Read Underworld Lover (A Guardian Angel Romance #2) Online
Authors: haron Hamilton
“I would like to have you watch over her for a few minutes, ten to twenty at the most.” Josh said. Melanie looked at him with a frown. “I am going to run a quick errand, love, and will be right back, okay?” Josh felt an awkward pause, as if Melanie considered he was abandoning her.
“Miss? What can I get for you?” The bartender’s request seemed to draw her away from her mood.
Josh kissed her on the cheek and was gone. Excitement was brimming; his head was swimming with ideas. This was going to be a wonderful night.
Melanie sipped on the red Merlot she had selected. She watched the afternoon sun pour gold light on the bright green vines. The sky was blue, with just a few clouds. She wondered what Father was doing. She wondered what kind of a place Heaven was, and she wondered why angels, who could live forever and do practically anything they wanted, would choose to live the mortal life of a human. And then she remembered Josh and how bored he had been with his immortality. It struck her how fragile her human life was. And she almost had lost it. Forever.
The wine felt good at the back of her throat. She sighed. Was it because she was in love that the colors were so vivid? Did everything smell and taste that much better than before just because Joshua was in her life? Did he have that effect on her? Or, did he awaken her to all her senses, heightening every experience? Her arms and her legs missed him just in the few minutes he was gone. Her heart lived for the chance to feel him next to her again.
“I’m back,” he said behind her. He extended his arm, showing off two dozen red roses. He leaned his chest against her back and kissed the side of her face.
She turned and accepted the roses with one hand, the other she threw around his neck. She drew herself up to his lips. The rich royal smell of the roses deliciously filled the air.
“You can do with these whatever you like.” Josh said as he put an errant lock of her blond hair behind one ear. “If you bury yourself in these petals, I shall pluck them off your body one by one—with my teeth.” Josh’s grin said he hoped she might pick that choice.
“I will never forget running into you that day,” she said.
“And what a lovely way to ruin three dozen red roses, love.”
Josh felt his heart sing. He paid the tab in front of a thoroughly confused Melanie, exiting the restaurant with a package from the kitchen in a white plastic bag.
“In case we get hungry later,” Josh whispered. The young bartender laughed and waved them goodnight.
“So tell me, what have you been doing for the past”— she looked at her watch—“oh, half hour?”
“I was moving Heaven and earth, what else do you think?”
She stopped. “I don’t want you to move anything other than me. And Joshua, you do move me.”
Their kiss lingered and smelled wonderful. She held the roses close to her side, almost crushing them as he slid an arm around her waist under her cotton top, touching her flesh, bringing her to the car.
They drove only a few hundred yards to a collection of buildings behind tall plaster walls covered with ivy in shades of green and deep red. The cobblestoned drive was lined with bright clumps of lavender and rosemary.
He took Melanie’s hand and entered the lobby of the Waterwheel Inn. Through the opened glass doors to the rear courtyard, a large waterwheel was turning slowly, suffusing the plaster walls of the greeting area and courtyard with cool and tranquil sounds. Josh always liked this place, had stayed here many times, but in solitude.
“I have never brought anyone here. This place is kind of special to me.”
The clerk behind the lighted desk asked if he had a reservation. Upon Josh’s confirmation, he said, “Oh yes, I see here. You have quite a nice package set up. You’ll be staying with us for two nights?”
Josh looked at the surprise in Melanie’s eyes. “Whatever the lady wants. If we stay longer, can you arrange it?”
“Certainly, sir. We don’t have a large party coming in until the weekend.”
“We’ll let you know, maybe tomorrow.” He bent his head and kissed Melanie’s lips. “And maybe the day after.” She softly melted into his body, a welcome reminder of their lovemaking in the past and the suggestion of what was in their future.
Melanie slipped by him into the lobby anteroom. She stood among the old maps of West Africa, India and the Holy Land that hung on the walls. Josh saw her bend down to look at the old journal and pen in the glass case, standing by itself in the middle of the room.
Josh finished with the clerk and joined her, standing next to the case. “I knew this man. He was a rascal and could drink like none other.”
