Dark Kiss Of The Reaper (11 page)

Dane elbowed Shandra. “That’s a month away. She’ll be dating me by then. Unless...” He wiggled his eyebrows at Shandra.

“Freak.” Shandra pushed him away, laughing.

The top curve of a pair of wings appeared behind Shandra’s shoulder. Sara went still, happy that Shandra and Dane were busy teasing each other.

Azrael leaned onto the counter, giving her a wink. She sat there, unmoving, unsure how to respond. If no one could see him but her, responding would make her look like she’d lost her marbles.

She gave him a weak smile. Shandra and Dane didn’t notice it wasn’t for them.

“Hi,” Azrael said. “How are you? Last night was kind of a late night for you, wasn’t it?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, burying her head in some paperwork.

He came around the counter and stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, and bent down so that his mouth was beside her ear. “I know you can’t answer me. It’s okay.”

Her fingers went to the pendant around her neck. She nodded, whispered, “good.”

“What?” Shandra asked.

“Nothing,” Sara said.

Azrael kissed the side of her neck, making her inhale and scrunch up one shoulder. “I can’t wait to see you tonight,” he breathed against her skin.

On the other side of the counter, Dane and Shandra watched with interest.

“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked. “Shoo!”

The pair went their separate ways, but their curious looks remained.

Azrael laughed and kissed her neck again. His mouth stayed dangerously close to her ear. “I’m here on business, but I couldn’t resist seeing you.” Then his mouth went lower on her neck. Heat radiated into her core. “Tonight cannot come fast enough.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, too happy to wonder whose soul he’d come to reap. “This isn’t fair,” she said to the file in front of her, wondering if fanning herself with it would attract suspicion in the perpetually chilly building.

“Considering what I could be doing, you should be thankful.” He breathed another kiss across her skin. “But I’ll save that for later.”

He left her shivering with need and anticipating the evening with a brand new set of nerves that stayed with her until she took off for the grocery store. Having something else to concentrate on helped. A little.

She wandered down the Italian foods aisle, amazed by the kinds of pasta beyond spaghetti. The idea of serving angel hair pasta made her smile. She added some fresh tomato sauce from the refrigerated section, a loaf of crusty bread, a bag of salad greens and a pint of her favorite ice cream, coffee chocolate chip. The only thing that tasted better was Azrael. Kissing him after a spoonful of that would probably push her right over the pleasure edge.

On her way home, she picked up two bottles of Chianti, then made a mental list of things to do as she finished the drive.

She hauled the groceries inside, unpacked and put them away, then surveyed her apartment. Nothing could be done about the less-than-pristine carpet. It had been that way when she moved in. The stupid strip of countertop had already come unglued, but she didn’t have time to bother with that. How she longed for a home like the one she used to share with Ray. All that space. Everything new and perfect. But her salary would never cover a home like that.

At least this place was hers, and the rent let her tuck a few dollars into a vacation account each month. She smiled. Someday. The smile disappeared. If Ray paid his alimony like he was supposed to, someday would come a lot sooner.

She gave everything else a once over, vacuuming, polishing, dusting, straightening. Then she opened the sliding doors on her small balcony to let some fresh air in and the smell of cleaning products out.

Being home at this time of day was nice. She stood on the balcony overlooking a corner of the parking lot and let the sun warm her face. Another few weeks, it would be downright chilly, but today was a beautiful Indian summer day.

The trees flanking the small interior green space at the center of the apartment buildings already wore a pretty mix of oranges and yellows. A few leaves held on to their green, but not many.

Some kids threw a football around. Another neighbor walked his dog. She smiled at the small joys of life, and wondered why today seemed more perfect than words.

But in her heart, she suspected the reason would be knocking on her front door in about an hour. Her stomach knotted with anticipation.

Back inside, she set her small glass-topped table for two. There were no “best” dishes. Her everyday was the only set since the divorce. Her mother’s china had gone to her brother, the bringer of grandchildren, and Ray’s mother’s china had stayed with Ray. Just as well. The delicate pink rose and green vine motif had never been her style.

“Bugger.” She stood back and stared at the empty candleholders. She’d forgotten to get tapers. After some digging through various cabinets, she came up with a single white votive and a frosted glass cup. Yeah, that shouted romance. Blowing out a breath, she decided it would have to do.

She showered, shaved her legs—more a precautionary measure than a real plan—and rifled through her closet. Her wardrobe lacked a big selection of date clothes, but an embroidered white peasant blouse and jean skirt finally won out. Casual but sexy, especially with the blouse pulled down to expose her shoulders.

Hair, makeup, time to cook. Well, maybe not cook exactly, but she could get the bread ready and assemble the salad. The pasta would only take a few minutes.

Garlic bread would be the traditional way to go, but there would be kissing. There had better be. She was counting on it. Maybe just buttered and warmed would be okay. She sliced the bread, spread it with butter, then wrapped it in foil and popped it into the small oven.

Smiling, she set the temperature. She rarely cooked for herself. Fixing a meal for Azrael was so much better than cooking for one.

She emptied the container of sauce into a small pan set on low, then dug around for a decent bowl for the salad. Greens added, she sliced a tomato over them. Her mouth scrunched to one side. Greens and a single tomato made a rather pitiful salad.

Opening the cabinet that served as her panty, she stared hard, wishing better ingredients would magically materialize.

She pushed a few cans around. Hiding behind some chicken noodle soup was a small jar of marinated artichoke hearts. Part of the Italian food basket she’d won at a hospital charity raffle. She checked the expiration date. Hah! Years to go. Drained and mixed with the tomatoes, they jazzed up the salad.

