* * *
It was late Monday morning, and Bella was packing for her trip to the Watchers temple, hidden deep within the sacred Zagros mountains, the following day. But for the first time, she wasn’t flying there. Eblis wanted the Watchers to know of her powers, so she planned on teleporting.
Although how the Elite were going to react to the fact she possessed as many, if not more, powers than they did, she had no idea. Not when for the last several decades she’d passed herself off as a lower caste immortal with a diluted demonic bloodline.
To be fair, that’s exactly what she’d always thought she was, until Eblis’ unexpected revelation the other night.
Maybe she shouldn’t reveal everything. The Elite possessively guarded their inner sanctums, and she was sure they’d put her through a grueling evaluation before allowing her entrance to their elevated ranks. Eblis had, after all, only mentioned revealing her ability to teleport, and that alone was enough.
Her phone rang. Surely Octavia wasn’t checking up on her again? With an exasperated sigh, she glanced at her screen.
Nate.
Her heart did a completely unnecessary leap in her chest.
She took a deep breath and let it ring again before answering. He’d promised to let her know how things were progressing before she left the country, and he was following through. That was all.
“Isabella.” His sinful voice was dark and rich, and rolled over her skin like every forbidden vice she’d ever imagined. “I promised you something and didn’t deliver. What’s your address?”
She sank onto an antique grandmother chair by the window. It was either that or suffer the indignity of her knees wobbling.
“I don’t remember you not delivering on your promises.” And how. She forcibly stopped herself from indulging in a visceral flashback to their night in Romania. Also, thank the gods her voice didn’t betray just how much she enjoyed hearing from him. This wasn’t a game. She had to focus on the fact that the Archangel Nathanael was dangerous.
His sexy laugh was like molten honey flowing through her veins. Briefly, she closed her eyes in disgust at her body’s treacherous responses, but it didn’t stop a small smile from escaping.
“I’m referring to your scandalous lingerie.”
She couldn’t seem to wipe the despicable smile from her face, so she gave up. “Lingerie? What am I missing?”
“A pair of knickers.” Amusement threaded through every word, and she could imagine the irresistible amber flecks glittering in his eyes as he spoke the words.
Stop it. She shook her head, as though that might help jog her brains back into their proper place. “Oh right. Your Neanderthal display the other night.” Then his comment penetrated. “Wait, you’ve bought me another pair of knickers?”
Surely not. Then again, why not? Everything he did was so alien to all her preconceived notions of archangels as beings of incalculable arrogance, and their legendary disregard of any creature besides themselves.
It’s only underwear. There was no need for hyperbole.
“I did,” Nate said, intruding into her attempt to push him back into a box in her brain marked Deadliest Enemy. “When are you free? I’m up for a special delivery.”
She pressed her thighs together and ignored the primal tug of need that flared at his barely disguised promise. Not that she was going to metaphorically fall at his feet.
“A platonic delivery only, I presume?” Did she sound coolly amused? She hoped he couldn’t guess how much of an effort it had taken her.
“Totally. I don’t want your lasting memory of me to be of a lingerie ripping asshole,” he said then groaned. “That didn’t come out the way I planned.”
She laughed. “It really didn’t. I hope.”
“Your address?”
He was being very persistent. Or was she being overly sensitive? Except she never gave out her home address to anyone but her closest friends. Nate wasn’t—and could never be—a friend.
And she had to face it. If things turned nasty, it wouldn’t take him five minutes to find out where she lived.
She gave him her address.
“Be there in half an hour,” he said, before ending the call.
Either he wasn’t ready to see her yet, or he was continuing the farce that he needed time to travel across London. Brooding, she gazed at the screen of her phone, as the question she kept ignoring finally pushed its way to the front of her mind.
How is this going to end?
* * *
Exactly thirty minutes later, there was a knock, and she could see Nate’s outline through the decorative stained-glass panels. She counted to ten before going to open the door. No way did she want him to think she’d been waiting down the hall for him.
His hair was pulled back from his face and black gems glittered in his earlobes and nose. Even when he greeted her with a devastating smile, it didn’t dispel the aura of formidable warrior that clung to him.
He would be lethal in battle.
A shiver skittered along her arms. He was her enemy, but she hoped she never had to witness him in action.
“As promised.” He held up a bag from an exclusive London lingerie boutique, and her sense of danger melted, the way it always did when she was in his company. He stepped into her house without being invited and she closed the door behind him. Because she had already invited him in when she’d given him her address.
“Thank you.” She took his gift but didn’t open it right away. Truth was, she couldn’t drag her fascinated gaze from his face. Although he still dazzled her with a half-smile, she got the impression he wasn’t used to doing this kind of thing.
She steeled her nerves against his charm, but warmth seeped through her chest regardless.
With a silent sigh, she led him into the drawing room. Her pièce de résistance. It was like stepping back in time with the inlaid rosewood sofas, lamp tables, and cast-iron fireplace. Unlike her kitchen, there was nothing modern in the room.
