His eyes fluttered open.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Hadn’t he said angels never slept?
“No, I was simply trying to help you relax. You tossed and turned.”
Then why did he look so guilty? So relaxed himself? Not that she wanted to complain. Far from it.
When he shifted upward, she grabbed his shirt. “No, stay with me.”
“Alice.” He said her name like an apology.
“Please.” Their time couldn’t be over yet. She wouldn’t let it. Nestling against him, she braced, expecting him to push her away.
Instead, he heaved a breath and wound his arms tighter. His lips pressed against her head, and moved as he spoke in some strange language.
Utter bliss enfolded her. “Luke.” Lifting her head, she reached her mouth for his.
With a strangled groan, he tilted away, exposing his neck.
Aching for any bit of him, she trailed her mouth along its length. “I need you.”
His moan died in his throat. “Don’t.” His hand trembled at her cheek.
Not a refusal. In a silent plea, she touched her mouth to his jaw, tracing it to his ear. “You found me for a reason.” Fate must have worked its magic. Maybe even divine intervention.
Cradling her head, he leaned his forehead against hers. “You know why I’m here.”
“It had to be more than that. You said so yourself. They could have sent anyone else. But they sent you.” No such thing as coincidence, especially not where he came from.
Tenderly, he held his cheek to hers. “Alice. I have to go. Soon.”
“I’m going with you then.” Maybe her threat would be enough to hold him here.
He jerked back. “What? No.”
“I won’t let you leave.” As if she had any power. But she must, if she’d wished him here.
“I cannot stay. My task is finished.”
Hadn’t she also wished for love? For the one who’d love her forever to appear? A sob garbled her argument.
“Shh. I can’t bear for you to cry.” He kissed each tear away.
The touch of his lips against her skin tantalized her beyond sanity. She wound her fingers through his hair and trickled them down his face, finding his cheek wet. Confused, she pulled back. His blond lashes matted, a tear escaped down his face.
Crying? Stunned, she struggled to comprehend the meaning.
Heat blazed in his eyes, a blue fire. In an instant, his mouth found hers in a sweet and wild abandon. She gave herself over to it with every fiber of her being. Craving more, she hooked her leg behind his and rolled him atop her, his weight delicious, his hands everywhere, as hungry for her as she was for him.
He ground out, “I can’t.” In a blink, he stood near the Christmas tree.
Did he mean physically, he couldn’t? “That doesn’t matter.”
His brows furrowed. “What doesn’t?”
“If you’re…unable to.” She glanced at his groin. “You know, perform.”
His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that. I’m not impotent.”
Relief washed over her, but quickly ebbed. “Then what’s wrong?”
*~*~*
Where to begin? Luke’s very existence felt wrong. He stood as immobile beside the tree as the Christmas angel had been atop it.
She asked, “You haven’t reported the job finished because you don’t want to go, do you?”
He affected a stern look. “Nonsense.” He’d merely forgotten. Been engrossed in playing the piano. Then he’d slipped beside her to help her sleep. Wasn’t that why they sent him? To help?
“Then why are you still here?” she gently prodded.
“Maybe I’m bored there.” The understatement of all eternity, but only he knew it wasn’t the reason he remained here.
Barefoot, she padded toward him. “They don’t recognize your full potential.”
“Not even close.” He could be an archangel, had he any inclination.
“But you really don’t want them to. It would obligate you to more.”
He chuckled. “You need help with your passive aggressive tendencies.”
Her gaze penetrated him to the core. “I’m not the one who’s sabotaging myself.”
Did she give him no credit? He blustered, “You finished your project andyou’re your obligations because of me, thank you very much.”
She studied him. “We’re more alike than you care to admit.”
Right again. He wouldn’t admit it. “Everyone shares basic common traits.”
She spoke in a clear, steady voice. “Luke, I love you.”
“No.” She couldn’t, she didn’t know him. Not the real him. The moody musician, the boring man.
Confidence shone through in her stance. “I want to be with you. If you can’t stay with me, I’ll go with you.”
“Impossible.” She had no idea what it would mean.
Hope infused her voice. “Not if you want it too. A wise man once told me, everything’s within the realm of possibility.”
“Don’t use my words against me. You’ve no idea what you’re asking.” Why hadn’t he read the Ground Rules? Rule number one aside, what did it say about such situations? Surely he couldn’t be the first to find himself smitten with a human woman.
Her breath fluttered against his chest. “Tell me you don’t have feelings for me, and I won’t ask again.”
He laughed without humor. “You’ve provoked a wide range of feelings from the first moment we met.”
Blue eyes probing, she prompted, “Such as?”
If she wanted him to articulate them, he’d accommodate her. “You infuriate me. You’re selfish and small-minded.”
“Go on.”
If she insisted. “You squander your talents instead of perfecting them.” She had such potential. Why couldn’t she see it?
Standing perfectly still, she neither agreed or argued, but made herself a blank slate for him to explore. Oh, how he wanted to explore.
“You demean yourself when you should exalt. You’re beautiful, intelligent, witty and talented. Don’t you know how rare that combination is? Value yourself as the treasure you are.” Certainly, some lucky man would too.
