Falling for Grace (Four Winds)

by Anne Conley

  “I think Carmen left everything warm, we should go ahead and eat while it’s still hot.” Damien continued leading her to the kitchen, where the table was set. As Damien pulled dishes out of the oven and brought them to the table, Grace sniffed.

  “It smells wonderful.”

  “Carmen’s been with me a while. She’s a superb cook.” He lifted a lid. “And it looks like she’s having a Chinese night. I hope you like it.” The last dish held utensils, fancy lacquered chopsticks that made Grace laugh.

  “I can’t use chopsticks.”

  He shrugged. “No worries. I can feed you.”

  “I can’t use a fork?”

  His eyes grew wide with feigned shock. “You can’t eat Chinese with a fork! It’s unheard of!”

  This playful side of Damien was nice to see. He’s seemed so intense the first time they’d met, as well as others. It was good to know he wasn’t always so serious.

  “Okay, but if you don’t feed me what I want, I’ll find my own fork.”

  “You point, I’ll feed. It’ll be fun.” He picked up the chair he was standing behind. “The only problem is, I’ll have to move my chair around to that side of the table. This is too far away. We’re not in heaven.”

  “What?”

  “Old Chinese story.” He said as he moved his chair around to where Grace was, before going back for his plate and glass. “When you die, everyone is given a pair of chopsticks, three feet long. When you go to Hell, you see everybody sitting at a huge table full of food, trying to eat with these ridiculously long chopsticks, but they can’t feed themselves.” He pantomimes trying to eat without bending his elbows. “When you go to heaven, you see everybody sitting at the same table, but they’re full and happy, because they’re feeding each other across the table with the huge chopsticks.”

  He finished his story and sat down next to Grace, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

  “But you are feeding me. So this is sort of like heaven?” He held a tempting morsel of something stir fried out for her to taste, and she did, closing her eyes as the flavors exploded on her tongue.

  When she opened her eyes, Damien was staring at her, his eyes black. “Make no mistake Grace. This is not Heaven.”

  “Nope. It’s Galveston.” She giggled and then pointed to something else, opening her mouth for Damien to fill with the next taste.

  As they slowly progressed through dinner, Grace found herself having an enjoyable time. Damien was witty and smart and patiently fed her until she was full, taking bites of his own between hers. Each bite was delicious, and she showed her appreciation with flirty moans, closing her eyes to savor the flavors.

  She knew dinner was a prelude to something else, and as wonderful as dinner was, she was anxious to move on.

  She’d never slept with a guy on the first date before, had never wanted to cheapen herself that way. But Damien didn’t seem like he would be adverse to her philosophical changes. And the way he looked at her while she chewed and moaned told her he was more than willing to take this a step further tonight.

  After her last bite, she leaned back in her chair, stretched her legs out and patted her stomach. “That was sinfully delicious, Damien. Tell Carmen thanks. Is she your housekeeper?”

  “Yes, of sorts.” His eyes took on a vague, faraway look for a second, then focused themselves back on Grace. He took her hand and rose, guiding her up as well. He led her out to the balcony outside the kitchen before turning to her. “We both know you’re not just here to eat. Why don’t we carry on to…other activities?”

  He was right. Grace hadn’t just come here to eat. Dinner was delicious, and she enjoyed it immensely, but she needed more. She needed something to forget that she’d lost her mind. She needed something real.

  And this tall, dark, stranger was very real.

  He dipped his head and kissed her then, his smokey scent overwhelming her senses. His kiss was real, and his tongue inside her mouth, seducing her was real. She moaned into his mouth, and his hands went around her, grasping her backside to pull her closer.

  The familiar green haze descended on her consciousness, and she inwardly rolled her eyes. Not now. Please, not now.

  Grace? Where are you?

  She ignored Rafe’s voice inside her head, hoping that it would go away and not ruin this night. She felt Damien’s tongue still and wondered if she had reacted some way that he noticed.

  “Everything okay?” He asked her, solicitously.

