Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel

by Phillips, Christina

  Then again, some rules were just made to be broken.

  “We could have coffee in my office.” Ugh, that didn’t sound in the least bit sexy now she’d said it out loud. Luckily, Nate didn’t appear to find her invitation lacking, as his response was a bone-melting smile.

  She really needed to get out more. But tonight, this was exactly what she needed.

  “Sounds good.” His voice sank into her like a potent cocktail of aged whiskey and smoky promises of orgasmic bliss. She resisted the urge to wipe her damp palms on her jeans. The gods alone knew why her sex drive had suddenly woken up, but she wasn’t about to spoil the moment by analyzing it.

  “This way.” She grabbed the almost empty bottle of champagne before leading him through to the back of the bar where she unlocked the door that opened to the private section of the building. She’d never noticed how narrow the corridor was before. Nate took up way more space than was legal, and whatever cologne he was wearing should have a public health warning attached to it.

  “A secret passageway.” There was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice as he followed her up the stairs to the top floor, where all the offices were.

  “It’s not a secret.” She made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder at him. Liquid heat unfurled deep inside as she caught his mesmeric dark gaze, and then the moment shattered as she tripped on the next stair. She gripped the bannister before she fell on her face but couldn’t prevent herself from laughing. Because how ridiculous was it that she was so besotted with a hot stranger that she’d almost lost her balance?

  “You okay?” His hand wrapped around her arm, clearly in a chivalrous attempt to steady her. All it did was catapult her newly energized libido into orbit.

  “I’m fine. It’s been a long day.” And it’s going to be a longer night. Thank the gods she hadn’t said that out loud. There was going to be no night. Just a quick hook-up. Okay, maybe a long hook-up. She might as well make the most of it.

  Once the morning came, her annual weakness would be back under lock and key and she wouldn’t need the irresistible distraction Nate offered.

  “I bet it has, with five clubs in your portfolio.”

  They reached the top landing, where she unlocked the door that led to the offices. She was nothing if not security conscious when it came to keeping out unwary humans from prying into her business.

  “Six clubs, as of today.” She swung around and tilted the bottle at him. “I don’t usually drink while on duty.”

  Usually, she didn’t drink much at all.

  He took the bottle from her. “Congratulations. We should celebrate.” The gleam in his eyes told her exactly how he planned on doing that.

  Yes, please.

  “Absolutely.” Was that breezy voice really hers? He’d never guess she was a volcanic mess inside. “That’s why we’re here. For coffee, remember?”

  She pushed open the door to her private office. A nineteenth century desk gleamed in the corner and the polished floorboards were covered with thick rugs while huge potted plants dotted the room. Her offices in each of her clubs were beautiful.

  Most of the time, they helped keep the ugly nightmares at bay.

  He kicked the door shut behind them and placed the champagne bottle on her antique desk. “I can think of a better way.”

  So could she. But this bantering was kind of fun.

  “Sounds like someone’s in a hurry.”

  He grinned. “Where’s your coffee machine?”

  Ah, okay then. She hadn’t expected him to take her up on that challenge. “Over there.”

  He strolled across the room, and she all but salivated over the spectacular view of his rear. His black shirt fitted him like a second skin, emphasizing his broad shoulders and enhancing his breathtaking biceps. He could be a template for the ultimate specimen of masculinity, the fabled mold that had been broken and never perfected again.

  “Where’s this new club of yours?”

  She dragged her mesmerized gaze from his large, strong hands as he deftly scooped coffee into the machine and then found cups. What was the question again?

  “Milan. It’s going to be fabulous.”

  He turned to face her. “Do you source all the properties yourself?”

  She almost answered him, when her cursed caution kicked back in. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions about my business.”

  He prowled toward her. There was no other word for it. Like he was a panther stalking his transfixed prey. The notion sent shivers of delicious awareness along her spine.

  “Hey, I can’t be interested in what you do?” He reached out and wound a strand of her hair around his finger. She forgot how to breathe.

  “Sure.” She sounded like she needed life support. Not far wrong. “As long as that goes both ways. What do you do?”

  “I hunt violators.”

  What a strange way of putting it. Bloody sexy, though. “You’re a bounty hunter?”

  His eyes glinted, and he looked raw and powerful and utterly dangerous. “If you like.”

  She did like. A lot.

  “That must be exciting.”

  “It has its moments.” He crooked his finger, tugging her captured hair, sending tingles across her scalp. “Better than the alternative.”

  “Being bored to tears?” Why were they still talking? She could think of something far better for him to do with his mouth. She licked her lips and his intense gaze followed the tip of her tongue. It was as potent as a featherlight caress from his fingertips.

  “I don’t do boredom.” He lowered his head and his breath fanned her face. Elusive amber flecks glittered in his black eyes. She’d never seen anything quite like it before. “You can die of that.”

  “Apparently,” she whispered, before leaning closer and brushing her lips against his.

  Danger…

  The urgent warning fluttered through her mind. She squashed it flat. The only danger she was in right now was of combustion.

