/mortal rule—which was nothing but an unnecessary hindrance, if anyone asked her. To make her point and hopefully convince him to take this heated kiss four feet to the right and onto the velvet down-filled comforter, she dropped her palm to the front of his hip and slid it to the arousal straining to be free of its zipper-clad prison.
Who knows if it ever would have found freedom, because the precise moment that masculine chortle rumbled in his chest, a startled gasp filled the doorway behind them. Liam instantly tensed, his head snapping up so fast, her tooth nicked his bottom lip. He spun around before she could see the damage, meeting the startled, flushed face of Rebecca’s butler.
The man’s eyes instantly dropped to the floor, whether from embarrassment or in respect for their interrupted moment of privacy, she couldn’t tell—probably both. Henry stammered out an apology as he backed out of the doorway.
“There’s no need to apologize,” Liam graciously supplied. “We’ll be down for supper in a few minutes.”
Seeming relieved at the dismissal, the man gave them a deep bow and hastened away. Liam whispered a curse under his breath, his arm rising to drag a hand through his hair. Turning toward her, his tongue skated over the crimson stain on his lip, wiping away the evidence of their interrupted kiss. Flecks of sapphire still burned in his violet gaze. Neither of them spoke as they stood th
ere exchanging a wordless conversation.
“Would it be so bad if they knew?” She tried not to let her mind go where it was trying to take her. Down the path of “You’re not good enough,” and “He’s embarrassed to be with you”—funny, how someone’s insecurities could play havoc with their perceptions of reality.
“For them, it could be. I have enemies, Olivia, and so do you. The more they know about us, the greater risk that places them in.”
All right, so that made sense. Maybe this wasn’t about her after all.
“Your lip is bleeding.”
He sucked at the bottom corner and ran his tongue over the little nick. Arching a brow, he grinned seductively. “You never used to be such a biter.”
She gasped in feigned outrage and playfully socked him in the bicep. “That was your fault!”
As she marched past him to head downstairs, Liam snagged her wrist and pulled her back into his arms, caging her in a flesh-covered prison she was in no hurry to escape.
“What? Coming back for more, are you?” she teased. “Well aren’t you a glutton for punishment.”
Snapping her teeth at him, he chuckled. The deep rumbling melody was like music to her ears. It lightened her soul, filling her heart with some much needed joy. This was what she needed…him, relaxed and enjoying just being with her. Perhaps if they could table the drama and she could relax herself, it might do wonders for her memory and her outlook on things.
Liam planted a solid kiss on her mouth then leaned back, swiping his thumb across her bottom lip. “Come on, let’s go. If there’s still enough daylight left after supper, I’ll take you for a walk on the grounds.”
For at least the one-hundredth time, Liam questioned his wisdom in bringing Olivia here. To say she was stressed was an understatement. He so desperately wanted to help her, to make things right for her, that he’d agreed to take this chance knowing full well it may just end up biting him in the ass—especially if any warriors passed through while they were here.
Olivia was a stunning woman, much too beautiful for her own good. The angels that passed through here weren’t your average halo-wearing, harp-strumming good guys. They were an ass-kicking, demon-hunting band of rogues that wouldn’t hesitate to get up close and personal with his female if they thought, for even a second, she was fair game.
An unruly group of warriors, that lot—how Niall kept them under his command was kudos to that male’s leadership skills, and no doubt a very heavy hand. Were Liam not an officer in the army of the High Court, then commissioned into guardianship, he probably would have chosen the Rogues’ path for himself. Of course, who the hell knew what was in his future now? Relieved of his guardianship, he had no interest in returning to the guard of the High Court.
But a Rogue’s life wasn’t without sacrifice. Then again, what job wasn’t? Liam knew all about sacrifice—sacrifice for his Creator, for his job, for Olivia… Shit, going Rogue would probably be a cakewalk compared to the hell he’d been through.
Rogues did not reside in Heaven, which meant they were afforded more liberties than any other angel. Enduring separation from their Creator seemed like sacrifice enough. When not hunting and delivering demons into Sheol, most of the Rogues came here for their R&R. Occasionally, during especially daunting hunts, warriors would pass through here with their prisoners, taking a brief respite before continuing on.
The thought of these warriors coming through here, with or without demons in tow, sat ill with him. With any luck, the veil over Olivia’s memories would lift sooner than later, and he could take her back home. The idea of leaving her again, if only long enough to deliver Haden to court, caused a knot of dread to tighten in his gut.
As if sensing his turmoil, Olivia glanced toward the house as they strolled together, perhaps making sure they were truly alone before taking his hand and threading her fingers between his. “I hope this is all right. I don’t think anyone can see us from here.”
No doubt, it was a moot point by now. Henry would have run straight to Rebecca with what he’d seen, which was undoubtedly the cause for the coolly polite, silence-filled supper they’d all just endured. But regardless, he appreciated Olivia’s effort at discretion. Glancing down, he met her verdant stare, and his blood instantly heated with the primal need to take her in his arms and make her his own all over again. The love he felt for this woman consumed him, bordering on obsession, and a part of him wondered if Olivia would ever truly understand the depth of his devotion to her.
