“Survival schmival. It wasn’t fun anymore.” A lie. Things had just started to heat up the way she’d wanted. But how could she have known that would scare her so badly?
“Good going, by the way. Allowing yourself to be taken into the clouds where I couldn’t get to you. Brilliant.”
“I know, right?”
“So was it terrible? Being spirited away by a sexy angel?”
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and pictured Lysander’s glorious face. The desire he’d leveled at her while she’d sucked him dry had been miraculous. You don’t want to talk about him, remember? “Yes. It was terrible.” Terribly wonderful.
“You bringing him to Buda for the wedding?”
The words were sneered, clearly a joke, but Bianka found herself shouting, “No!” before she could stop herself. A Harpy dating an angel? Unacceptable!
And anyway, allowing the demon-possessed Lords of the Underworld to surround a warrior straight from heaven would be stupid. Not that she feared for Lysander. Guy could handle himself, no problem. The way he formed a sword of fire from nothing but air was proof of that. But if something were to happen to Gwennie’s precious Sabin, like, oh, decapitation, the festivities would be somewhat dimmed.
“I’ll be there, though,” she added in a calmer tone. “I kinda have to, you know. Since I’m the maid of honor and all.”
“Oh, hell, no. I am, remember?”
She grinned slowly. “You told me you’d rather be hit by a bus than be a bridesmaid.”
“Yeah, but I want to have a bigger part than you, so…here I am, in Budapest, helping little Gwennie plan the ceremony. Not that she’s taking my suggestions. Would it kill her to at least consider making everyone come naked?”
They shared a laugh.
“Well, you and I can attend naked,” Bianka said. “It’ll certainly liven things up.”
“Done!”
There was a pause.
Kaia pushed out a breath. “So you’re fine?” she asked, a twinge of concern finally appearing in her voice.
“Yeah.” And she was. Or would be. Soon, she hoped. All she had to do was figure out what to do about Lysander. Not that he’d tried to stick around, the jerk. He hadn’t been able to get away from her fast enough. Sure, she’d pushed him away. But dude could have fought for her attention after what she’d done for him.
“You’re gonna make the angel pay for taking you without permission, right? Who am I kidding? Of course you are. If you wait till after the wedding, I can help. Please, please let me help. I have a few ideas and I think you’ll like them. Picture this. It’s midnight, your angel is strapped to your bed, and we each rip off one of his wings.”
Nice. But because she didn’t know whether Lysander was watching and listening or not—was he? It was possible, and just the thought had her skin heating—she said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m done with him.”
“Wait, what?” Kaia gasped out. “You can’t be done with him. He abducted you. Held you prisoner. Yeah, he oil-wrestled Paris and I’m pissed I didn’t get to see, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. If you let him off without punishment, he’ll think it’s okay. He’ll think you’re weak. He’ll come after you again.”
Yes. Yes, he would, she thought, suddenly trying not to grin. “No, he won’t,” she lied. Are you listening, Lysander, baby?
“Bianka, tell me you don’t like him. Tell me you aren’t lusting for an angel.”
Abruptly her smile faded. This was exactly the line of questioning she’d hoped to avoid. “I’m not lusting for an angel.” Another lie.
Another pause. “I don’t believe you.”
“Too bad.”
“Mom thought Gwen’s dad was an angel and she regretted sleeping with him all these years. They’re too good. Too…different from us. Angels and Harpies are not meant to mix. Tell me you know that.”
“Of course I know it. Now, I’ve gotta go. Tell the bridezilla to go easy on you. Love you and see you soon,” she replied and hung up before Kaia could say anything else.
Despite her fear of what Lysander made her feel, Bianka wasn’t done with him. Not even close. But she’d been on his turf before and therefore at a disadvantage. If he wasn’t here, she needed to get him here. Willingly.
She’d told him to leave her alone, she thought, and that could be a problem. Except…
With a whoop, she jumped up and spun around. That wouldn’t be a problem at all. That was actually a blessing and she was smarter than she’d realized. By telling him to stay away from her, she’d surely become the forbidden fruit. Of course he was here, watching her.
Men never could do what they were told. Not even angels.
So. Easy.
Even better, she’d given him a little taste of what it was like to be with her. He would crave more. But also, she hadn’t allowed him to pleasure her. His pride would not allow her to remain in this unsatisfied state for long, while he had enjoyed such sweet completion.
And if that wasn’t the case, he wasn’t the virile warrior she thought he was and he therefore wouldn’t deserve her.
How long till he made an actual appearance? They’d only been apart half a day, but she already missed him.
Missed him. Ugh. She’d never missed a man before. Especially one who wanted to change her. One who despised what she was. One who could only be labeled enemy.
You have to avoid him. You want to sleep in his arms. You were protective of him while he fought Paris. He angered you but you didn’t kill him. And now you’re missing him? You know what this means, don’t you?
Her eyes widened, and her excitement drained. Oh, gods. She should have realized…should at least have suspected. Especially when she’d protected him, defended him.
Lysander, a goody-goody angel, was her consort.