“Who was he?”
“British explorer I befriended playing cards. We hung out at the same places.” Josh smiled down on Melanie, who answered his with one of her own. She was curious, he could tell.
“You knew him, knew this man who wrote in this sketchbook?”
Josh nodded. “His appetites…for everything, especially the women, rivaled mine in those days. I had only been a youngster then, barely one hundred years old when I found him in London in the 1850s. Rather sad, though.”
“Why?”
“He died too young. I missed him.”
Melanie looked around the room at the walls adorned with framed sketches and maps, drawn longhand. “Are all these his?”
“Most of them. Many nights I’d wait for him before we’d go out calling, so he could finish his journal—one very much like that one.” He pointed to the case. “But I haven’t seen this particular one. I’m told it has erotic pictures of a particular woman.”
“Did you turn him?”
“I wanted to. He was never the sort to consider suicide, although some would call his unnatural appetite for exploration a suicidal venture.” Josh smiled and added, “But man, we would have had fun.”
“Why is all this here?”
“A distant relative owns this place now. My old friend won it in a poker game in San Francisco, can you believe it?”
Melanie smiled, pressed her palm against the glass.
“He was going to move here, with the woman.”
“Who was she?”
“Didn’t know the lady. He kept her private.” Josh brought his hand up to the back of her neck and massaged her shoulders. She rolled her head around. “Thanks. That’s lovely.”
He was staring down at the pink of her flesh as it pressed into the glass. He was thinking about how pink she was when she was naked, and how he liked to explore the caverns and shadows of her body by candlelight. He remembered his friend telling him about the brown skinned beauties of India and Africa and about how in the bush he always looked them over by candlelight first, before he made love to them, telling them things about themselves they might not know, in a tongue they would never understand. Josh never forgot his erotic friend and the sadness he felt when he discovered the explorer had been lost at sea.
“Come.” He took her hand and led her around a gushing fountain, then meandered through stone paths and in front of the giant water wheel. Everywhere were overflowing pools, some containing fat koi who lazily swam through the cool waters without a care in the world.
They climbed stone steps to a balcony that led up to a large wooden door. Above the door was a striped canvas awning supported by black wrought iron stakes in the shape of spears. Josh turned her around to look over the red tiled rooftop of the inn at the valley floor across the road. Healthy green vines stretched almost as far as Josh could see. He felt her inhale sharply as they looked at the green lined velvet pattern covering the gently rolling hills, like fabric covering the soft curves of a woman. The afternoon sun was behind them, but the golden glow made him wonder if such sights were possible in Heaven. And he considered this day, this view, this woman a gift, and was happier than he had ever been.
“Does all this look different to you now, now that you aren’t a dark angel?” she asked.
Josh considered the question and wasn’t sure of the answer. “Everything is beautiful, now that you’re in my life,” he whispered in her ear as his arms encircled her waist from behind. Josh realized the difference was he no longer felt ownership of the human world. As a dark angel, he used to claim it. Now as a human, he enjoyed it. It was another gift in a day of miracles and gifts.
She sighed, leaning back into his body.
“Do you feel any different, love? In a way, we’ve both come back from the dead.”
“Grateful. I feel grateful.” Her answer mirrored his exactly.
“I agree,” he said.
“What did he talk to you about?”
“Who?”
“Father.”
“He asked a favor.”
“A favor?” Melanie turned to face him. He felt her concern.
“I told him I would be busy for the next few days, or until my woman tires of me.” He kissed her deeply.
“Josh,” she said as her eyes swept up to his and danced there, twinkling. “I hope he knows that isn’t going to be anytime soon.”
“Good. I am totally at your disposal, then.” He smiled as he felt the surging of her desire for him. “Father will have to wait.” He knew she liked his smile, felt the little shiver down her spine.
“Want to see the room?” he asked.
He took her to a protected balcony set up with an outdoor couch and two easy chairs. A fire pit stood in the center. He brought out a thick wooden key fob the size of a playing card. Painted by hand was a picture of the Queen of Hearts. He opened the door, marked only with a sign shaped like a crown.
