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Authors: Demelza Carlton

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BOOK: The Holiday From Hell
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Luce pushed his chair away from the table, feeling unusually proud of himself. He'd booked their accommodation, made some dinner reservations and even planned a few activities that Mel might like. All he had left to do was make sure they were both packed and head down there. Just the two of them in his car on the open road.

He slipped into the bedroom, laying his suitcase on the floor so he could start packing. Maybe he could open the curtains just a little to let some light in without waking Mel. He glanced at her and met her open eyes. "How are you feeling?" Luce perched on the edge of the bed.

Mel sat up. "Better." She reached for his hand and he clasped her warm fingers. "Being with you helps. You're good for me, Luce."

He laughed. He wasn't good for anyone – that he knew for certain. But he was trying. "I'm sure it's the other way 'round. Are you ready for the best holiday ever?"

"My first holiday ever," Mel confessed.

"Mine, too. But I don't need it anywhere near as much as you do. I swear I'll take care of you, Melody."

"I know you will and that's why I'm here. Not London, not Japan, not Heaven, but here with you." Mel's trusting smile lifted Luce's heart.

Before it crashed and burned. This time yesterday, he'd have believed he was the best one for her. He could do anything. Now, thanks to that damned imp, he wasn't even sure he could drive them to their destination without getting lost. Mel deserved better. He'd BE better – but would he be good enough? Or would she leave him and head somewhere else, to hook up with other angels who knew her better than he did? Who could take care of her better than he could, in every way possible?

"I should pack," he said, striding into the walk-in wardrobe.

"And I should freshen up," Mel replied.

When he returned to the bedroom with an armful of clothes, the freshly-made bed was empty and he could hear the shower raining onto the tiles. He ached to join her in the bathroom, to feel the flow of hot water over their close-pressed bodies as he kissed her, as he caressed her…

No. Luce forced himself to fold clothes into his suitcase instead. No matter how much he wanted her, she was tired and needed rest. And he was afraid he wouldn't be good enough for her, a small voice in the back of his mind said. It sure as Hell wasn't his voice.

"Lord remain indebted for eternity," Sptlk sniggered, perching on the lid of Luce's suitcase. "Must repay Lady. Learn better." Luce caught a glimpse of the image of Mel's rapturous, flushed face before the imp brushed it away. "Give Lady joy. Debt repaid."

"Last night you said I couldn't fulfil Mel's desires. Now you say I can, but I have to learn how? Make up your damn mind and quit messing with Mel. She has enough trouble from her own kind. Reverse what you did yesterday and then leave. I don't want to see you in…the place where we're going." Luce glared at the imp.

Sptlk flashed his needle-like teeth in what Luce presumed was meant to be a smile. "Not without Lady's order. Must ask Lady."

Tell Mel his self-confidence, his prowess in bed, his pride, all of it…was just an illusion that the imp had stolen from him and now he wanted it back? When the only way he could learn to share their bond was without them? No way in Hell. He just had to learn faster. Once he'd mastered this soul communication thing, then he could tell her and ask for all that back. But not before.

Sptlk's smile widened as he observed Luce's dilemma. The calculating look in his eyes hardened. "No illusions, then. Leave…perhaps. What price Lord pay for privacy?"

Luce's mind went blank. "I don't know. Everything I do right now is for Mel. Only Mel." He felt incredibly weary – like Mel seemed to be. "You know, to Hell with it. Watch if you want to. Laugh and get off and share me as one big joke with all your mates. I wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of a burned-out angel, let alone one as precious as Mel, but I'm damn well going to try to do the best I can for her. I won't be the Lord of Hell for much longer. As soon as Mel finds something better for me to do, you'll get someone else to make bargains with. Maybe someone who wants to seduce more people than I could. Hell, maybe even someone with more stamina." He wrenched open his sock drawer and threw pairs into the suitcase.

One almost hit Sptlk, but he stepped aside just in time. "Will leave. Will not appear while Lady…recovers. Will check. Lord must restore Lady. Lady…precious indeed."

"You're saying you'll leave us alone, provided I help Mel?" Luce didn't believe it.

Sptlk nodded sharply. "Restoration gift to Lady. Lady…is loved." The imp vanished.

Bloody cryptic creature. What in Hell did it mean? He was in love with Mel, too? Wasn't Sptlk a demon, like he used to be? How in Hell could it love anyone?

Luce dumped a pile of underwear on top of the socks and savagely zipped the suitcase closed. At least he wouldn't have any imps watching over his shoulder as he struggled to take care of Mel. What had he gotten himself in for? The Lord of Hell was best at corrupting souls, not restoring them. He hadn't a hope in Hell of succeeding.