Her knees gave out and she flopped onto the floor. As long as she’d been alive, she’d never thought to find one. Because, well, a consort was a meant-to-be husband. Some nights she’d dreamed of finding hers, yes, but she hadn’t thought it would actually happen.
Her consort. Wow.
Her family was going to flip. Not because Lysander had abducted her—they’d come to respect that—but because of what he was. More than that, she didn’t trust Lysander, would never trust him, and so could never do any actual sleeping with him.
Sex, though, she could allow. Often. Yes, yes, she could make this work, she thought, brightening. She could lure him to the dark side without letting her family know she was spending time with him. Humiliation averted!
Decided, she nodded. Lysander would be hers. In secret. And there was no better time to begin. If he was watching as she suspected, there was only one way to get him to reveal himself.
She dressed in a lacy red halter and her favorite skinny jeans and drove into town. Only reason she owned a car was because it made her appear more human. Flying kind of gave her away. Though her arms and navel were exposed, the frigid wind didn’t bother her. Chilled her, yes, but that she could deal with. She wanted Lysander to see as much of her as possible.
She parked in front of The Moose Lodge, a local diner, and strode to the front door. Because it was so early and so cold, no one was nearby. A few streetlamps illuminated her, but she wasn’t worried. She unlocked the door—she’d stolen the key from the owner months ago—and disabled the alarm.
Inside, she claimed a pecan pie from the glassed refrigerator, grabbed a fork and dug in while walking to her favorite booth. She’d done this a thousand times before.
Come out, come out, wherever you are. He wouldn’t have just left her to her evil ways without thinking to protect the world from her. Right? She wished she could feel him, at least sense him in some way. His scent perhaps, that wild, night sky scent. But as she breathed deeply, she smelled only pecans and sugar. Still. She hadn’t sensed him when he’d snatched her from mid-free fall, so it stood to reason she wouldn’t sense him now.
Once the pie was polished off, the pan dis
carded and her fork licked clean, she filled a cup with Dr. Pepper. She placed a few quarters in the old jukebox and soon an erratic beat was echoing from the walls. Bianka danced around one of the tables, thrusting her hips forward and back, arching, sliding around, hands roving over her entire body.
For a moment, only a brief, sultry moment, she thought she felt hot hands replace her own, exploring her breasts, her stomach. Thought she felt soft feathered wings envelop her, closing her in. She stilled, heart drumming in her chest. So badly she wanted to say his name, but she didn’t want to scare him away. So…what should she do? How should she—
The feeling of being surrounded evaporated completely.
Damn him!
Teeth grinding, not knowing what else to do, she exited the diner the same way she’d entered. Through the front door, as if she hadn’t a care. That door slammed behind her, the force of it nearly shaking the walls.
“You should lock up after yourself.”
He was here; he’d been watching. She’d known it! Trying not to grin, she spun around to face Lysander. The sight of him stole her breath. He was as beautiful as she remembered. His pale hair whipped in the wind, little snow crystals flying around him. His golden wings were extended and glowing. But his dark eyes were not blank, as when she’d first met him. They were as turbulent as an ocean—just as they’d been when she’d left him.
“I thought I told you to stay away from me,” she said, doing her best to sound angry rather than aroused.
He frowned. “And I told you to behave. Yet here you are, full of stolen pie.”
“What do you want me to do? Return it?”
“Don’t be crass. I want you to pay for it.”
“Moment I do, I’ll start to vomit.” She crossed her arms over her middle. Close the distance. Kiss me. “That would ruin my lipstick, so I have to decline.”
He, too, crossed his arms over his middle. “You can also earn your food.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
A moment passed in silence. Then, “Do you have no morals?” he gritted out.
“No.” No sexual boundaries, either. So freaking kiss me already! “I don’t.”
He popped his jaw in frustration and disappeared.
Bianka’s arms dropped to her sides and she gazed around in astonishment. He’d left? Left? Without touching her? Without kissing her? Bastard! She stomped to her car.
LYSANDER WATCHED AS Bianka drove away. He was hard as a rock, had been that way since she’d paraded around her cabin naked, had lingered in a bubble bath and then changed into that wicked shirt. His shaft was desperate for her.
Why couldn’t she be an angel? Why couldn’t she abhor sin? Why did she have to embrace it?
And why was the fact that she did these things—steal, curse, lie—still exciting him?
Because that was the way of things, he supposed, and had been since the beginning of time. Temptation seeped past your defenses, changed you, made you long for things you shouldn’t.
There had to be a way to end this madness. He couldn’t destroy her, he’d already proven that. But what if he could change her? He hadn’t truly tried before, so it could work. And if she embraced his way of life, they could be together. He could have her. Have more of her kisses, touch more of her body.
Yes, he thought. Yes. He would help her become a woman he could be proud to walk beside. A woman he could happily claim as his own. A woman who would not be his downfall.
CHAPTER NINE
AS LYSANDER HAD NEVER had a…girlfriend, as the humans would say, he had no idea how to train one. He knew only how to train his soldiers. Without emotion, maintaining distance and taking nothing personally. His soldiers, however, wanted to learn. They were eager, his every word welcomed. Bianka would resist him at every turn. That much he knew.