  He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. His body was hard, as though his spectacular musculature was made from granite, but he wasn’t cold like stone. He was warm and vital, and the beat of his heart echoed through her, filling all the empty spaces deep inside.

  Stop. This was just sex. She didn’t need her imagination to conjure up fanciful visions of anything more meaningful. She couldn’t afford to.

  An unintentional groan escaped as his lips trailed a scorching path across her jaw before gently nipping her earlobe. His hot breath was a barely-there caress and his stubble chafed her heated skin.

  “Isabella.” He drew out every syllable of her name, his lips teasing her ear. She’d never heard anything so erotic in her life, and she gripped his biceps. Gods, he felt even better than he looked. Leashed power vibrated through him, and when she tightened her grip, he flexed his muscles in a blatant show of masculine pride.

  Feverishly, she tore open the buttons of his shirt. A magnificent expanse of chest greeted her, lightly sprinkled with dark hair, and he gave a primitive growl that was so damn hot she almost melted on the spot.

  He gripped the hem of her sweater and tore it over her head. Frustration glowed in his eyes at the long-sleeved T-shirt beneath. She laughed and ripped it off. “Hey, I get cold. All right?”

  “You won’t be cold tonight.” He appeared riveted on her crimson, push-up bra which, she had to admit, made her boobs look good. “I’m going to make you burn.”

  “Burning already.” She went onto her toes and wound her arms around his neck. He responded by gripping her butt and crushing her against his unyielding erection. Damp heat bloomed between her thighs, and savage need clawed through her.

  His hands cupped her, branding her through her jeans. And when he kissed her, stars exploded inside her mind as their tongues touched and lips melded. Her jeans were halfway down her legs before she even realized he’d unzipped her, and with a groan of frustration she broke their kiss so she could kick off her boots and jeans.
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  A growl rumbled in his throat as he dragged his molten gaze over her. The only reason she bought sexy, extravagant lingerie was because she loved them. Tonight, she loved them for another reason entirely.

  Because Nate clearly approved of the crimson scraps of lace, too.

  “You’re dazzling,” he rasped, as his fingers skimmed over her arms, leaving prickles of fire in his wake.

  Dazzling. What a magical way to say he found her hot. She struggled to return the compliment, but it took all her effort just to remain upright. And breathing.

  “So are you,” she gasped, which was hardly original, but she still meant it. Her palm glided over his head, and his glorious hair sent molten waves of need from her fingertips to her toes.

  Astounding.

  He nibbled kisses along her throat, and one big hand cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her aching nipple through the fabric of her bra. She arched into him, needing more, her nails digging into his scalp and neck, desperate to feel every inch of him possess her.

  For one night only.

  His grin was satanic as he lifted her in one arm, as though she weighed no more than a feather, and set her on the edge of her desk. He stood between her spread legs, cradled her head and kissed her as though the world was ending.

  She was pliant flame beneath his hands and didn’t even try to rein in her overactive imagination. She could pretend whatever she liked. It was only make-believe but this incredible man could make her believe almost anything.

  He wound her hair around his fist and tugged her head back, before raining scorching kisses over her throat and breasts. She clung onto his shoulders as he tore her knickers aside and teased her wet folds. Desperately, she hooked her legs around his body, but she might as well have tried to bend a mountain to her will.

  That he could resist her strength was staggering but it only added to his irresistible allure.

  “You want something, Isabella?” His question burned her lips, and the way he growled her name was a whole new level of enchantment.

  She panted into his face, lost her mind in the dark magnetism of his eyes. And her deepest, secret, wish spilled from her lips. “I want you to make me forget.”

  Chapter 3

  Nate

  Nate sucked in a jagged breath, but Isabella’s whispered words seared through his mind. They’d been unexpected. Strangely vulnerable.

  They were the hottest fucking words he’d ever heard.

  “I’ll make you forget your own damn name.” If he didn’t forget his own first. Roughly, he ripped open his pants, only one thought hammering through his lust-fueled brain.

  Make her mine.

  Still gripping her hair in his fist, he wrapped his other arm around her. Her flesh was warm and silky-smooth. As her lips parted in a soundless sigh and her lashes swept over her eyes, he swallowed a groan. There was no hope of him slowing things down and taking his time.

  He needed her. Right now.

  They had the rest of the night to take it slow.

  He claimed her lips again as his cock teased her wet slit. She writhed, digging her nails into his shoulders and her legs tightened around his back. His grin was feral, and she smiled back, their teeth grazing in a kiss that blew his mind.

  His blood thundered in his ears. All he could see was Isabella, naked except for her provocative crimson bra, and his last defenses crumbled. He thrust into her, and she was so hot and tight around him he couldn’t remember which damn planet he was on, never mind his name.

  She shuddered in his arms and he stilled, even though it nearly killed him. “You okay?”

  “I will be.” Her eyes were glazed with passion. “I can still remember my name, though.”

  He laughed and released her hair so he could trail his fingers along her flushed cheek.

  “I’m not done, yet.”