That she’d even suspected he’d had past relations with Rebecca told him the answer was most likely not. At least not until her memories returned, which selfishly, was the only up-side he could see to this scenario.
Returning her smile, he gave her hand a loving squeeze and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “It’s more than okay.”
Taking a change of direction, he led Olivia into the grove of fruit trees that had once been cotton fields. Guiding her over to the base of a pear tree, Liam sat on the lush bed of grass and leaned against the spine of the trunk. He pulled Olivia to sit between his outstretched legs. As she leaned into his chest, resting her head against his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her in a loose hug as they took in the view of the western skyline—only the faintest streaks of purple remained, soon to be swallowed up by the night.
They sat in silence, enjoying these few precious moments of stolen tranquility. Placing a kiss against her temple, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of fruit trees mingled with vanilla-jasmine.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she sighed. “It feels absolutely…heavenly.”
Olivia’s small frame seemed to melt into him and the tension slowly eased from her body.
“Even the air... There’s an energy…a presence here that I can’t quite describe.”
Liam chuckled softly at her astute perception. “Yes there is. This plantation was blessed and the ground made sacred in 1864. One year before the Civil War ended. Although the ground continues to produce life, the passage of time has nearly frozen here. Long ago, before the Great Flood, man lived to be nearly a thousand years old. The Creator’s presence made the world almost ageless. That supernatural power is what keeps this place in a form of stasis.”
Olivia crossed her arms over his and snuggled close as if trying to ward off the cool evening air.
“Are you chilled? Do you want to go back?”
“No. I don’t want to go back. I’m not sure I ever want to go back. It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t even exist. There’s this great sense of peace I feel here.”
It wasn’t the context in which he’d asked the question, but considering his needling concerns over bringing her to Landaketa, it pleased him to discover she was happy. She deserved to rest, to relax, before returning to the world and all its demands.
“What was the purpose in creating such a place as this?”
“After the Great Fall, a third of the angels were cast out of Heaven and many of them came to Earth, freely going between the dimensions of there and Hell. The wars of man drew the attention of the fallen. They had been forbidden from partaking in these wars lest they alter the outcome and disrupt prophesy. But this decree did not stop the demons from joining in these wars.
“Because the United States was a country favored by God, a nation birthed to escape religious tyranny, the outcome of the Civil War was a particularly vital conflict to a new country.”
She nodded that she was following him and her silky raven hair brushed against his neck. As she snuggled deeper into his chest, he wondered if she could feel his arousal pressing against the small of her back. The little shimmy of her hips as she worked herself closer, rubbed against him, scattering his thoughts. He stopped speaking as a tortured groan escaped his throat. He stretched his senses, and automatic response that came up empty as he instinctively searched for her emotional grid—a connection that had been his constant companion for the last seventeen years, ever since he’d assumed her
guardianship when she was a small child.
When he didn’t continue, she glanced up at him as if to see what the problem was. “Go on,” she encouraged. “I’m listening. In fact, I find your stories incredibly fascinating.”
It took all his self-control to continue talking when all he really wanted was to roll Olivia under him and make love to her beneath the cover of night. What was he saying? Oh, right…America, favored country… “During the Civil War, demonic possession was heavy, and they were starting to shift the outcome out of God’s favor. So a legion of warrior angels was sent under the leadership of an archangel named Niall. Their job was, and is still, to hunt earth-walkers—demons that live in Earth’s realm and would harm humans.
“The war was long and the battles were brutal. It was lasting much longer than the time God had allowed, so near the end of the war, Michael’s legion—my legion—aligned with Niall’s for a short time to step in and wage war against the darkness that had deceived a multitude of men, pitting brother against brother. A nation founded on Godly principles was caving in on itself, consumed in a blanket of deceit, hatred, and greed. BC philosophies that should have died on the cross remained rooted in arrogance and pride.
“When we came here, hunting the fallen wasn’t easy because many were hidden in the bodies of mortals. Our prolonged stay made it necessary for a sanctuary to be established. The warriors needed a sacred ground where we could reside, a place to contain imprisoned demons and heal from battles. This land became protected, and to this day remains impenetrable by our enemies.”
“Is that when you met Rebecca?”
“It is.”
“Tell me about her.”
“Rebecca’s story isn’t mine to share. But I will tell you that she has endured incredible hardship, and has persevered over what would have destroyed most women. Perhaps she’d share it with you if you asked her. But right now,” he whispered, dipping his head to nuzzle the side of her neck as he breathed in her feminine scent, “I think I’ve done enough talking for a while.” He nipped the sensitive flesh behind her ear and smiled at the startled gasp that caught in her throat. She tipped her head to the side, a silent invitation for more as she reached up and threaded her finger into his hair.
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