Fallen Angel (Hqn) (23 page)

“Of course.”

He took her to the bedroom, helped her undress, handling her carefully. He saw the scars that laced her skin, some so pale he knew they must have been there since childhood. He’d always accepted that they were simply a part of her, had to force himself not to think too much about how they’d gotten there. Reminding himself how strong she was helped. But tonight he saw her fragility, how the evening had overwhelmed her, made her raw. And it made him more fiercely protective of her than ever.

He helped her into her cotton nightgown and put her to bed, changed into his pajama bottoms and slid in next to her. She moved into his arms, her soft, fragrant body against his. They lay quietly together for some time, and he thought she might have dozed off. But when he shifted to look at her he found her eyes open, staring back at him in the dim moon glow coming through the window.

“Declan?”

“What is it, baby?”

“I don’t want to think anymore tonight.”

“Don’t then. Just sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep. I want to forget. Will you help me forget?”

She wrapped her arm around his body, pulling his hips toward hers, and slung one leg over him. The warm, damp press of her mound on his leg made him hard instantly. That and the smell of her hair. Flowers. Pure female. Purely a creature of the earth.

His.

He slipped her nightgown over her head, tore his pajama bottoms down over his legs. Holding himself up on his elbow for a few moments, he stared at her. She was bathed in moonlight, washed in gleaming silver. Her hair was spread out around her, long silken strands. So long they draped off the edge of the bed. And her face was so damn sweet, her mouth so lush, he could hardly stand not to kiss her.

He rolled over and did just that, opening her lips with his, his tongue slipping inside. She tasted faintly of the mint tea and honey she’d had earlier, which made his chest go tight for some reason he didn’t understand.

Love her. Have to have her.

He shifted until he was on top of her, her plush breasts soft against the wall of his chest. He could feel her nipples hardening as he kissed her. And when he slid one thigh between hers, he felt her wet heat. Incredible, how wet she got.

His cock pulsed with need. He kissed her harder, heard her quiet moans, felt her breath tangling in his own. He inhaled, inhaled
her.
And she opened for him and let him slip between her thighs.

Soft and hot and wet. Her pussy was a tight sheath around him as he pushed inside. She was warm in his arms, her mouth eager on his, her hands all over his skin. Her legs wrapped around him, her hips meeting his thrusts.

“Declan…more. I need you. I
need
you.”

“Baby…”

Together they moved, one breath, one body. Need and a sharp, simmering pleasure that rose, higher and higher. Until finally, they came, both of them crying out. And he felt a strange warmth that went beyond the pure physical pleasure of being inside her beautiful body.

Forever.

He would have to do something about that. But first, he had to catch his breath. Had to breathe her in once more. Had to sleep with her in his arms. And wake up to her beside him.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
HE
WEEKS
PASSED
IN
A
lovely blur. Angel was remembering more each day about her past: her time with The Grandmother, as well as her early years with her family. Yet she still felt disconnected from them, as if that life had happened to another person, someone she’d just met or had seen in a movie.

Meanwhile, she had Declan. And Ruth and Oran. They had spent some time with them, once going to Oran’s house for dinner, twice going to eat at a restaurant, all of them together. And she had spent a little time with Georgia, one of the waitresses at Bitsy’s. They’d had pie and coffee at Bitsy’s while Declan had gone to the hardware store. They’d talked about gardening and baking, and Georgia had promised to take her to a movie, something Angel hadn’t tried yet, but was eager to experience. Georgia was so nice to her. It was strange having a friend. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, but Georgia was patient with her.

Declan had taken her into town, and two of the local art galleries wanted her drawings to sell. She still couldn’t quite believe it. But she liked the idea of having some
place
in the world. A job. Declan told her she was an artist, a professional, which made her a little giddy.

She was still getting used to going places. She enjoyed it, but found she was easily overwhelmed. Ruth assured her that would ease with time. Meanwhile, she was happy in Declan’s house in the woods. Happy with Declan.

She knelt on the front porch now, Liam at her side, planting basil in a terra-cotta pot. She had a whole herb garden on the porch in planter boxes: thyme and rosemary and lemon balm. Oregano, sage and an enormous pot of lavender. It reminded her of her old garden. Except that this time, it was truly
hers.
Hers and Declan’s.

They’d grown closer. As her strength grew and she was able to do more she realized Declan’s view of her had shifted. He was still protective of her, but she felt they were on increasingly more equal footing. He had more confidence in her, and she had more confidence in herself. It felt good. Their relationship felt balanced, as though each of them had a place in it, their individual responsibilities to each other. That in itself was some sort of epiphany to her, something she had never imagined. But now that it was happening, it felt exactly right.

The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky, casting dusty light and shadow over the trees. She loved this time of year, midsummer. Loved that it was still light out at the end of the day, when she knew Declan would be coming home from work soon. Loved the warmth of the summer days. Sometimes she walked with Liam while Declan was at work, just the two of them. She appreciated Liam’s quiet companionship. He was her protector every bit as much as Declan.

