“Stop,” he rasped, the pain in his eyes splintering her brittle shields. “Do not say that.”
Nia fixed her attention on the tranquil river. She didn’t want to be pulled back into whatever else he wanted from her. Her foolish heart could never deny him.
“Fine. Take me to this Michael. I suppose I’d have to trust him since he sent you to watch over me…” She laughed, the sound harsh, bitter. “He sent a serpent into the hen house?—”
“That is not true, not the way you mean. I know I hurt you…”
She pivoted. “You did?—”
“Heavens, I know I did!” With a growl, he dragged her to him, his arm banding around her waist. His mouth came down on hers in a frustrated kiss, but then it gentled fast, and he kissed her as if he hungered for her. And all those repressed feelings within her broke free.
With a moan, she responded, seeking more of his mouth, wishing this were real. But it was one last kiss from the angel sent to kill her?—
Her desire plummeted. She broke the kiss and stepped back.
He dropped his hands, his eyes losing their luminous metallic hue. “Is this what you want?”
While she still had to work past his supposed betrayal, her longing for him didn’t dim. But the most important part?
What I want, you can never give me.
She asked anyway, “Are you saying you want me?”
“Did I not prove this to you?”
“And?”
“Nia…” He shut his eyes and rubbed his chest, something she’d never seen him do. “I-I…”
His hesitation said it all.
She fought not to let the tears slip free again, fought not to beg him to fight both Heaven and Hell so they could be together. “If you think I’m going to wait around for whenever you remember me and pop over for a quick fuck every year or so… No, thank you.”
And that unreadable mask slid back in place. The distance between them was so vast that Nia knew he would never cross it, not for her.
“As you wish, then. I will take you to Michael.”
They reappeared in a tranquil, snow-covered garden as twilight descended. Nia shivered as she stared up at the looming granite castle meandering to her left with its many towers and crenelated battlements covered in creeping ivy. Lights glowed in some of the windows.
The place looked like a gothic Christmas card.
“Michael lives here?” she asked, awe stealing through despite her desolation.
“When he’s around, yes.”
The reality of her situation trapped her in a suffocating hold, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. She’d never felt more alone than she did right then. She was being dumped on this Michael, another angel and a stranger.
No matter what she’d told Lore, Nia didn’t trust anything about this situation, not when her experience with these heavenly beings was turning out to be life-threatening. Lore, who’d been sent to kill her, even if he hadn’t done so, and another angel had left her to die from snake venom. So much for divinity.
Lore led the way along the snowy path. Nia followed, shoulders hunched, stepping in his footprints. They rounded the building, passing several French doors and terraces. As they neared a smaller patio with wrought-iron chairs and a table, Lore headed there.
A touch, and the door opened. He stood aside and waited for her to enter the small, warm study. She took a step and stopped. The crackling fire burned in the hearth, casting a dim glow over the wall shelves and an L-shaped desk.
His body brushed her back—a frisson shot through her—and she jerked away and tripped. He grasped her arm, reached past her, and shut the door, surrounding her with his presence and warmth, his gaze on hers. Her heart stuttered. Aware, too, she’d somehow ended up between him and the door.
She bit her trembling lip. How much more could she take?
The main door opened. But with Lore blocking her view and holding her stare captive, she couldn’t see who it was or bring herself to care.
