ANGEL'S KISS (A Dark Angel's Novel)

by Lynne Stevie

  ANGEL’S KISS

  by

  LYNNE STEVIE

  ANGEL’S KISS

  by Lynne Stevie

  Edited by Kay Keppler

  Cover Art by Jeffrey Kosh

  Copyright © 2012 by Lynne Stevie

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  To SophiaNever lose your imagination!

  Acknowledgements

  A HUGE thank you goes to my friend and mentor Best Selling Author Traci Hohenstein. You read my one page, single spaced dream scene and said, “WOW, I like this, keep writing.” I still have that one page and that one scene grew into this novel Angel’s Kiss. Thank you for not letting me quit and for helping me be a better writer, editor, and PR person.

  A special thanks to my first readers Shane Frampton and Laurel Abbe. I am grateful that you liked it even in its messy stages and I hope you like the polished version even more. A big shout out to Kay Keppler for being a wonderful editor and for helping me corral my ideas. Any mistakes in this book are not her fault, but mine, because I didn’t listen to her.

  And an extra special thank you to my wonderful husband and family who never said, “You can’t write a book”. Your encouragement helped me through the late nights and early morning writing sessions. I love you all!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TITLE

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ANGEL’S KISS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  BIOGRAPHY

  ANGEL’S KISS

  Chapter 1

  Carried Away

  I watched my prey in the mirrored wall behind the bar, hoping I wouldn’t be recognized. My disguise was good, but in our small Gulf-side resort town, everyone knows each other. Plus, as a descendant of the founding family of Serevan my family and name, Alexandria Hayes-Lewis, are well known. The last thing I needed was for a friend or a business acquaintance to recognize me and start asking questions about why I was out alone tonight. This was my last chance to catch this cheating bastard and I didn’t want anything to screw it up.

  The man in my sights, Philip Janeck, had just finished dinner. While watching him tonight, I had to admit our client Mrs. Palma Janeck had a good eye for man candy. Tall, dark, and handsome, oh my! He was over six feet tall with a chiseled jaw and dark wavy hair that looked so silky even I wanted to run my fingers through it.

  My bar stool was close enough to Janeck’s table that I could hear bits and pieces of the conversation he and his friend were having. I caught phrases like “Big Ten” and “SEC.” I had to work hard not to yawn as they bantered. As boring as I found their conversation, I noted that Janeck sounded reasonably intelligent, which worried me. I hoped he hadn’t figured out I was bait.

  Frustrated he hadn’t hit on me yet, I twirled the rich, buttery wine in the delicate crystal glass that was in front of me. When I noticed him sit back in his seat, I adjusted my position on the bar stool. I moved to keep him in view, but also to make my skirt rise and show off the lace at the top of my thigh-high hose. I needed to get his attention if this evening was going to be a success.

  “Can I get you anything else?” The bartender startled me with his deep voice.

  “Oh. No thanks. Just the check, please.” And get out of my way, I thought as I smiled up at him. He’d parked himself right in my line of sight.

  “I hope your friend’s okay.” The bartender said as he motioned to the empty seat beside me. It took me a minute to remember I’d told him I was waiting for someone in order to keep the seat open.

  “Thanks, he’s fine. I just got a text,” I touched my Blackberry on the bar. “Something came up, we’re meeting later.” My target’s head popped up. Where was he going? If he was leaving, I was screwed. I leaned in a little to get a better view.

  “It’s a crime that he left you sitting all alone,” the bartender continued.

  Crap, I’m attracting the wrong man. Now that I thought about it, he’d asked several times about my friend. I thought he just wanted the seat for a paying customer, but I knew he wasn’t concerned about the customers right now.

  “I was going to head home, but I hate to see you drinking alone.” The bartender was leaning over the bar now, too, and I could smell his cologne. Over his shoulder I saw my target turn toward the restrooms. So he wasn’t leaving yet. “Would you like some company tonight? I’m off in…”

  “Excuse me.” I cut him off as I slid down from my stool and headed toward the restrooms. I needed to get in front of Philip and get his attention. I’d been trying to hook this bastard for a week. He wasn’t going to slip through my fingers again.

  I caught him as he was leaving the men’s room. I pretended to stumble over my own feet, and grabbed his arm for support.

  “Whoa,” he said. I must have surprised him, but he stood firm as I barreled into him.

  “Oh, I’m soo sorry.” I righted myself, but I didn’t let go of his arm. “Thanks for catching me.” I looked up at him using my best doe-eyed look. “I guess I shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine, he, he, he.” Ugh, that sounded pathetic even to me.

  “I’m glad to be of service. Are you all right?” He placed his other hand on top of mine, and I noticed a spark of interest in his eye. Sweet, now we’re getting somewhere.

  “I could be…better?” I looked up into his brown eyes and licked my dark burgundy lips.

  “Hmm,” he leaned over to whisper in my ear, “you have no idea how much I’d love to help you feel better...right now.” Heat flooded my system and if I didn’t know better, I’d say I was drunk. “However,” he looked back at his friend, “another time perhaps?” My head felt fuzzy and little prickles of goose flesh were breaking out all over my body. He straightened up and pressed his hand down where it held mine on his arm. Then he turned and walked back toward his table.

