He remained silent. Her gaze lingered on his strong forearms, the corded tendons appearing like steel cables beneath his lightly tanned skin, giving her the safety she desperately craved.
As her shuddering lessened and her burning lungs stopped feeling like they would implode, he asked quietly, “Why did you go up to the plateau? The place is dangerous for mortals, especially during winter, with snow covering every pitfall.”
Her hold on him tightened. She just shook her head and shut her eyes again, still held in the throes of her near death.
“Nia?”
Hearing her name from a male who never spoke it dragged her out of the chilling ordeal. “Y-you weren’t around when I came downstairs. I-I waited, then went looking for you.”I was scared.
His soft, warm breath teased her skin. “You’re safe now.”
She looked up, but her head bumped his chin, and she winced.
He didn’t move. But something flickered in his otherworldly, usually cool stare. The same intensity she’d seen once before flashed to life.
“Thank you f-for saving me,” she whispered, her voice husky from her tears. “I would have died if you…” She swallowed hard.
Without thinking, she reached up and kissed his cheek in gratitude—except he turned his head, and her lips pressed against his mouth instead.
He went dead still.
Nia pulled back, eyes wide.Oh, shit!
His remoteness returned in spades. She doubted even dynamite could shatter his reserve.
“I didn’t mean to do that. I just needed…”Comfort.To know I mattered to someone.But the only people who cared were in New Orleans. “To feel safe.”
His gaze drifted over her doubtless swollen face.
Another shaky inhale, and she swiped her wet cheeks on the hem of her t-shirt, forcing herself to answer his earlier question. “I was several feet away from the edge of the plateau. I know the dangers of an icy surface. A powerful gust of wind knocked me down. I-I slipped and skidded across.” At his unwavering stare, she scowled. “I know it sounds insane, but it happened.”
While she might still be in shock, the heat within caused her foolish body to have other ideas, like lean back into his warm, naked chest and ask him to touch her?—
Before she totally lost her mind, she pushed away, surprised he still held her and hadn’t dumped her ass on the ground after that kiss.
She stood and swayed.
And he was there, grasping her arm, wings fluttering and drawing her attention. They glowed like the setting sun, the colors of flames brilliant and undeniably beautiful against the dark granite of the mountain and gathering rain clouds. The fiery shade almost matched his shoulder-length hair.
“They’re beautiful?—”
“They’re just wings.”
Right. Her gaze lowered to his chest. His right pectoral sported smears of dried blood. Yet there were no wounds or visible scabs.
“You were hurt?” she breathed, gently touching the area with the dried gore. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. “What happened? Was it demons?” It had to be why he wasn’t at the abbey and hadn’t responded straightaway when she fell off the mountain.
“It’s nothing.”
At his clipped tone, she hastily lowered her hand. His cold stare made it clear he didn’t care for her gratitude, compliments, or concern, and he certainly wouldn’t want her touching him, either.
His wings rustled and vanished, and a black button-down shirt slid over his torso.
And there he was, the well-dressed, unflappable angel protector she knew. To him, she was just a job.
The wind picked up, and the morning turned darker. She shivered and rubbed her arms.
“It grows colder,” he said. “You should be inside.”