“I will if you will.”
Agony crushed his chest. “Call your agent. Tell her you’ve finished.”
Her sharp breath, as if he’d slapped her, made him wish he could take back his words.
“Is that what you really want?” she asked.
“Yes.” She knew as well as he did that wishing never brought anything useful, only more heartache.
To seal their fates, he bowed his head and swept his hand through the air. Digital clocks blinked from Alice’s oven and the microwave above it. Outside, the vaguest whir signaled others had awakened from their long sleep.
Alice stepped toward him. “Did you just…”
Unable to look at her, he nodded. It was Christmas Day. And soon, it would all be over.
*~*~*
Alice’s finger trembled as she pressed Penny’s number on her cell and then delivered the news.
“So soon?” Penny asked. “That’s fantastic. You must have worked all night. Are you sure they’re… finished?”
So subtle. Her agent doubted how good an illustration could be produced so quickly. “Believe me, I worked a long time on these.” The longest night of her life. The most wonderful, horrible night. “You’ll love them.”
Doubt tainted her agent’s tone. “I can’t wait to see them. Take some digitals and text them to me.”
“I will,” Alice promised.
“Right now. Don’t wait till morning.”
She’d forgotten. Morning hadn’t fully arrived. “Now?” Fear wound through her. It really would end. Too soon.
“Yes,” Penny said. “I can’t wait.”
Resigning herself to it, Alice agreed, and carried out the task with the enthusiasm of a woman walking to the gallows. Within minutes, her phone rang. Her agent’s number showed in the display.
No use arguing that none of that mattered now. That Alice loved Luke. She picked up the phone. Even Penny’s squeals couldn’t penetrate the fog closing in. She found herself agreeing to dinner at Penny’s with Michael, where they’d reveal the sketches. Tonight.
Luke stood at her window, looking out at the snowfall. “Another dinner.”
Of course he’d known already. “I have to get dressed.”
His smile appeared grim. “Yes.”
Damn him. He wouldn’t ask her not to go. She walked over to the easel and stared at the sketches. What if she destroyed them? Would Luke have to stay until she finished another set?
“No,” he said from behind her.
She turned. “‘No’ what?”
Despite his usual glow, the somberness of his expression gave him a human appearance. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m due back tonight.” He spoke with the dullness of a man facing the death penalty.
“I see.” But she didn’t, not at all. Nothing was inevitable. She had to make him see that. Believe in possibility.
So she’d stall him as long as she could.
In the upstairs bathroom, she spent extra time on her makeup and hair. If he saw her at her best, he might see that other things could improve as well. Sometimes all it took was a nudge, a new perspective.
From downstairs, Luke called, “Ready yet?”
“I’m coming.” Slipping out of her shoes, she unzipped her dress and walked downstairs, pretending to reach for the zipper. “Would you mind? I can never get this myself.”
Luke’s eyes widened, taking her in. “No problem.”
Lifting her hair, she bared her back to him. How about now?
Slowly, he ran the zipper closed.
When she turned to thank him, his blue eyes blazed.
He stood rigid. “We should go.” He lurched away.
Her insides twisted. She couldn’t force him to stay any more than she could force him to love her. Reluctantly, she gathered her shoes and coat. “I’m ready.”
“You look”—He gulped—“nice.”
Restraining her sarcasm, she grabbed her coat and the portfolio containing all her illustrations. “Thanks.” Would it kill him to be nice?
The next moment, they stood on the roof. He climbed on the bike and cast a skeptical glance at her dress. “Can you manage?”
“I’ll ride sidesaddle.” If she fell off, then she could be an angel too. He did say he didn’t go in for dramatic rescues. But would he really let her fall?
She scanned the frozen landscape not too far below. Why ride so low this time? They arrived faster than usual at Penny’s house, she hesitated on the walkway.
“Did you forget something?” he asked.
Yes, her common sense. What was she doing here? “I don’t want to go in.” Please ask me to stay.
“Why not? This is the culmination of everything we’ve worked toward.”
Had she imagined it, or did he sound a little breathless? “Maybe you. Not me.” Hope may have begun to take root and he’d dismissed it, but she wouldn’t let him dismiss her so easily.
He stiffened. “I don’t follow.”
The hell he didn’t. If not, she’d enlighten him. “This has been the most amazing day of my life. I don’t want it to end.”
His features sharpened, and he stared down at nothing. “You’ll have other amazing days. Days to create your art, do what makes you happy.”
Did he really not understand? Or simply refused to? “But you won’t be there.”
He looked off into the distance. Pointedly ignoring her. Or trying to.
She had to convince him. Now. “If you’re going to leave because I’m done my sketches, then I don’t want to ever finish.”
Glaring, he glanced ahead, everywhere but at her. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
His low voice grated her nerves to life. She’d gotten to him. Maybe she had a chance. “I know exactly what I’m saying, Luke. I want you to stay with me.”
He hung his head. “You don’t mean it. It’s impossible.”