  I stumbled into the ladies room to recoup. Well, that went totally wrong. I’d been in control until he whispered in my ear. What the hell happened?

  I looked in the mirror and my face was beet red. Blushing, are you kidding me? I fanned my face, trying to cool off. Shaking myself in a vain attempt to clear my head, I hurried out. My target was leaving as I took my seat. He caught my gaze in the mirror and I quickly looked away.

  “Wha, ha, ha.” His laugh floated through the room and I felt the flame of my blush all the way to my toes. I sa
t stupefied as he walked out of the restaurant.

  When the door clicked shut, I picked up my phone from the bar and pressed J. As I waited, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks were still red, and I was biting my lip while my nails tapped out chopsticks on the bar. I was acting like a school girl with her first crush.

  That’s enough. I sat up straight and pulled my fingers into a fist. Time I got back to acting like a professional.

  “Yeah, boss,” Joey answered.

  “Sorry, you won’t need your camera tonight.” I didn’t let Joey get in a response. “Can you follow? Riley’s waiting at the house to take over once he gets there.”

  “Yeah, I’m on it.” I heard his car start. “What happened?”

  “Nothing, just…” I noticed the bartender watching me. “Thanks honey.” I raised my voice a little. “I’ll tell you about it later. Okay?”

  “Got it.” The line went dead.

  “Thanks.” I motioned to the bartender without making eye contact. With my thoughts swimming as I pulled out some cash, left it on the bar and made my way to the door. The host opened the door and the warm night air surrounded me, taking my breath as I stepped out into the empty strip mall parking lot. The beginning of October and still there was no relief from the southern heat. I spotted my car, but I also caught sight of the open sign at Miss Lucy’s Gossip Parlor. Maybe a cup of coffee would clear my head.

  “Lexie!” Decaf-grande-mocha!” the Goth apparition behind the huge espresso makers yelled.

  I looked around the coffee shop; I was the only person in here. What’s with the yelling and the look—coal-black hair and a ring through his nose? Really, his parents must be proud. I tried to hide my chuckle as I grabbed the coffee and left a tip. Poor kid looked crazy out of place in our little patch of southern coastline that we affectionately called the Redneck Riviera.

  The smell of coffee cleared a path in my brain and the first sip was heavenly, just what I needed. “Mmm,” the contented sound slipped from my lips. I made a bee-line for the “Help-Yourself-Cocoa” and stirred in a generous helping as I thought about the evening.

  Proving that a man is a cheating bastard is one of my least favorite jobs to work. But my family’s firm, Haynes and Haynes Investigations, has been taking domestic cases since before I was born. I know mom and dad never liked domestic cases any more than I do, but I doubt if couples will ever stop cheating on each other, so there’s job security.

  Usually, catching a guy is easy money for me. Show a little leg; mention that you’re vacationing alone. Boom! They’re paying the tab and escorting you back to your hotel. Joey, my photographer does his job and snaps a couple of good pictures before we enter the room. I tell the guy that I had a change of heart, “Oh woe is me,” and I can’t go through with it. He leaves. I deliver the pictures to the wounded spouse, and boom, we’ve earned our fee. It’s sad, really; nine times out of ten, if the wife’s away, the man will stray. Thank heaven I found my husband Alan and don’t have to worry about all this drama; he’s my rock.

  My target tonight, Philip Janeck, is proving to be more difficult than most. Damn, I thought I had him tonight. There was no missing that sexy look in his eye as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. What stopped him? ‘Another time perhaps,’ he’d said. What did that mean? He didn’t ask for my name or number; how were we supposed to meet another time? I capped my coffee and hobbled out the door. My new heels were beautiful, but I’d give anything for a pair of Teva’s right about now.

  Mrs. Janeck was right to be suspicious; her husband is way too smooth not to have women flocking after him. What would have possessed her to marry him? Okay, I mean I get that he’s hot, realllly hot. At 6'2" with dark wavy hair and an ex pro surfer’s body, he’s a poster boy for tall, dark, and handsome. Plus, that voice…ooooh. I felt a little tingle at just the thought of his voice. But with all her money, you would think she’d have more sense.

  Sense—I’d made a joke, a lame one. Money…cents. Man, was that corny. Dad would have loved it, though. I wished he were here. My heart ached at the thought of him. Man, I am tired.

  As I made my way to my Jeep, my phone broke into my melancholy thoughts. I began the delicate job of balancing my coffee while searching for my keys and phone. Oh well, at least the phone was easy to find in my itty-bitty purse. I pressed the green button and put the phone to my ear.

  “What’s the word?” The deep bass of Ottie’s voice filled my ear.

  Ottie, or Alden Jones, according to his Social Security card, is my partner at Haynes and Haynes Investigations. True to form, he didn’t even wait for me to say hello before he started grilling me.

  “Hello to you too, Ottie,” I said, my voice dripping with honey. Teasing him about his manners is fun, but I also hated to break the news that we didn’t get Philip Janeck.