  She mirrored his action, and her light caress tipped him over the edge. He sank into her, up to the hilt, and she dug her heels into his ass, anchoring them for an elusive, breathtaking eternity.

  “Now,” she breathed, and his last vestige of restraint unraveled. He hammered into her and she met every frenzied thrust, gripping him so damn tight the world threatened to shatter. And when she gasped his name as her orgasm splintered through her, he followed her into the rapture drenched vortex.

  Harsh breaths rasped his chest as his forehead rested against hers. He couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. Remaining impaled within Isabella’s sweet heat seemed like the best idea ever.

  He closed his eyes and grappled to find remnants of control. But why the hurry? He could enjoy this for a few more bliss-filled moments.

  Finally, she stirred, her palm sliding over the length of one of his locks. He raised his head just enough so he could look into her eyes.

  She gave a soft, satisfied hum that vibrated through every cell in his body. “What’s my name?”

  “No idea.” He grinned at her. “Who needs a name?”

  “Not me.” She lightly grasped his hair. “That was the best way I’ve celebrated a business deal in my life.”

  He’d forgotten about her businesses or the fact he was meant to be investigating the real power behind the Inanna clubs.

  Losing sight of his main objective, no matter how pleasurable the distraction, was a novelty, but he wasn’t going to stress about it. “Any time you want to celebrate, I’m happy to help.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She was still smiling but she shifted on the desk, as though she was no longer comfortable. With more reluctance than he’d ever admit, he slowly withdrew from her.

  Why the lingering desire not to end this moment? It wasn’t as though he intended leaving her yet. There was plenty of time for another…

  His lips twitched with amusement. For another celebration.

  “Hold that thought.” There was husky promise in her voice as she edged off the desk. As he shoved his cock back in his pants his gaze slid over her gorgeous body. Why was he still dressed? Next time, he was getting naked too.

  “Consider it held.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers. She gazed at him, apparently mesmerized, and a discordant thought skimmed across his mind.

  Without a low-level glamour to obscure their so-called heavenly radiance, it was a fact that humans—most mortals, in general—tended to be spellbound when in the presence of archangels.

  Frankly, it was a fucking pain in the ass.

  It was an easy enough fix, and he barely even thought twice about throwing up a suitable glamour when needed. But although Isabella had seen through it, was it possible she’d still been dazzled by his archangelic heritage, rather than just by him?

  What the hell was he even thinking? First, it didn’t matter. Second, he was a fucking archangel, so the distinction didn’t even exist.

  Vaguely unnerved by the direction of his random analysis of a situation that did not matter, he eyed her ruined lingerie, that had slipped down to her ankles when she’d stood up. As though following his thought, she bent and picked up the torn scrap of lace.

  “I owe you one,” he said, as she dropped it onto the desk and pulled on her jeans.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” There was laughter in her voice, and the knotted muscles in his shoulders relaxed. Besotted humans tended not to laugh when in the presence of archangels. They simply worshipped. She could see through his glamour, but only, thank fuck, partially.

  He needed to get back on track. “Coffee?”

  “Thought you’d forgotten the reason why I brought you up here.”

  “Some things are even better than coffee.”

  “Would those things be amazing?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “You tell me.” He washed his hands in the sink in the corner of her office and then busied himself with the machine. Soon the air was filled with the rich scent of coffee. When he turned around to hand her a cup, she was on the chaise longue, her legs tucked under her. Tendrils of hair had become loose from her ponytail and clung to her face,
and her breasts were almost spilling out of that sinfully sexy bra.

  “Amazing,” she confirmed, as she accepted her coffee. He hadn’t even asked how she wanted it. Just given it to her strong and black, the way he liked it. It was funny how caffeine gave him a hit in a way human produced alcohol never could. She took a sip and her lashes fluttered in evident approval.

  He sat next to her, taking up most of the space, and gently clasped her bare foot. He needed to know why there were demonic traces in the nightclub, and Isabella might be able to help him.

  She gave him a considering look through the steam rising from her cup. “Are you on a case?”

  Unaccustomed guilt stabbed through his chest. Before he could construct a convincing defense, she tapped his hand with one finger.

  “You said you were a bounty hunter.”

  It was obvious she had her doubts about what he did for a living now, but at least it explained her question.

  “I’m always on a case.” He gave her foot a gentle squeeze. “But right now, I’m with you.”

  “How long are you staying in the area?” She took another sip of her coffee, but her eyes never left his.

  “For a while. Haven’t decided yet.”

  “So it depends how long it takes to collar your mark?”

  He leaned into her space. “Now who’s asking all the questions?”

  She didn’t even blink. “I’ve found it’s a good way to uncover information.”

  “How about quid pro quo?”

  He’d expected her to agree right away. They were just flirting. But her hesitation piqued his interest. Was she hiding something, after all?

  “That could be dangerous.” There was a thoughtful note in her voice, as if the notion was tempting rather than threatening. Not that he’d intended to threaten. “Should we set some ground rules first?”