  She nodded and grabbed his neck, pulling his head back for another kiss.

  Are you with him? She froze. The Deceiver? Does he have you? Grace, you’ve got to get away from him! I’m coming, Grace. I’m coming.

  Grace pulled away slightly, while Damien’s grip tightened. “The Deceiver?” She mumbled to herself, not realizing it was out loud. At the words, Damien’s countenance changed, almost imperceptibly, but Grace noticed.

  She was looking at his eyes, or she wouldn’t have seen anything. But they flashed something that looked scaly and red, at the same time a wave of nausea gripped her stomach.

  “Tell him to go away Grace.” His voice was steely, and she was scared by the transformation. It was subtle, but Grace was no longer turned on. She no longer wanted to spend the night with Damien. She wanted to leave. “Come with me, Grace. I can make your every desire come true. I can show you pleasures you never imagined. Just choose me.” His eyes pleaded with hers, but underneath the supplicating look was a bitterness that shone through, showing the façade for what it was.

  “I-I think I need to go home.”

  Sudden rage filled Damien’s features, and the air around him shimmered. Grace shuddered as he transformed in front of her, his clothes shredding as he grew several feet, sprouted wings, and turned scaly, never once letting go of her. She was in the arms of a demon. Possibly the devil himself. Suddenly everything Rafe had told her was true.

  Grace looked down and saw that they were floating above the decking. Enormous wings lazily flapping, holding it aloft, against an appropriate backdrop of storm clouds. A mixture of black scales, interspersed with red ones, covered the humanoid body, and the wingspan was larger than the length of a truck. But its eyes were what held Grace captive. They were red and scaly, like the rest of it. As she watched, it blinked, the lids shuttering closed sideways, and what looked like a smirk formed on its mouth before it rose in the night air.

  Panic clawed at her throat, as unable to move, Grace found herself in its clutches. She could feel the wind from the massive wings as they lifted her higher into the night sky, soaring above the city. She looked down at the island, watching it grow smaller as the demon soared higher. Finally, she screamed.

  She watched, helpless, as they left island behind, and the winged demon glided over the Gulf of Mexico, its night-blackened waters getting farther and farther below them.

  Grace had never been one for heights. She didn't fly in airplanes. She didn't bungee jump. She didn’t throw herself off tall cliffs. Now, looking down, Grace couldn't stop the screams ripping from her throat.

  Terror clutched her body, and she grabbed onto the clawed hands of her fiendish abductor with a death-grip, afraid it would let her go and she'd be dropped into the depths below. A low, rumbling chuckle sounded in her ear. She had to stop screaming to hear his words.

  "I told you I would get you, Grace. One way or another. I won't be denied this time."

  Her voice caught in her throat, but she managed to squeak out, "Why?"

  "Why you? Because you're good, and He wants you for Rafael, and what He wants, I want for myself. I was the one left to fend for myself. I can't help it if I've suffered, and I enjoy others' suffering. Now that my brothers are getting love,” the word dripped disdain, “I'm finally getting some revenge."

  She believed that. Her attention was captured by a vision in the distance. As she watched, the clouds parted, and an impossibly bright comet barreled toward them. It had wings, and a roar of thunder accompanied by flashes of lig
htning, heralded its approach. It came at them roaring, and Grace grabbed on even tighter to Damien’s arms, unsure of what was happening, preferring the evil she knew to the foreign thing coming at her.

  Then the green haze fell over her, and she heard the inhuman roar form words.

  "Let her go, Deceiver!"

  She recognized Rafael's voice, just as the storm broke, and sheets of rain pelted her skin. An ear-splitting peal of thunder crashed as the comet barreled into them. Grace was jolted by the collision, and a flash of lightening momentarily blinded her. A shining white arm reached for her, grabbing her by the waist. She felt disoriented. Surrounded by blackness all around, except for the shining white being clutching her fiercely, along with the demon, Grace couldn't tell which direction was up. Where was Rafe?