She was happy.

She’d never known she could be happy. So much of her life had been about surviving the strange and terrible events she was put through over and over again. In between those times she had worked to find whatever tiny moments of joy she could: her garden growing, discovering a nest of baby birds, those rare nights when The Grandmother would really talk to her, mostly about the books she read. But now she had true happiness.

She couldn’t wait for Declan to come home from work each day. Loved even more those days he had off from work, when they would walk on the beach together, or in the woods with Liam, or drive into town to eat at Bitsy’s or the small Italian restaurant down the highway, where Angel had tasted pizza for the first time. Some days they stayed at home, sitting on the porch together. She would draw while Declan worked with his wood, shaping it into animals and trees. Some days they spent hours in bed, getting up only long enough to eat. Those days were her favorite.

“Almost time for him to come home,” she told Liam, wiping her hair from her eyes with her arm, her heart beating a little faster.

And as she worked her hands into the soil, patting it down around the newly transplanted basil plants, Declan’s truck pulled into the drive.

Liam got up and ran to greet him as she dusted the potting soil from her palms. Declan got out, rubbed Liam’s head, then moved to the porch, smiling. He wrapped her up in his arms, kissed her, his lips soft on hers.

He pulled back, brushed his lips across her cheek, picked up her hand to kiss it, as he often did, and paused. “You’re dirty.”

“I am.”

“I like it when you’re dirty.”

She grinned at him, and he kissed her again.

“How was your day, baby?”

“Good. Trina from the Zimmer Gallery in town called. She wants more of my botanical prints.”

“That’s great.”

“I still can’t believe people buy them.”

“Why wouldn’t they? They’re beautiful.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve always done. The idea that anyone would pay money for something I love to do anyway. Actually, the whole concept of money is still a little strange to me.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get it. You’ve come so far already.”

“I feel that I have. That I’ve made good progress in adjusting to the world. But, Declan…do you ever imagine moving away from here? Living in a big city somewhere?”

“What? No. Never. I’d hate it. Why do you ask? Are you thinking of moving away, Angel?”

“I never want to live anywhere else, either. I want to stay here, where it’s quiet and safe. I know it’s that I’m still a bit afraid of the world. I think to some extent I always will be.”

“I’d be surprised if you were ever able to get used to the noise and the pace of a big city. Hell, I’d be surprised if
I
did. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He was looking down at her, his features soft and loose. That small spark of desire in his eyes that never dimmed entirely, but there was emotion, too.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him. “I made poached salmon for dinner.”

“I’m always hungry.”

His hands slid down to cup her bottom as he pulled her hips close to his. His hard flesh pressed against her. She arched her hips into his, felt that answering pulse of desire in her sex.

“Come on, Declan. Take me inside.”

“Mmm…can’t wait that long.”

He swept her down onto the porch stairs, somehow slipping her panties off from beneath her sundress as he went. She was ready, panting, when he unzipped his fly and she reached in to take his cock out. He was all warm, solid flesh in her hand. She wanted to taste him. But she needed him inside her just as badly.

“Come on, Declan.”

“Ah, you’re impatient, baby.”

“I am.”

She pushed her dress up and spread her thighs, leaning back on the stairs. He knelt before her, using his hands to part her thighs farther.

“So damn beautiful,” he murmured before bending over her and sweeping his tongue over her aching cleft.

“Oh…do it again.”

He did, his tongue sliding up, then down the seam of her sex. He parted her then, his thumbs spreading her flesh wide as he delved in with his tongue. He pressed it against her hole, and she whimpered with need, pure driving desire.

“Declan, don’t tease me.”

She grabbed his head, her fingers going into his dark hair, and held him to her while he licked her in long, flickering strokes.

“Oh…”

Her climax came down on her like a summer storm. Flashing through her body like heat lightning, sharp and electric. And before she was done he was leaning over her, his mouth latching on to her throat as he slipped his cock inside.

“Jesus, that’s so good. You feel so good, baby,” he murmured into her neck. “I love to feel how tight you are. How wet. I love it when you’re around me. Yeah, just like that.”

He drove into her, and the stairs were a little too hard, digging into her back. But she didn’t care. All she wanted was right here. In her body. Flesh to flesh.

She hung on to his shoulders, her nails digging in as he thrust harder and harder. Pleasure rose once more, and she came again, in short, sharp jolts.

“Ah, Declan!”

Then he was coming, his hips arching, hard and wild.

When it was over he kissed her neck, her face.

“Jesus, Angel.”

He was still panting, his body still covering hers so that she could feel the heaving of his chest against her breasts. She ran her hands over his sides, his buttocks, his strong thighs. He was so much a man. So solid.

“Declan?”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“No, I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying.”

Why did she feel like crying? She couldn’t explain it to herself.