“Welcome, my dear, to the bridal suite.” Josh pushed the door inward, revealing a large four-poster bed, a roaring fireplace, and a large carved antique wardrobe. Melanie appeared dwarfed when she entered the room. She inspected the furnishings and the palatial size of the room, her mouth hanging open. She looked up to the dark brown open-beamed ceiling, extending some twenty feet above her. Her hand smoothed over the plush tapestry fabric of the two high-backed chairs in front of the fireplace.
She walked into the bathroom, adjacent a large dressing area stuffed with an oversized antique bureau. Josh knew the pink marble for this bathroom had come from an abandoned English estate, sold off brick by brick. The bath, floor, and all four walls were covered all the way to the ceiling with it. Melanie touched the porous flesh of the marble. Its coloring matched her own, as if it was created to enhance the flesh of a woman with delicate white skin, like Melanie’s. Josh could envision her breasts pressed against the pink marble as he pleasured her from behind.
And then he started. It wasn’t his thought at all, but Melanie’s that had floated through his head. He was reading her emotions, picking up on her sexual energy, just as he had as a dark angel.
Did something go wrong with the reversal?
As he thought about it, he realized that all afternoon he had been hearing her thoughts, feeling her emotions before she had a chance to tell him anything.
Wonder if Father knows.
He decided he wouldn’t be the one to tell him, and smiled.
Another gift.
He also decided he wouldn’t tell her, see if he could show her through their lovemaking. It filled him with unspeakable pleasure.
Chapter 45
Josh loved his mortal life, time limit and all. Because it was rare, it became more precious to him. He could sit and watch Melanie take her clothes off, step in or out of the marbled shower for all eternity, yet he was now conscious he had no eternity. He now understood the choice Claire had made. And he had to agree with her; this was worth ten immortal lifetimes. He knew he would never have any regrets, unlike some of the angels he had turned.
It could be a short life, but Father said it would be a long one. They would watch each other age, and then perhaps one would have to go on without the other. In any manner or fashion, it was all good.
But today he looked at the woman draped in a fluffy white towel, fresh from the shower. Of all the sights he’d beheld in his three hundred years, he had never seen something so perfect, so beautiful. And the fact that she looked at him with longing in her eyes and passion in her soul, the passion he could feel just as if it were his own, brought him to his knees with love for her.
“We have a couples massage in” —he checked his watch as he felt her disappointment tickling his insides—“about fifty minutes.” He felt her calculate the time, decide they could make love quickly first. She wanted his lips on her sex. He smiled. Yes, he would love to oblige.
She backed up towards the bed, dropped the towel, and put her naked pink body under the covers, propping up the pillows behind her.
“I should shower too,” he said, teasing.
“You will not,” she answered.
“Then come help me. I want to be clean for you.” He came over to the bed, not allowing her to pull him in, as he read she had planned, and instead pulled her up and into his arms.
This is so unfair. Too much fun.
“I want to be clean for you, Melanie, as I taste your lovely cave. I want to get lost there.”
He felt the waves of warmth melt through her body and the little vibration between her legs. She allowed him to pull her body into the shower. Her beautiful full breasts rose and fell, calling to him. He soaped off with the lavender gel while she smoothed the muscles of his shoulder and back, pressing her breasts to him, rubbing the bubbles with a delicate hand that sent his erection through the warm water. And then she found him and squeezed the length of his hardness, kissing his back.
The water sluiced down both of them, removing all the bubbles, leaving the perfumed moist air draped around them both. He towel dried her first, then him. He picked her up and brought her to the bed. Her body was soft, compliant, reaching for him.
He remembered her vision. It came back again and he smiled, slowly spreading her knees, telling her with his eyes what he was going to do. She inhaled and looked up at the ceiling, placing her arms above her head.
Her sweet scent filled him. The taste of her juices was an elixir, driving his hardness, making him throb for need of her. She was moaning and writhing as he lapped with his tongue her soft pink peach, as he sucked and tasted her completely, until her breathing was ragged and her eyes glazed over.