Voluptuous Vindication (10 page)

Ian ignored her, holding her securely as he moved up the steps and into the house. With one foot, he slammed the door behind them. “I called ahead and had my housekeeper to prepare the house. Her name is Maria, although I doubt you will see much of her. It's better for your safety to keep you hidden.”

He started up a grand staircase, but her next words stopped him. “Please, I don't want to be put in a room. I can't stand to be closed off.” She was too tired and sick to continue, but she couldn't imagine being in a small space, especially when she was already having problems breathing.

“Okay,” he drawled out, but his tone wasn't unkind. Turning, he made his way down a hallway and into a room. The lights came on automatically. It was a bathroom, far larger than most of the rooms she'd spent the mortal parts of her life in.

Ian stopped and stood her on the floor. Kneeling down next to her feet, he grabbed the elastic waistband of her pants and eased them down to her ankles before seating her on the toilet. Her face flared red, but she didn't protest. Nature was not only calling, it was screaming. 

“I'm going to step out in the hallway. Call me when you're done.”

Finishing and flushing, Sara managed to stand and pull her pants back up. The world lurched and spun, her body so consumed with fighting the illness, there was nothing left to sustain her strength.
So much for fixing to do something so great that the entire realm of Hell was after her.
She couldn't even manage to walk right. “Ian?” She called, her voice so hoarse most wouldn't have heard it.

Pushing the door open, he stepped into the room. His expression grew dark at seeing her standing. Shaking his head, he picked her back up. “Rule number one, Angel. Always follow my instructions, no matter how unnecessary they might seem. You could have fell and hurt yourself bad. Then, where would you be?”

For a moment, Sara imagined his words to be an endearment. His voice was so strong, so masculine. She wanted to relax in his arms and listen to him talk forever. Her lips eased into a dreamy smile.

“Damn, your fever is coming back up,” Ian said, sounding far above her. He moved quickly, the draft they created causing her to shiver once more. Carrying her into a living room, he eased her on the couch. “I'll be right back.”

Sara barely had time to notice the floor to ceiling glass windows and elegant, comfortable furnishings before he returned. His arms were full of blankets and pillows. Within a minute, he had her bundled, her sore body laid out comfortably on the extra-large couch.

Ian stood up from where he had finished tucking the blanket around her. He turned to leave, but Sara's words stopped him. “Please, don't leave me,” she managed to say painfully. This time there wasn't a flicker of embarrassment. She felt too poorly to mind, and too scared to be alone in her weakness.

He looked down at her, an undefinable expression crossing his attractive features. “I'll be back in a moment,” he finally replied, his eyes traveling slowly across her. “I need to get your fever medications, and fluids for you to drink.”

Sara closed her eyes in relief. The Endurer wasn't going to leave her, she wouldn't have to be alone. Despite his bad attitude, Sara had no doubts he could keep her safe, be it from the illness or a demon.

She settled against the pillow, dozing immediately. Sara never heard him leave the room.

Chapter 6

Four days had passed by, but finally the illness was leaving the woman he'd been ordered to guard. Sara sat on the couch, reclined against the pillows as she watched the large screen television. She was addicted to one channel, and unfortunately, he'd been forced to watch movie after movie geared specifically toward women.

Rolling his eyes and praying for the strength to endure more of the torture, he thought back over the last few days. With the exception of her illness, protecting Sara hadn't been as bad as he'd expected. The majority of the time she'd slept.

And so had he. Ian had slept in the living room with her, rarely leaving her side. Although his home was protected, there was always a loophole. The recliner had become his bed. As comfortable as it was, he was sick of it.

Sara's fever had broke that morning, and it hadn't returned. Although weak, she'd been awake for most of the day, and her appetite was returning. It was time to move her into a room, one with a real bed.

Sara's fever was breaking, but his was just starting. The attraction he felt for her continued to grow. It simmered beneath the surface, the memory of the night he'd awoke her never leaving his thoughts. His body was biding its time, waiting for her to recuperate.

Going to bed with him would be taxing enough. Ian was a man of huge sexual appetites, appetites that hadn't been fed in a long, long time. With her lusty, full-figured body, she'd be the perfect woman to release himself in.

His erection pushed against his pants painfully, but the pain was a welcome relief. She was the first woman he'd desired since the New Orleans ordeal, and he was determined to have her. It was obvious she was attracted to him as well, even disappointed when he'd refused her before. Both of them were adults, not looking for lingering attachments. In less than a month, she wouldn't even be of this world. There was no reason why he couldn't combine this business with a lot of pleasure... For both of them.