Well, except for twenty-first century electricity, obviously. There was no way she was going back to relying on gaslight.
“Nice place.” Nate swept a keen glance around the room.
“Thanks. This house was virtually derelict before I moved in, but I had to buy it. I loved the Edwardian era.” Shit. Had she said loved? Luckily, Nate hadn’t appeared to notice the slip of her tongue.
“You renovated from scratch?” He seemed genuinely interested.
“Yes. My next project is the main bathroom. I’ve already sourced an original claw foot bath, it’s in my garden shed at the moment.”
There was an enigmatic half-smile on his face, as though he found her enthusiasm when it came to restoration amusing. Sometimes she did get carried away by her passion.
She placed the bag on one of the sofas and pulled out the large gift box. She glanced at Nate, who was taking up all the space by the door. “It’s a big box. Are you passing comment on the size of my bottom?”
“Your bottom is perfect.”
She tried not to laugh and failed. “That’s not a very platonic thing to say.”
“I wasn’t speaking from a platonic viewpoint.”
“I know.” It didn’t matter how many pep talks she gave herself when she was alone. As soon as she saw Nate again, all her good resolutions flew out of the window.
She took the lid off the box and a gasp caught in her throat. Delicate cornflower blue knickers, bra, and exquisite corset nestled in pale blue tissue paper. With infinite care she placed each gorgeous item on her sofa. Nate came up behind her, and although they weren’t touching, she could feel his heat envelope her in a sensual caress.
“You like?” His voice was husky.
“Yes.” She dragged in a ragged breath. “They’re beautiful.”
“No chance of modeling them for me? In a purely platonic manner?”
She gave a small huh of laughter. “There’s no way we’d keep things out of the bedroom if I wore these for you.”
“Who says we need the bedroom?”
She let out a long breath and turned to face him. He was standing way too close for comfort, yet not nearly close enough to satisfy her craving. It was a toss-up between flinging her arms around him or backing away.
She folded her arms. This was her turf and she wasn’t retreating.
“You enchant me, Isabella.” He was flirting, she knew that, but woven through his words was a sense of genuine bafflement. “I know it’s safer for us not to be involved but every time I see you, I lose my mind.”
Why did he always say the most captivating things? And then his comment penetrated the delusional rose petals that threatened to turn her brain into pulp. “Safer?”
She knew damn well it was safer for her to keep away from him. But what did he mean by it?
His face darkened, and it was like thunderclouds obscuring the sun. I’m so screwed…
“I’ve come across some ruthless—” he paused for a split second, considering. “People in my time. They wouldn’t hesitate to harm someone I cared about, just for the hell of it.”
Something strange and sharp twisted deep inside her breast. “You care about me?”
“It’s hard not to.” He gave her a sardonic smile, but she wasn’t fooled. He wasn’t messing around.
There was no other reason for him to say such a thing unless he meant it. She was under no illusion that if it suited his purpose he’d kill her, but right now that was a secondary concern.
He wasn’t supposed to be getting under her skin like this. Even before she’d known who he was, their one night together was meant to be just that.
But the more she saw him, the more complicated it all became. She was literally speechless.
He gave her ponytail a gentle tug. “I’m no expert, but isn’t this where you say you care for me, too?”
“I—” The words lodged in her throat. Not that she was sure what those words even were, but she had to say something. I’m the daughter of a demon. Or maybe I despise all archangels and everything they stand for. How about I don’t even know who I am anymore when I’m with you. She dragged her frantic mind back in line. Some truths could never be revealed. “I’m not an expert in this, either.”
“Hey.” His big hand cradled her face. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
He thought she was afraid of being hurt. And she was, but not in the way he imagined. There was no point denying it any longer. She did care about him. And their inevitable parting, even if it wasn’t acrimonious, would haunt her for far too long afterwards.
She threaded her fingers through his, pressing his palm more securely against her cheek. “I can take care of myself, Nate. I’m pretty good at it, actually.”
His jaw flexed, as though he waged an internal battle as to whether he should share more with her, or not. When he sighed, it was clear caution had prevailed. “Okay. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I’ll promise. If you will, too.”
He cocked his head. “Me?”
“Yes. Hunting violators has got to be dangerous, right?”
He gave a crooked smile that did something completely illegal to the pit of her stomach. “Are you worried about me?”
“Is that a crime?” Yes, it is.
“I guess not.” His gaze roved over her face. It was insane how arousing she found it. “But you’d be the first.”
Something squeezed deep in her chest. It definitely wasn’t her heart because that was physiologically impossible. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
He sounded sincere, but while myths abounded on the callousness of archangels and how they were incapable of love, there were also plenty of stories in the archives of how humans had fallen for them since the beginning of their creation. Nothing would convince her that Nate hadn’t experienced his share of mortal adoration during his long life.
“Are you telling me you’ve never had any serious relationships in the past?” Then again, that depended on what she meant by serious relationships. A mortal could love an archangel without any promise being made between them. Did that count? Now she’d thought about it, she wasn’t so sure.