Perfection herself appeared in the bedroom. Beauty personified. Creamy-gold curves like the most heavenly body Luce had ever seen, lit by the same pearly glow as Heaven's gates. He'd never be able to look at another woman again without comparing her to this paragon no one could match.

Mel's laughter bubbled infectiously. "Luce, you're staring at me as if you've never seen a naked woman before, and I know that's not true. Not to mention how well you know this body." Her hands cupped her breasts and Luce's breath caught in his throat.

He wasn't worthy to touch her – probably not even to look at her. Every inch of her was flawless, from the damp strands of hair that hung over unfathomably deep, grey eyes to her perfectly formed, pink toes. He loved her, but he'd never seen her look like this before. Had she somehow recovered as she slept and this was the result? He was dying to touch her, to see if the Mel he was seeing was real or just an illusion.

Wait. Illusion…in the absence of illusions, this was Mel in her true form. The imperfections he'd always seen were the illusion. If he squinted, he could even see the faint blur of her wings, but he didn't want to, because the white feathers would obscure the vision before him.

The bloody imp knew it. He could take the illusions and all his insecurities would vanish…but he'd never see Mel like this. Or he could have his perfect angel and not have the guts to touch her, let alone anything else.

"Luce." Damn, she looked like she'd been calling him for a while. Mel smiled when he finally met her eyes. "I asked if you were going to tell me where we're going, or is it a surprise?"

"I want to surprise you," he replied.

How had he missed her getting dressed? Her perfect breasts were now hidden inside a t-shirt that stretched over what looked like a lace-edged bra, if he recognised the outline right. And those spectacular legs were encased in thick denim as she buttoned her jeans.

"But how will I know what to pack? Will I need ski clothes, wet weather gear, my swimsuit…"

"I could pack for you," he said eagerly. He'd pack her skimpiest underwear and sexiest clothing, so he could admire her assets every waking moment.

Mel blushed as if she was reading his thoughts. Uneasily, Luce wondered if she was. "No, Luce, I should do that."

Ah, Hell. There went the idea of a complete surprise. "Pack…for weather like here." When she opened her mouth to ask something else, he added, "Pack clothes as if I were taking you to some luxury hotel here in Perth for the next month, and we'd walk through Kings Park every day. I'm not, but –" he winked "– that's all you'll get out of me until we arrive at our destination."

Mel nodded slowly. "All right. You're being awfully mysterious, my love, but I trust you." A peculiar sound, like a muffled flock of lorikeets, squeaked from her mid-section. "Oh, um…what did you say was for breakfast?"

Breakfast? Hell, he'd completely forgotten. "I'll go out and get some muffins or something while you pack," Luce said and hurried out. He opened the front door and stubbed his toes on the big basket right outside. He tore off the piece of paper wrapped around the handle and tried to make sense of the scrawl. "Picnic brunch for two," he read, skimming over the numbers and the restaurant letterhead until he reached the words at the bottom. "Get well soon."

Snorting, he hefted the basket inside and set it on the dining table. It looked like Mel had made an impression on someone – but the unforgiving chef had still made her point in giving them no trolley, or crockery or cutlery to return, he found as he started pulling things out of the basket. He headed into the kitchen for the necessary items.

Luce returned to the dining room just in time to see Mel sink her teeth into an almond croissant. She swallowed what was evidently a delicious mouthful, judging by her expression, before she opened her eyes.

"Fresh croissants. You're wonderful, Luce." She kissed his cheek and dusted off the icing sugar she'd left behind.

He grinned. "Not yet. I still have to make you a coffee and I know exactly how you like it."

As Luce accelerated past the airport off-ramps, Mel folded her arms. "I guess I don't need my passport, then."

Luce paused to swear under his breath at the stupid human drivers who didn't understand how to merge into freeway traffic before he replied, "Was that what you wanted? I can turn us around and fly you anywhere in the world if you want. Just say the word, Mel." They weren't even there yet and he'd messed up already.

Mel laughed lightly. "No, I trust that whatever you have in mind will be wonderful. I just had you pegged as the billionaire with a private island sort of holiday planner. And you did mention a luxury hotel."

"We could be driving to where the luxury ship's moored that will take us to a private island…" Luce began.

"We could," Mel agreed. Her enigmatic smile drove all thoughts of continuing the conversation out of Luce's head, so he concentrated on overtaking the tiny hatchback whose owner seemed to have misread the speed limit as seventy instead of a hundred.

Her expression didn't change as they sped south, though her eyes took in everything outside the car. After a couple of hours, the radio dissolved into static, so he switched it off. Mel said nothing, if she even noticed. She seemed too busy looking at the endless repetition of paddocks and trees outside her window.