“Ian,” She asked, her lilting voice pulling him from his lusty thoughts. “Would I be able to take a bath tonight”

He stared at her, nodding his head. The illness had left its temporary mark on her features, her face still pale and tired looking. Her long hair was tangled and limp, the luscious blonde somewhat faded. He was certain time, good food, and good sex would bring her back to rights. Just not tonight. She was still recovering. “I think that can be arranged. You're still weak, but I'll assist you.”
Heaven help me.

Sara looked back at the television. “Thank you, but I believe I can manage.”

“Why not?” He asked, completely puzzled. He watched her carefully. If he didn't know better, he'd believe she was shy. “I'm no different than one of the maids you must have had on your past assignments.” Before the mid-1800's, no woman of quality had been without one. Their maids had assisted them with everything, from bathing to dressing.

Sara cleared her throat. “Actually, you're a lot different. If you could just run the water, I'm sure I can manage. I don't expect that your Endurer duties extends to that, and I'm sure you could use a much-needed break yourself.”

Ian continued to watch her, puzzled at her cool behavior. It was quite a switch from the woman that had grinned against his cock, less than a week before. The answer finally dawned on him.
So, even angels knew how to play hard to get.
Sara was being coy, a participant in an ancient game between male and females from the beginning of mortal time. He'd been out of the game for awhile, but he was quickly remembering the rules.

Ian smiled, his thoughts on his next move. No matter how modern women might become, they still wanted a male stronger than them, with a voracious sex drive and a hard cock that never failed to please them. A man's determination to have her was what won a woman's passion, they wanted to be pursued and expertly taken. In a world full of weak men, too lazy and selfish to put out any true effort, there were plenty of opportunities to be had.

He didn't want just any woman, though. He was determined to have this one, a woman not even of this world. Only Sara could ease the fire in his shaft, giving him the earth-shattering release his body so desperately craved. Little did she know, but her game was already over. What Ian wanted, he got, and he wanted her. It was already a done deal.

They still had weeks left. Ian planned on indulging himself within her plump curves often, releasing his seed until he'd spent every bit of this unexplainable desire. Then she'd be gone, moving into another realm, leaving him behind to continue the life he used to enjoy.

Ian pushed aside the twinge that shot through him at her impending departure. “You'll have your bath, but I'll be close by,” he warned, his tone allowing no argument. “I'll get a break when you depart. I don't consider my duties as an Endurer a hardship.” Especially, when they involved seeing Sara nude and wet.

His mind locking onto the mental image, he asked thickly, “When do you want to do this?”

“After the movie,” Sara replied, not looking away from the television. He attributed the terseness in her tone to the lingering illness.

“Good,” he replied, standing up. “I'm going to prepare you something to eat.” Ian had been feeding her often. He wanted her well-nourished and strong, her body healed as soon as possible. Bedding a weak, emaciated female held no interest for him.

He looked around the couch, assured that she had everything she needed. He'd moved a small refrigerator into the living room, making it easy for her to get fluids. He'd also set a trash can, a three-tiered shelf, and even magazines close by. Everything from tissues to the thermometer was on the shelves, within easy reach. “Do you need anything else while I'm gone?”

“No, thank you,” Sara replied stiffly. Her manner was formal, but her body was anything but. Her nipples were hardened underneath the pajama shirt she wore, the musk of her arousal subtle in the air. Sara's body was burning in need, and by the smell of it, burning hard. He wondered how long she'd be able to hold out, as aroused as she was. Not long. He wasn't even sure she'd be able to wait for him to overtake her.

Ian turned, his lips easing into a full-blown grin as he walked out of the room.
Let the games begin.
Victory was sweet, and he was already anticipating his. He was going to send this hot-tailed angel back to Heaven with memories that she'd think about for an eternity.

* * * * *

Sara leaned back against the bathroom door with a sigh. Waiting until Ian was busy in the kitchen, she'd taken her bag and made her way slowly into the bathroom. Her cheeks burned with heat, but it wasn't the fever she was recuperating from. It was lust, pure and simple.

The thought of the gorgeous Endurer bathing her had been too dangerous to consider. Part of her wanted to be naked in front of him, regardless of the consequences. It was that part of her that scared her most of all.

Having sex was impossible for angels. It simply wasn't allowed, and the consequences were severe. She hadn't heard of any angel breaking the code, at least, not in thousands of years. If there was ever a being capable of making her consider it, though, it would be Ian. Ian was a man that could tempt the panties off of an angel, and she meant that in the literal sense.

