“All right, Obsidian, tell me something about yourself,” Penelope prompted when they were alone.
Since she didn’t realize how loaded that request was, he deflected. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything.” Her smile was radiant. “But we can start slow. If you’re not a bounty hunter, what exactly do you do? For a living?”
“Protection,” he said easily, having given the response a million times before.
“Like a bodyguard?”
“In a sense, sure.” Obsidian picked up his fork, took a few bites, urging her to eat because he could tell she was hungry.
Penelope followed his lead, cutting her omelet into smaller pieces before taking a bite. He was strangely drawn to the way her lips caressed her fork, mesmerized by her soft murmurs of approval.
Her eyebrows lifted. “And how exactly does a bodyguard afford a hotel room on the top floor?”
“I’ve got connections.” That was the truth.
Then again, every answer he gave her would be the truth.
Because Penelope was hisamsouelot, the Fates were at play here. Though this appeared as a normal date, it was actually the beginning of a cataclysmic union of souls. As they got to know one another, only truth would be spoken between them. Unlike human souls paired together, those paired with an immortal were held to a higher standard. They were incapable of lying to one another. For her, Obsidian doubted that was a problem. For him, it wasn’t quite so easy. Because he had to tread carefully about the details he revealed—such as the fact he was an angel—it was imperative he deflect.
Not that he couldn’t tell her. They’d received the go-ahead from Michael to be as candid as was necessary with the humans slated as their other half. However, he wasn’t sure Penelope would be able to handle the truth. At least not yet.
But that wasn’t the only obstacle they had to overcome. In fact, that was minor in comparison to the chemical reaction they would have to one another.
On the physical front, her body would lust for his in a way she wouldn’t be familiar with, growing stronger every second she was with him. No other male could instill such a deep-seated hunger within her, and it wouldn’t be long before his female would need him the same way he needed her. On an intensely intimate level. In fact, it had escalated tenfold the moment he’d felt her soft skin, smelled her powdery scent.
Preferring to keep the topic on her, Obsidian nodded toward her purse. “What are you reading?”
Penelope reached for the paperback sticking out of the leather handbag. She set it on the table. “I loaned it to a friend. It’s one of my all-time favorites.”
“What’s it about?”
“Fallen angels. It’s a paranormal romance.” She blushed beautifully. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
The female ate with such grace, her hand movements minimal, chewing slowly, sipping from her glass. Obsidian could hardly focus on his food long enough to remember the social niceties of sharing a meal.
“I’ve had this fascination with the paranormal since I was a teenager,” she explained. “I’m not sure what spurred it, but I devour everything I can get my hands on. I even majored in mythology and folklore in college.”
“In the realm of vampires and werewolves? Or more so Greek gods?”
She smiled. “All of the above. Among other things. And no, I don’t believe they exist—at least not vampires and werewolves, but I do enjoy the escape from reality.”
Probably not the time to tell her his closest friend was a vampire then.
“And your interest in angels?” He nodded toward the book. “Are you active in the church?”
Penelope shook her head. “No. I … uh … I just enjoy the romanticized versions of angels in fiction.”
“Fascinated by angels and vampires.” For some reason, that pleased him.
“Don’t tell me you’re not.”
Fascinated wouldn’t quite be the term he would use, but Obsidian smiled anyway. “Do you believe in God?”
She nodded. “I do, yes.”