“You’re saying you love me, and I’m saying I love you, and it’s all good.” He stroked her damp hair from her face, kissed her chin.

“Yes, but it’s more than that. I didn’t know how much more it could be. How precious you would be to me. How much your love and being able to trust you means to me.”

“Sweetheart…”

He kissed her again, a sweet brushing of his lips against hers. She knew he wasn’t as verbal as she was. Knew that men generally weren’t, or so Ruth had explained to her. But she felt it all in his touch.

After a while, they got up and went into the house, Liam pushing his way first through the screen door. Declan changed out of his work clothes while Angel went into the kitchen to finish making dinner. Declan’s cell phone, which he’d left on the kitchen table, went off.

“Declan, someone is calling you,” she called down the hallway.

“Who is it?”

“Your dad.”

“I’ll call him back in a minute.”

Her heart started to pound. Just a small murmuring beat that was a little too hard. She was still standing by the table, frozen, a wooden spoon in her hand, when Declan came into the kitchen.

“Angel? What is it? Did you talk to him? Is everything okay?”

“I… No, I didn’t talk to him. I don’t know if everything is okay.”

Declan’s brows drew together as he stepped toward her. He laid his hand across her back, his palm resting between her shoulder blades, over the two long scars there as he dialed Oran’s number.

“Dad? It’s me. You just called?”

He was quiet for several endless moments. She could hear Oran’s rumbling voice on the other end, just the low notes. She couldn’t hear what he was saying. Declan was nodding his head, but he wasn’t saying anything. But he was looking at her,
watching
her face.

“Jesus.” A long pause, and then he asked, “You’re sure, Dad?” Another pause. “This is great news. Incredible. Yes, I’ll tell her right now. Wait for Ruth? No, I don’t think so. This is good news. The best. Yeah. I’ll call you later. Thanks, Dad. Bye.”

He flipped the phone shut. His eyes were gleaming, his face flushed. He smiled, a wide, beatific smile.

“Angel, I have the most incredible news.”

She reached blindly for a chair, sat down. Why couldn’t she calm down? She felt as though her heart would beat right out of her chest.

Declan knelt in front of her, took her hands. “They found her. The Grandmother. They’ve got her. She tried to take another child, another little girl, those bastards. But because of an AMBER Alert they found her. And discovered the whole damn compound. The old woman, the whole lot of them. Nine people arrested in all. They’ve got her. They took her to jail. She’s going to be in there for the rest of her life.” He stopped, squeezed her hands. “Angel? You’re pale. Are you okay?”

She shook her head. She didn’t know how to answer him. She was…in shock. Grateful that a child had been saved from the years of punishment she’d endured. And horrified by the idea that The Grandmother was going to be locked up somewhere. Perhaps treated harshly.

“Angel? What is it?”

She wrenched her hands free and twisted them together in her lap. Tears crept over her cheeks. She could do nothing to stop them.

“Baby. You’re safe now. Really safe, finally. It’s okay.”

She shook her head, harder and harder until her hair flew in her face. “It’s not okay. Don’t you see?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“That old woman—she was all I had most of my life. Do you have any idea what that means to me? And you’re here celebrating.”

“But, Angel, after all the horrible shit she did to you…”

“Don’t you think I know that?” She hadn’t meant to yell, but the words simply came out that way. She tried to take a breath, but all she did was draw in a deep sob. “I can’t forgive her. But neither can I condemn her. It’s not in me to do that.”

Declan was quiet for several moments. She could hear his harsh breath. “I’m trying to understand. But this is crazy. She took you from your family. She drugged you. She
cut
you, for God’s sake. There are scars all over your body.” He pulled her hands into his, turned them faceup. “Look. She tattooed you, a child. You’ll wear these marks the rest of your life!”

She yanked her hands back, twisted them in her lap. She couldn’t look at him.

“She shoved a bunch of insane rhetoric down your throat along with the drugs,” he went on. “She told you your entire life’s purpose was to be some sex slave to Satan. How can you find anything even remotely forgivable there?”

“To forgive is divine,” she murmured, hiding her face in her hands.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t want to try. Her heart was breaking.

“Jesus, Angel. Okay. Okay. I get that. But isn’t there some small part of you that’s glad these people have been stopped? Made to pay for what they’ve done?”

“Stopped, yes. But punished? What purpose has punishment ever served, Declan? That part I do not understand.”

He got up, began to pace. Her stomach rolled, knotted. She felt sick.

“Angel. Shit. Finding these people has been my only purpose since I found you on that beach. Retribution. These people are monsters.”

“The Grandmother is not a monster. How can you say that? She raised me.”

“She abducted you from the people who should have raised you! From the family who loved you.”

“You don’t know that. We don’t even know them, the Norlings.”

“They’re your parents, Angel. Your brother. The only reason we haven’t contacted them is because you asked for more time. But they must have spent all these years grieving.”