Her thoughts grew wistful, even sad. For all of her fanciful thinking, Ian had made it crystal clear he wasn't the least interested in her physically. For that, she should be grateful. Laying the bag down on the counter, Sara began to undress. If he could make her react like this,  and he wasn't interested, she doubted she'd survive any real attraction from him.

Stopping, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Looking in the mirror was always startling to Sara. It was almost like seeing a stranger, but it shouldn't have been. Her mortal form never changed. The woman that stared back at her was pale, her skin unblemished. Her eyes were wide and shiny, but something about her expression had an air of sadness about it. Had she ever been fully happy, or was she simply
existing
?

Sara wasn't glamorous, and she wasn't thin. She also wasn't rich, so some might say she'd lost out on all counts. It wasn't what she believed, though. Her body was as it was meant to be. Soon enough, it wouldn't matter anyhow. She'd either be dead or back in the supernatural realm, where physical forms weren't allowed.

Dying for the cause didn't bother her. Dying without completing her duties did. Her task would be important, it always was. Somewhere out there was a soul earmarked for divine intervention, and she was nothing more than the tool to deliver it. Without her assistance, though, that soul would be in jeopardy. Failure was not an option.

Forcing herself to think about cleaning up, and away from the appeal of Ian's oh-so-delicious form, Sara finished undressing. Starting the shower, she waited for the water to heat up. Maybe she'd get lucky enough to be finished before he was done in the kitchen.

The shower was pure luxury, comfortable only in the way that came from money... And lots of it. It was huge and fully stocked, and Sara sighed as she stepped underneath the hot spray of water. Her mortal body was tiring, so lingering wasn't a possibility.

Grabbing the shampoo, her thoughts turned to her upcoming task. Sara had no idea what it would be, but that was normal. What wasn't normal was finding her very existence in danger. This world wasn't safe for anyone, not anymore. The floodgates to Hell were open, and demons were rushing in. Things were so far gone that remaining in secret no longer mattered.

Demons hated goodness with everything they had in them. It didn't matter if it involved angels or humans. They were constantly plotting and planning, doing everything within their powers to wipe out anything that was pure. They were completely at home with death, torment, misery, and pain. It fed them, making the powers of darkness even stronger.

Seeing this through could likely be lethal for her. Demons had an advantage that she didn't have, but somehow she had to survive long enough to finish this last task. With the world in the state it was in, Sara doubted she'd have any future assignments on earth.

That was assuming she survived. If she died, she'd simply cease to exist. Eternity would be snuffed out for her. Demons were the only beings strong enough to kill angels. In the unseen realm, battles were constantly fought. Some battles were fought right next to an unaware mortal as angels fought to protect them. Where there was good and evil, there would always be battles.

Sara had been in her share of fights, but on earth it was different. Here she didn't have the weapons she had there, or the strength needed to wield them. She wished she did, though. 

Rinsing, she squeezed her hair out and conditioned it. She'd learned long ago to untangle her long, thick locks in the shower with conditioner on. Using her pick, she went to work on the mass. In her currently weakened state, it felt like a battle of epic proportions.

Just as she picked up the bar of soap, Ian banged on the door. Startled, she dropped it, her heartbeat accelerating just knowing he was so close. “Yes?” She asked, hoping he couldn't hear the faint quiver in her tone. It wasn't fear, it was anticipation, and the knowledge of that fact had her blushing scarlet again.

“Open the door,” he demanded. His tone was brusque but also petulant. “You shouldn't be showering alone.”

“Why not?” Sara countered, quickly washing her body. “I've never not showered alone, and I was bathing long before you were ever born.”

He chuckled, the rich and sensual tone washing over her. Her skin tightened, the spray of water sharp against her suddenly-sensitive flesh. “Let me in, Sara, and I'll be happy to demonstrate why you shouldn't be in there by yourself.”

Unsure of his meaning, she shampooed her hair as she thought about his words. Was he going to show her how easy it was for demons to take her? As ill as she'd recently been, she wasn't up for the reminder.  “I'm almost done. I'll call you if I need you.” Which would only be if she were sprawled out on the floor.

As much as she desired Ian, she wouldn't make a fool of herself again. He was sophisticated and experienced, while she was shy, with no experience. He was way out of her league, in every single way imaginable... And he wasn't afraid to remind her of it. Avoiding him was the only way to maintain her control.... And self-esteem. Sara didn't need him to tell her again how uninterested he was.