So. The first day, he followed her, simply observing. Planning.
She, of course, stole every meal, even snacks, drank too much at a bar, danced too closely with a man she obviously did not know, then broke that man’s nose when he cupped her bottom. Lysander wanted to do damage of his own, but restrained himself. Barely. At bedtime, Bianka merely paced the confines of her cabin, cursing his name. Not for a minute did she rest.
How lovely she was, dark hair streaming down her back. Red lips pursed. Skin glowing like a rainbow in the moonlight. So badly he wanted to touch her, to surround her with his wings, making them the only two people alive, and simply enjoy her.
Soon, he promised himself.
She’d given him release, yet he had not done the same for her. The more he thought about that—and think about it he did, all the time—the more that did not sit well with him. The more he thought about it, in fact, the more embarrassed he was.
He didn’t know how to touch her to bring her release, but he was willing to try, to learn. First, though, he had to train her as planned. How, though? he wondered again. She seemed to respond well to his kisses—his chest puffed up with pride at that. He’d never rewarded his soldiers for a job well done, but perhaps he could do so for Bianka. Reward her with a kiss every time she pleased him.
A failproof plan. He hoped.
The second day, he was practically humming with anticipation. When she entered a clothing store and stuffed a beaded scarf into her purse, he materialized in front of her, ready to begin.
She stilled, gaze lifting and meeting his. Rather than bow her head in contrition, she grinned. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Put that back,” he told her. “You do not need to steal clothing to survive.”
She crossed her arms over her middle, a stubborn stance he knew well. “Yeah, but it’s fun.”
A human woman who stood off to the side eyed Bianka strangely. “Uh, can I help you?”
Bianka never looked away from him. “Nope. I’m fine.”
“She cannot see me,” Lysander told her. “Only you can.”
“So I look insane for talking with you?”
He nodded.
She laughed, surprising him. And even though her amusement was misplaced, he loved the sound of her laughter. It was magical, like the strum of a harp. He loved the way her mirth softened her expression and lit her magnificent skin.
Have to touch her, he thought, suddenly dazed. He took a step closer, intending to do just that. Have to experience that softness again. And in doing so, she could begin to know the delights of his rewards.
She gulped. “Wh-what are you—”
“Are you sure I can’t help you?” the woman asked, cutting her off.
Bianka remained in place, trembling, but tossed her a glare. “I’m sure. Now shut it before I sew your lips together.”
The woman backed away, spun and raced to help someone else.
Lysander froze.
“You may continue,” Bianka said to him.
How could he reward her for such rudeness? That would defeat the purpose of her training. “Do you not care what people think of you?” he asked, head tilting to the side.
Her eyes narrowed, and she stopped trembling. “No. Why should I? In a few years, these people will be dead but I’ll still be alive and kicking.” As she spoke, she stuffed another scarf in her purse.
Now she was simply taunting him. “Put it back, and I’ll give you a kiss,” he gritted out.
“Wh-what?”
Stuttering again. He was affecting her. “You heard me.” He would not repeat the words. Having said them, all he wanted to do was mesh their lips together, thrust his tongue into her mouth and taste her. Hear her moan. Feel her clutch at him.
“You would willingly kiss me?” she rasped.
Willingly. Desperately. He nodded.
She licked her lips, leaving a sheen of moisture behind. The sight of that pink tongue sent blood rushing into his shaft. His hands clenched at his sides. Anything to keep from grabbing her and jerking her against him.
“I—I—” She shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts. Her eyes narrowed again, th
ose long, dark lashes fusing together. “Why would you do that? You, who have tried to resist me at every turn?”
“Because.”
“Why?”
“Just put the scarves back.” So the kissing can begin.
She arched a brow. “Are you trying to bribe me? Because you should know, that won’t work with me.”
Rather than answer—and lie—he remained silent, chin jutting in the air. Blood…heating.
Still watching him, she reached out, palmed a belt and stuffed it in her purse, as well. “So what do you plan to do to me if I keep stealing? Give me a severe tongue-lashing? Too bad. I don’t accept.”
Fire slid the length of his spine even as his anger spiked. He closed the distance until the warmth of her breath was fanning over his neck and chest. “You could not get enough of me in the heavens, yet now that you are here, you want nothing to do with me. Tell me. Was your every word and action up there a lie?”
“Of course my every word and action was a lie. That’s what I do. I thought you knew that.”
So…did she desire him or not? Two days ago she’d told her sister, Kaia, that she wanted nothing to do with him. At the time, he’d thought she was merely saying that for Kaia’s benefit. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“You could be lying now,” he said. At least, that’s what he hoped. And who would have thought he’d ever wish for a lie?
Excitement sparked in her eyes and spread to the rest of her features. She patted his cheek, then flattened her palm on his chest. “You’re learning, angel.”
He sucked in a breath. So hot. So soft.
“Here’s a proposition for you. Steal something from this store and I’ll kiss you.”
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