  “Did Joey get some good pics of the husband?” he asked, his voice was thick with excitement. “Did he put up a fight? That red wig you wear to disguise yourself is the cat’s meow. You own the room when you wear that thing; they say men go for blondes, but…”

  Ottie’s little rant was cut short as my phone flew from my hand. Dazed, I watched my coffee spill out of my cup before I realized my feet had left the ground. The air whooshed out of my lungs as somebody yanked me backward. I had the sensation of riding a roller coaster. I could feel the wind against my neck and my body being pushed into the restraining bar. After a moment of disorientation, I realized that I wasn’t on a roller coaster. Someone had taken me so fast I hadn’t had time to even scream. I was being carried off like a naughty child.

  I am not a child.

  Hell! I’ve taught self-defense. I threw my head back to use his weight against him. Nothing. Then I tried a classic Krav Maga twisting move. He didn’t notice.

  At 5'6" and 120 pounds I’m used to being the smallest in the match, and I’ve learned that in real life you don’t lose points for fighting dirty. I keep my nails short, but they’re still a weapon. I clawed at his arm. His long-sleeve shirt was in tatters by the time I finished, but his arm still felt as solid and smooth as PVC piping. I tried to pry back his fingers. He didn’t even flinch.

  Exhausted from my struggles, I decided to stop fighting and conserve my energy. Instead I tried to focus on my surroundings, but we were moving too fast to recognize anything. I couldn’t even see the pavement below his feet.

  I must have been in la-la land, because the jolt as we came to a halt had me dangling from his arm like a rag doll. Maybe I hit my head when he snatched me, but it felt like we had been flying and just crash landed. My brain was ringing inside its cage and I was nauseated. I guess my stomach hadn’t kept up with my body. If he let go of me now, I would end up in a pile at his feet.

  Now that we were stopped, I focused on my surroundings. The air felt damp and smelled like salt and seaweed. I tried to straighten up as I heard the sound of waves crashing. We were at the beach? The restaurant was over five miles from the beach. How…?

  Focus, I told myself. Get away first. Then you can figure out how he managed to carry you all the way to the water in just minutes.

  He held me with my back against his chest. Only the tips of my toes were touching the ground. His strength was unbelievable. Using just one arm he’d managed to capture both of mine and pin them to my sides. I could feel his breath on my neck, so he couldn’t be that much taller than me, but his arms were holding me as if I weighed nothing. As I registered the panic in my own breathing, I realized that he wasn’t breathing hard at all. Just as I was considering bashing my head into his nose, he forced my head to the side and caressed my neck like a lover.

  “Just a little taste for my trouble,” he whispered against my skin.

  His breath was like an ice cold wind, and it made the hair on my arms stand up. I shivered at the hunger in his voice and felt his teeth brush my neck. Then I felt the pop of my skin giving way under his teeth and something clicked inside me. Every point of skin-on-skin contact burned as
if a tiny flame had been lit to combat his cold touch. The blood pulsed in my finger tips and my heart sped wildly. I screamed in rage.

  And then I got an idea. The heels!

  He raised his head from my neck and began to turn me around to face him. When he moved, I slammed all my weight down on my right leg, forcing the stiletto heel of my prized Manolo Blahniks into his foot. I heard his breath leave his throat in a hiss and I was thankful for the expensive well-made pointy heels. His hands dug into my arms as he tried to turn me faster to face him. As I spun, I lifted my foot and grasped my shoe, wrenching it off. My vision blurred as I spun with my improvised weapon. The tiny fires that crackled under my skin erupted, like fire ants marching inside my veins.

  Pain burst inside me. A jolt reverberated through my arm, letting me know that I’d hit something. Stars danced in front of my eyes, and I struggled against the pain and the blackness and the pounding in my head. Then I realized that my arms were swinging freely. He’d let go of me!

  This was my chance to get away. My vision was blurry, but through sheer force of will I got a glimpse of him. He had dark, messy hair and lips so red the rest of his face seemed invisible. With a shock I realized I was crouched three feet in front of him ready for another attack. How did I get away from him? Why was the blood in my veins searing me from the inside out? I tried to hold on to consciousness, but I couldn’t.

  As I collapsed I watched a look of confusion and surprise came over his face as he pulled my four-inch stiletto out of his temple.

  Chapter 2

  The Morning After

  Ahh...it’s so bright. I can’t sleep. Damn it. Alan left the blinds open again. I moved my arm to cover my eyes while I reached for the covers with my other hand. Ugh, where are the covers?

  There weren’t any covers, because I wasn’t in a bed. I seemed to be...on a roof.

  “Oh God!” I said, sitting up so fast that my head rang. My hands moved over my body, taking inventory. Face—okay, arms—okay, clothes still on—grrreat, legs—still in working order. I’m okay. I closed my eyes in a silent prayer and let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Although the heat coming off the flat tar roof was uncomfortable, I took in another breath and I realized I felt terrific. I should be freaking out since I just woke up on a roof, but I was just happy to be all in one piece and fully clothed.