  The being that had come from the clouds was attacking Damien, and Grace took a chance. She let go of the demon, and reached for the blinding white. As she looked up to find its face, she found Rafe's eyes shining back at her. Groping, she was able to clasp onto his shoulder, aware that he was fighting the demon, while still clutching her waist.

  He pulled away with her, but the demon held on, hurting Grace. She was reminded of the underwater battle, and suddenly it all became clear. This was a battle between good and evil.

  Grace squirmed and kicked at the demon, while Rafe held her with one hand, holding his other hand up to the sky, uttering nonsense words that Grace didn't understand. In a flash of brilliant white light, a staff appeared in his hand, and she heard him roar more words in a language she didn't understand.

  Then the staff swung at the demon, and Grace flinched away from it. The demon loosened his grip in a dodge, away from the incoming blow, and Grace fell.

  A strange calm overcame Grace as the wind whipped across her body. She looked back up at the night sky as she fell, and saw the angel fighting the demon. A silhouette shining against the backdrop of a flash of lightning, and Grace could see Rafe swing his staff again. She slowly spun around in her fall, and saw the Gulf waters coming towards her.

  It was as if she were falling in slow motion, and she continued her spin, once again seeing Rafe and Damien, locked in a supreme battle of wills, Rafe's arm thrown back, ready to strike again, as she continued to turn. The waters rushing up, Grace could see an outcropping of some underwater debris that she idly wondered about, before realizing that she would probably never see Rafe again. It was ironic that she was preparing to die in the water, from a thousand foot free-fall, when she abhorred heights, and loved the water.

  She would miss Rafe. She would miss what could have happened with him. She would miss the frenetic love he could have shown her. The island's lights were nowhere to be seen. The demon had carried her out farther than she'd realized. She could see the schools of fish swimming under the water, and she closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

  Goodbye, Rafe.

  She screamed again as a strong grip caught her around the waist and halted her descent, carrying her parallel to the top of the water. Still in her surreal dream, she reached out her hand, and lazily trailed her fingers through the waves lapping under her.

  "Grace." Rafe's voice was in her ear, and it jolted her back to reality. He slowed, still holding her, and hovered above the water, allowing her to turn her body towards him. She clutched him with all her strength, burying her face in his hard chest. His massive feathered wings beat in a rhythm that thudded with her pounding heart, and he whispered shushing noises into her ear.

  "Shh...It's okay, Grace. I've got you."

  She kept her eyes squeezed shut, listening for sounds of battle from the demon, but all she could hear was the wind rustling through the feathers of Rafe's wings. She risked a look around.

  Nothing but the stars above and the gulf below.

  "Is he gone?" She whispered against his chest.

  "Yes."

  "Thank God." She mumbled.

  "Yes. You can." His voice was low, and Grace caught the irony in it. He began his flight again, turning them back toward the island.

  She pressed herself closer to him, unable to look around for fear of losing her senses. Everything was spinning wildly inside her head, but foremost in her mind was the fact that she was flying, something that usually terrified her. Grace tried to concentrate on his arms around her, the safe cocoon he enveloped her in, and not the fact that her feet dangled.

  Rafe's grip on her tightened, and she felt herself being lowered. She struggled frantically, clawing at his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his, to stay in his grip and not be dropped, but in her ear he said softly, "It's okay, Grace. We're home."

  She opened her eyes to see her hotel in front of her, and Rafe looked like, well, he looked like Rafe again.

  All green-eyed and gorgeous.

  "Come up to the room?" She asked him shyly.

  He looked at her, his intense eyes asking her questions his mouth didn't voice, and she was afraid to ask what he wondered.

  "Sure."

  She led the way, feeling out of sorts. She wasn't uncomfortable in his presence, but the evening's events had her mind reeling. In the elevator, she faced him.

  She could think of nothing to say, but the adrenaline was pumping through her veins now, and her senses were hyper-alert. She could see the pulse pound in the vein on his neck, as his eyes softened on hers. The elevator ride was silent, as Grace continued to study Rafe, and Rafe let her.

  In the hallway, he stopped her outside the room.