By the time they hit Bussell Highway, Luce was dying to know what Mel was thinking. He could see the building excitement in her eyes and he desperately prayed he'd made the right decision. She looked startled when he turned onto a road between two paddocks, but still she didn't say anything. Signs pointed to the chocolate company and Luce slowed down, but he didn't stop until he'd passed it, when the road ended and he needed to turn. He grinned when Mel stared at him.

"We can go there first thing tomorrow. I want to show you where we'll be staying first. Don't worry, I know how much you love chocolate and I wouldn't deny you the pleasure." He chuckled.

Mel pressed her lips together and maintained her silence, but her smile returned, along with a faint blush.

A few minutes later, he turned again and the tyres grated across gravel as he negotiated the narrow track that led into the bush. The sign said it was the right place, but it didn't look like much. Maybe he should have booked that luxury hotel in the middle of town, but he wanted privacy with Mel. If they got a poky hotel room, however luxurious, it would be smaller and closer to people than in his penthouse. They might as well have stayed home.

They bumped down the road until they reached a modern concrete building that was the same shade of orange as the gravel. Luce parked and strode around the car to open Mel's door for her before offering a hand to help her out.

"Thank you," she said as she took his hand. She laced her fingers through his as she stood beside him. "Are we going in?"

Luce nodded and pushed open the glass door.

He heard Mel take a deep breath as she stepped inside. "Mmm, sugar, red wine and…ooh, nougat. What are we here for?"

"All of it, if you want," Luce replied. Together, they approached the counter.

Two couples were tasting wine as a man wearing casual clothes and a gardening tool-belt – complete with secateurs – leaned on the counter and offered them more wine. "Be right with you," he told Luce before turning his attention back to the others.

Ten minutes later, the couples staggered to their cars under the weight of their boxes of wine and Luce stepped up to the counter.

"What would you like to taste first?" the man asked, setting two clean glasses on the counter.

Melody's lips. The thought hit Luce out of the blue and he struggled not to blurt it out.

"What do you recommend?" Mel asked, wearing her sweetest smile.

The man poured and described the wines, one by one, from the fresh-flavoured white through the strong reds. By the time they reached the chili wine that Luce almost choked on, he'd lost the plot somewhere between the tannins, oaks and berries.

"What do you call this?" Luce asked hoarsely, pointing at the chili one.

"That's part of our Lost Plot range," the man said.

Mel laughed. "I can see why. I'd like to buy some. Is that all right, Luce?"

Since when did she need his permission for anything? "Buy as much as you like, Mel. If it doesn't fit in the car or we don't drink it while we're here, we'll ship it home. We'll be here a month – you can come back down here whenever you like."

The man seemed to understand something he hadn't before. "Are you Mr Iblis?"

Luce nodded. "I'm Luce Iblis. I've booked your honeymoon apartment."

It was Mel's turn to choke.

Luce slipped an arm around her waist. "If you don't like it, we'll go somewhere else. Anywhere you want, I promise."

The man cleared his throat. "There aren't any refunds if you cancel within four weeks of your stay." He looked smug. "But once they've seen it, no one's ever said they don't like it."

Luce shrugged. "Time to show us, then. Where's this secluded retreat?"

The man laughed and pointed. "Upstairs."

He led the way outside and up the stairs that Luce had thought led to a rooftop deck. He was half right – the loft apartment did have veranda decking, with French doors opening out onto the balcony, beside a wrought iron table and chairs. The man handed the key to Mel and invited her to unlock the door.

She looked like she thought it was a joke, but she turned the key and pushed the door open. Luce stepped inside right behind her, so he heard her first gasp. Mel spun on the spot and threw her arms around his neck. "You're wonderful, Luce. This place is perfect." She followed this up with a wonderful, perfect kiss that Luce personally thought was much better than the luxury, open plan apartment with views across the winery. Even with the spa big enough for both of them.

The man behind them said, "I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'm Greg – I own the place. If you need anything, just drop into the tasting room downstairs between ten and five. After five, you'll have the whole place to yourself, but when the tasting room's open…well, you might want to keep the windows closed if you don't want anyone knowing what you're doing." Greg's eyebrows seemed to say he knew what they'd be doing, all the same.

"Thank you." Mel beamed at him and he left.

Luce wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I wanted something secluded so you could relax properly without too many people around. So we could… I looked for retreats and honeymoon accommodation because I figured they'd give us privacy. This is our first holiday and I don't want to share it with a bunch of humans. Just you."

Mel shook her head gently. "It doesn't matter where we are. You could have put us up in a dorm at the backpackers hostel in town. As long as we're together, it will still be a wonderful holiday. But this…this…" She waved at the apartment. "You couldn't take better care of me if you tried, Luce. Like I said, it's perfect."

Luce grinned. "I'll go get our bags then, shall I? While you work out the most comfortable place to sit and admire the view."

BOOK: The Holiday From Hell
12.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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