“Everything’s possible. Today’s Christmas.” A day for miracles. If all her wishes could combine into one miracle, this would be it.
*~*~*
The torture of it all. Damn Peter for sending him on this assignment. Finally, Luke let himself look at Alice, though it tore his heart in two to see her sadness.
“You know as well as I that I don’t belong here.” Nor did he belong anywhere, it seemed. He’d muddled his only lifetime, and worse than bungled his afterlife. If he ruined her life as well, he wouldn’t be able to bear the guilt.
She stepped closer. “You could. If only you wanted to. If only you’d believe with as much force as me. With every fiber of your being.”
Why did she have to look at him with such hope shining in her beautiful face? “No I couldn’t.” Couldn’t tell her that he already did believe. That the force of his belief overpowered him, made him forget what little good sense he had.
Her lip quivered. “You mean, you don’t want to.”
“That’s not at all what I mean.”
“Then tell me. What do you want, Luke?” Tears rimmed her eyes.
If this were another time or circumstance, he’d take her in his arms. Tell her how she’d come to mean the world to him. To hell with the obstacles they’d face; he’d never let her go.
But her world was not his world. He could only visit here. He couldn’t lead her on, torture her with a future that could never happen. “It doesn’t matter. It isn’t possible.” The most abhorrent part about the afterlife—others directed his actions, controlled his very existence. Already, he felt the tug from beyond. The call to go back. He never despised Peter more.
She raised her chin. “I won’t believe that.”
“Why? Because you’ve got some notion in your head about how wonderful it would be for me to stay here? Do you have any idea what it is you’re asking?” He didn’t even know for sure. He should have read the damn Ground Rules. Maybe some passage, some footnote, might have been useful in guiding him through this complicated situation.
Through her tears, she smiled. “Of course. Don’t you know how many times I’ve imagined it?”
“But how have you imagined it? With me like this?” He searched her face as she struggled to comprehend.
“With you, yes.”
“No, I meant with me as an angel?” Of course as a heavenly immortal. She knew him in no other form.
Her face softened. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. I want to be with you.”
“I wouldn’t be the same. I wouldn’t be the shining example of Watcher angel you see before you.” She had no idea what sort of human he was. What sort of man. He could barely remember himself.
Hope flickered in her eyes. “I know.”
Oh, Alice. If temptation ever flirted with him, it was now. He wanted to smooth away her palpable sorrow, release her from the pain. But giving in to the urge to hold her, kiss her, would only result in greater heartache for them both.
He had to make her understand. “No, you don’t know. Look at me, Alice. Tell me what you see.”
Her gaze reached deep inside him, all the way to his heart, and as she smiled, a tendril of her being warmed him. “I see you, Luke.”
Did she? Did she really see his soul? His true self? “No. You see Luke, recently promoted to Watcher Angel. You see the most perfect form of myself I could ever hope to be.” Perfect? With his poor performance, she could hardly have gotten that impression. But maybe that was the heart of it—that even at his most perfect, he was utterly flawed.
Peering at him, her brows furrowed, and a small light of recognition sharpened her gaze.
So, she’d realized, finally. “I see you understand now.”
She grasped his sleeve. “No. No one’s perfect. I’m not. I wouldn’t expect you to be.”
His last life had been one disaster
after another. He didn’t know if he could risk more heartbreak. “But are you prepared for how imperfect a man I might be? Could you live with me like that?” He couldn’t keep the desperation from his voice.
The tiniest shake of her head as she stared, mouth agape, was all it took for him to conclude she couldn’t.
“Right. I didn’t think so.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he strode away.
“Luke, stop. You can’t leave.”
His limbs might have been weighted with marble as he started the engine. Every year of his true age accumulated on his frame, and all two hundred forty eight weighed heavily on him. Oh, for the sweet rest of the grave. Where was eternal peace when he needed it most?
He dredged deep for enough self-control to say, “Goodbye, Alice.” Numb, he drove off, aiming upward.
*~*~*
“Luke!” Alice called, but the motorcycle disappeared into the clouds. Swiping a tear from her cheek, she clenched her jaw. It’s useless. Why perpetuate this fantasy? She couldn’t keep him here. Some things would remain beyond her control, no matter how much she wished.
“No. No more wishing.” Enough girlish foolishness. From now on, she’d rely on what she knew. What she could achieve on her own.
Straightening her coat, she trudged to the door, and mustered a smile when her agent opened up.
“Brr.” Penny rubbed her arms. “Come in here, you must be freezing.”
“I’m fine.” Though she found herself shivering. The freezing night air had finally penetrated her senses. Whirling, she gasped. If she felt the cold again, that meant Luke was truly gone.
“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.
Stifling a sob, Alice clutched her portfolio. “I’m nervous, I guess.”
Penny closed the door and ushered her inside. “You have no need to be. Those drawings are magnificent. Michael will adore them. And you. He already does, you know.”
She hoped not. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“It’s true, Alice. I don’t know what you said or did over the holidays, but he’s a changed man.” Penny snorted. “Sooo much better that some people have compared it to Scrooge’s transformation from bitter old man to cheerful, caring soul.”
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