  "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

  Words continued to fail her, so she shook her head simply, before taking the steps to fold herself in his willing arms. There, huddled in Rafe's hug, she felt a sense of peace and comfort that she had never known with a man. Ever.

  "Rafe, I want to thank you. And apologize. I never should have gone to his house."

  He kissed the top of her head, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

  "Not necessary. I would have done it, even if you didn't want me to."

  "But…"

  "Shh. We'll talk about it tomorrow. After the girls have gone to work."

  She didn't bother asking him how he knew the girls were in the room. She just guessed that omniscience went with the archangelness.

  They let themselves into the room, and ignored the shocked gasps from Bree and Nicole, who were sitting on one of the beds watching TV.

  "Well, hello again. You back in the picture?" Nicole couldn't keep her curiosity at bay.

  "Hope so." Clinging to Grace’s hand, Rafe shrugged, and didn't offer any extra explanations, so Grace didn't either. She hadn't told the girls about his claims to being an archangel, nor did she intend to. She didn't need her friends locking her in a padded cell.

  They turned off the TV, as Grace fell onto the other bed. Rafe casually pulled off his shirt and jeans, and Bree gasped, but nobody said anything as he slipped under the covers next to Grace.

  Nicole broke the silence.

  "You guys aren't going to be fucking over there, are you?"

  Rafe let out a convenient snore, eliciting a giggle from Bree. "Um, I'm pretty sure that's not on the agenda." Grace assured her friends.

  Nicole snorted in response, and Grace snuggled down into Rafe's side. He continued his snoring, but his arm came around her as he turned toward her, pulling her in. She smiled to herself, wondering if he was faking sleep or not. She didn't wonder long, as his hand slowly began to stroke her stomach, his fingertips drawing lazy lines on her skin.

  Grace sighed softly, then fell into a dreamless slumber.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  When Grace woke up the next morning, it was to an almost empty room. She couldn't believe that Bree and Nicole had snuck out without waking her or Rafe. She rolled over, and saw Rafe sleeping next to her, and suddenly forgot to breathe.

  He was so damned beautiful.

  His hair was spread out on the pillow around him, his eyes closed so that his extended eyelashes were resting on his high cheekbone
s. His wide mouth was open slightly, and his breathing was soft. Then it caught. She imagined her fingertips in his hair, tracing his jawline, then running down his chest, below the sheet. She wondered how big he was, if his size compared to Brad's. Grace started breathing heavier, as she pictured herself on top of Rafe, riding him into oblivion.

  "Are you looking at me?" His voice was husky with sleep, and it sent a tremble coursing through Grace's body.

  "Yeah." Her voice didn't sound like her own. She attributed it to watching him sleep, thinking lurid thoughts about having her way with his body.

  "You can, you know."

  "What?"

  "Have your way with my body. Looks like fun." His eyes cracked open, green irises gazing at her, as she blushed clear to her toes.

  "So you are inside my head."

  "Sorry about that. Not easy to control when I'm sleeping." He sat up, leaning back on the headboard with his fingers laced behind his head. "Those thoughts of yours, though. Tsk, tsk."

  She blushed again, swinging her legs around off the bed. She had slept in her dress from the night before. Her fuck-me-hard dress that she'd worn for Damien.

  Remembering Damien, and last night, she lost all traces of amorousness toward Rafe. "What in the hell happened last night? What was all that?"

  "Let's get dressed and go get some breakfast somewhere. I think I'm starved. We can talk while we eat."

  "You think you're starved?"

  "Hunger's new to me. I'll tell you everything over breakfast. I promise. All of your questions will be answered." Grace swallowed the saliva that pooled in her mouth when she saw his back as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. She had no idea back muscles could be so damn sexy.

  "Okay."

  They took turns in the shower, before getting dressed and walking to a breakfast place next door to the hotel. Grace's brain was swimming with questions to ask him, but as they sat down, he waved over the waitress and said, "I would like two of the biggest breakfasts you have, please." He looked to Grace and said, "For you?"