Adding the bowl and a bottle of dressing to the small table left her with little else to do. What else could she do to occupy her time? Cheese. They needed grated cheese on the table.

Thirty seconds later, the task was complete and she was back to biting her lip and checking the time. Her heart beat twice as fast as the second hand of her watch.

She filled a stockpot with water and set it to boil for the pasta, adding a big dash of salt. He would be here soon. Maybe early. Of course, he hadn’t been early to their first date. Seemed odd that Death would be lat—

A knock on her door made her jump. He was here. She choked back a squeal, then chastised herself for almost making such a desperate sound.

Act cool.
She took a deep breath and checked her hair and lip-gloss in the hall mirror. Smiled. Too big. She scaled it back. Okay. That was better. More relaxed. Less desperate.

She opened the door, ready to greet her dinner guest. Her smile vanished and her stomach twisted hard. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter Ten

Ray shoved his way in. “You ought to know, you’ve got your lawyer hounding me.”

Good to know her calls hadn’t gone unheeded. She shut the door. The old panic rose like bile. “Just give me the check and get out.”

His gaze traveled over her. “What are you all tarted up for? You going out?” He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for it. The sooner you get remarried, the sooner I can stop writing alimony checks.”

Ignore the jabs. Don’t play into his game. She held her hand out. “Speaking of which.”

He sniffed. “You’re cooking?” Shaking his head, he walked down the hall and into her kitchen/living room/dining area. She chased after him. He lifted the lid off the saucepan. “You sure that’s wise? Julia Child you’re not.”

“Same old Ray. Full of compliments.” What had she ever seen in him beyond his looks and the M.D. after his name? “Do you have the alimony or not?”

He dipped his finger into the sauce, stuck it in his mouth and sucked it clean. “Not bad. Obviously from a jar, but you’ve managed to heat it up without burning it, so that’s a start.”

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Check or not, his visit was over.

Leaning on the counter, he crossed his arms. “You look good. Lost that last five pounds, I see. Too bad you couldn’t do that while we were married. I might have stuck around.”

“Ten pounds actually and since you seem to have forgotten, I’m the one that left you, remember?” Idiot.

Another knock at the door interrupted him before he could answer. Her heart leapt. Some men had great timing. “You really should go now.”

“And miss meeting your next ex-husband? Not a chance. Bring the sucker in.” Ray narrowed his eyes at her and grinned, oblivious to what a smug jerk he was. Or maybe he enjoyed being an ass.

She turned on her heel, marched back to the entryway and opened the door. Azrael smiled from behind a huge bouquet of scarlet roses. Their delicate perfume wafted past her, erasing her nerves.

“These are for you.” He handed the flowers to her. “I hope you like roses.”

“I love them.” She buried her nose in the velvet petals and inhaled again, only half-closing her eyes. Azrael looked so hot in jeans and a snug black sweater she couldn’t take her eyes off him completely. Her inside went a little gooey. The man defined sexy. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Holding the flowers to one side as he stepped in, she met him for a quick kiss on the mouth. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she whispered, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice or her gaze from angling back toward the kitchen.

He gave her a questioning glance, then looked down the hall. “What’s wrong?” He kept his voice low.

“My ex-husband’s here.” She shook her head. “He owes me money, but he hasn’t given it to me yet. He doesn’t seem in any hurry to leave, either.” She exhaled and dropped her head. What would Azrael think of her when he saw the kind of man she’d married? Would he understand she’d been young and foolish and completely mistaken?

Azrael lifted her chin with one hand and kissed her, giving her a wink. “I would be happy to assist you.”

A new lightness bubbled up inside her. “Be my guest.”

He started down the hall, then stopped. “I forgot to tell you. You look beautiful and dinner smells great.” He resumed his march down the hall.

This should be good. She grinned as she followed him. Amazing what denim did for his backside. Or maybe it was what his backside did for denim. Either way, yum.

She walked into the kitchen behind Azrael and in time to see the startled look on Ray’s face. What? Had he expected her to be dating some dweeb?

“Excuse me, I need to get a vase out of that cabinet for these beautiful roses.” She dipped the bouquet toward the cabinet Ray stood in front of. He shuffled to the side without taking his eyes off Azrael.

“So you’re the date?” Ray might have tried for snarky, but it came out too quiet.

“Not the date.” Azrael folded his arms over his massive chest. “The boyfriend.”

Too late to stop it, Sara giggled. Neither man looked at her. She ducked down, grabbed a vase from the cabinet and stuck it under the faucet to fill. Tendrils of steam escaped the lid on the pot of pasta water.

Azrael stood his ground in the center of the kitchen, narrowing the space even more. “You’re the guy who couldn’t keep her.” It was a statement, not a question.

Heaven help her, she might actually be in love with him now.

Ray sputtered. “It wasn’t that I couldn’t, I mean it wasn’t like I was the one who—”

“Whatever.” Azrael moved to Sara’s side and nudged his face against her neck. “Dinner smells great and so do you.”

“Thanks.” She giggled again. No one ever cut the great Dr. Whiteside off, especially not with such a flippant response.

Ray stood open-mouthed and silent. Sara thought he’d never looked so good. She cranked the faucet off and stuck the roses in the vase. She could recut the stems later. No way was she missing any of this.

If Azrael’s eyes had been daggers, Ray would have been sliced stem to stern. “Why are you here?”

“He owes me alimony,” she chimed in. Didn’t look like Ray was capable of speech at the moment anyway.

Azrael nodded, slipping his arm around her waist. “Has he given it to you yet?”

“Nope.”

Dropping his arm from her waist, Azrael took a step toward her ex.

A small, strangled sound leaked out of Ray. “I was just getting to that.” He fumbled at his shirt pocket. “Here.” He thrust the check at her.