“I’m not what you’d call relationship material.” There was a dry note in his voice. “The women I hook up with only want one thing.”
“That’s…” she hesitated. How could she even think of saying such a thing to the immortal warrior in her arms? But she couldn’t stop herself, because so many times in the past she’d known a man only wanted to get close to her for one thing. “That’s kind of sad, Nate.”
“I’m not complaining.”
She wished she could say the same thing. But if not for her demon powers, how many times would she have been taken advantage of, when she was a young girl trying to survive on the streets of London?
“It is sad. And I think you’re wrong, anyway. I’m sure some of your conquests genuinely felt a lot more for you than you’re aware.”
He wound his arm around her waist and tugged her a little closer. “The only conquest I’m interested in is you.”
“What makes you think you’ve conquered me?”
“Have I?”
His dark gaze was mesmeric. If she didn’t know who—what—he really was, she could so easily fall under his magnetic spell.
If I hadn’t already…
No. She was aware of the risks. It was her only protection and she wasn’t going to jeopardize her heart for anyone, least of all an archangel. She could enjoy these moments with him if she held onto the truth. Even if that truth was a lone, flickering flame in the farthest corner of her sane mind.
“Define conquered.”
“Hmm.” His thumb caressed her cheek while his arm tightened around her. “The way you look at me.”
“With my eyes, you mean?”
“Yeah. Your eyes look at me, and I know.”
She laughed. “What else?”
He drew in a deep breath. She had no idea why that was so incredibly alluring. “Your scent.” His voice dropped to a growl and she gave a delicate shiver. “Elusive and sexy. Binding me to you. Even when we’re apart.”
She tugged her hand free from his and wound her arms around his neck. Not just because she wanted to feel his hard, gorgeous body pressed against hers. But because his words sank into her blood, like the finest champagne, a heady maelstrom that caused her limbs to tremble like a sacrificial virgin.
Sanity struggled to reassert itself. “That sounds as though I’ve conquered you.”
“I’m not keeping score.”
“So we’ve vanquished each other.”
He trailed his fingers up her back before grasping her hair in his fist. “You put such a negative spin on things.”
She mirrored his actions, wrapping his thick locks around her knuckles. “I’m a realist.”
His breath singed her lips. “That’s right. You don’t believe in fairy tales.”
“Let’s put the platonic thing on hold.”
His smile was surely forged from the mythical pit of Hades itself. “I can work with that.”
Warning bells clanged in the back of her mind, but it was too late for that. Why did she crave to create another memory of how easily her enemy could penetrate her defenses? What was wrong with her?
Whatever. She didn’t care. She wasn’t a fragile piece of porcelain that would shatter when—if—the truth ever came to light.
With infinite care she unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his magnificent bronzed pecs. His musculature was so breathtakingly defined, as though he’d been lovingly sculptured from living marble, and his harsh sigh as she scraped her nails over him was electrifying.
She pressed her lips against his flesh, savoring the taste of him on her tongue. His grip on her hair was brutal, sending sharp pinpricks of awareness flooding through her skull, and she loved it.
As she eased his pants down his rock-hard thighs, she nibbled teasing kisses across his a
bs. Although he had the physique of a warrior, and she was certain he’d fought countless battles, not a single scar marred his skin.
But then, none of her scars showed, either.
She sank onto her knees and hastily shoved his pants to his ankles, unable to tear her bewitched gaze from his mouthwatering cock.
“The way you’re looking at me now,” he choked out.
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Totally conquered.” She breathed the words against him, before teasing his swollen head with the tip of her tongue. His groan filled her mind, along with the addictive essence that was all Nate. Somehow, she managed to find her voice again. “Vanquished together.”
“Never.” It was a feral growl, intoxicating. She wrapped her hand around his thick length and took him into her mouth. His sharp intake of breath reverberated through his body, sending sparks of lightning cascading across her skin. She cupped his heavy balls in the palm of her hand, relishing how he filled her mouth, so hard and unyielding.
In my power.
The knowledge swam through her, ephemeral, unimportant. Because all that mattered was now, this moment, and the man whose slightest touch could make her forget every rule of survival.
One fist grasped her hair and his other hand anchored the back of her head. It was primitive, savage, an age-old display of machismo, and for the first time the notion didn’t fuel her ire.
Because this was Nate. And this was what she wanted.
With a muffled curse, he pulled back and ripped off his pants, leaving her panting. He joined her on the floor, a wild gleam in his eyes, before he tore her jeans from her and pinned her beneath him.
“Do you realize what you’ve just given up?” She wrapped her legs around him, needing to feel his strength against every inch of her body.
“Later.” It was a harsh response. “I’m not giving up anything.” Then agony flashed across his face, and bracing his weight on one hand, he grabbed his discarded pants. “Fucking condom.” He pulled a packet from his pocket, and a perilous wave of tenderness flooded her. She couldn’t afford to get sentimental. But she’d unpick that later. Right now, his concern for her overrode everything.
Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel Page 12