Wicked Angel (2 page)

“I’m not testing you.”

Lana pulled her hair out of his grasp. “Then why these questions? What do you want?”

His blue gaze lowered to her mouth. “I’ll have what I want soon enough. Enjoy the party.” With that, he turned and walked away from her, leaving her staring at those magnificent wings. And terrified in a wickedly delicious way.

The trill of the phone wrenched Lana from a deep sleep at one a.m. on Friday. A stab of panic made her bolt upright in bed and reach for the phone on the nightstand, praying this wasn’t an emergency call from her parents.

The caller ID read NYSA, allowing her to release a sigh of relief. “Hello?”

“Lana Kinley?” inquired a male caller.

“Speaking.”

“This is Mouric from angel headquarters. I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, but we need your services right away.”

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she replied, “Angel hurt?”

“Yes. Julien. Looks like a second degree burn on the wing.”

Her heart gave an anxious skip at the sound of his name. She hadn’t seen him since the gala almost two weeks ago. Since his parting comment had sent her senses spinning and had her wondering if he was playing with her. But she’d decided that Julien wasn’t the sort who played games. Not head games, anyway.

She gave herself a mental shake. A second-degree burn meant that the Ahkran had just grazed him. Third-degree burns were more common.

“If I catch a cab right away, I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” The building was located on the other side of the city—Upper East on Lexington Avenue.

“Okay. Go to reception and tell them who you are.” The line went dead.

Twenty minutes later Lana walked through the front doors of the towering gothic building of the angel headquarters. Her flat sandals tapped softly on the white marble floor as she crossed to the reception desk. Two well-groomed angels greeted her, one male the other female.

“My name is Lana Kinley. I’ve been called to see Julien.”

“He’s expecting you. Take the elevator to the twentieth floor,” the male angel said with efficiency.

“Thank you. Oh, is there a room number?”

“No.”

In her haste to get here, she’d barely had time to select her clothing properly, throwing on a pair of jeans and a khaki tank top. She looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall and tucked her bra strap under the top. Her hair fell past her shoulders in thick, sleep-tousled waves. A rosy hue dotted her cheeks but she knew that wasn’t from sleep. Her palm dampened as she clutched the emergency kit. No other man unsettled her like Julien. Yet that same feeling he produced drew her to him. She craved just one night with him...well, maybe two. It could only be a fling. Angels only paired for life with angels, could only procreate with their own race.
Right.
She looked at the longing in her eyes in the mirror and pushed out a frustrated sigh
. Not right!
An angel like Julien could ruin her for a regular guy. She guessed he had about a hundred years of sexual experience—could only imagine what mind-blowing naughty skills he knew. And if she were really honest, her heart could likely suffer some heartache in the aftermath of any type of relationship with him.

The corridor on the twentieth floor was softly lit and short. A private floor, hence, no need for a room number. She walked to the single black door and rang the bell.

Almost immediately, the door swung open and she looked into the pale eyes of an angel who carried the essence of old age and wisdom. Although angels showed few signs of aging, the years of immortality grew in their souls. Old angels were highly revered. She hesitated, uncertain how to greet him.

He smiled and motioned for her to come in. “Welcome, Lana.”

He was Mouric. She recognized his voice from the phone call.

She followed the old angel through the elegant condo until they reached a bedroom. Sitting on the edge of an enormous bed was Julien, sporting that trademark, mischievous smile. And, God help her, he was topless. Even motionless as he was, she sensed the powerful ripple of his sculpted muscles. Awareness fluttered through her like a swarm of electric butterflies.

“Hello, Lana,” he said, his keen eyes taking in her appearance with one sweep. “I apologize for dragging you out of bed.” He seemed sincere, yet the teasing flicker in his eyes told her he didn’t feel too bad about it.

“No problem. It’s my job.” She attempted a composed expression as she set the emergency kit on a medical tray that had been rolled out. As she opened the kit and began pulling out various items, she took in the dominant furnishings on the side of the room she was facing. Heavy velvet and pale silk curtains partly drawn across two high windows overlooking the city. A huge armoire in a shade of deep brown. A large coffee table flanked by two elegant armchairs with curved backs, tailored to accommodate wings. It all seemed larger than life. Like the angel watching her from the bed.

Lana disinfected her hands with an antiseptic and approached him, struggling to block out the stirrings of her body.

“Where are you hurt?” she asked, trying not to stare at his bare chest.

He spread his left wing to display the injury. A two-inch-wide burn wound near the top curve toward his back. Most angels were able to withstand the attack and continue fighting, but the injury needed treatment.

Apart from the bloodied and blackened feathers at the wound site, the rest of his wing was breathtaking. The unique shade of silver against white gave each plume an ethereal glow and the tips of the primaries were dove-gray.

She examined the wound. “This is treatable. There will be no scarring. “

There was a rustle of feathers as Mouric moved. “I’ll leave you to your task then,” he said.

Lana gave a half-absent nod as she watched the old angel exit the room.
Shit. Alone with Julien.

She moistened a cotton ball with the antiseptic and cleansed the wound.

“You fear me,” Julien said with a hint of amusement.

She bristled. “No, I don’t.” Then reconsidered. No point lying. “Well, maybe a little, but it’s mostly awe...never seen such beautiful wings...”
Or such a hunk of an angel.
Lana dispensed with the cotton ball and said, “I’m going to press my hand to the wound to transfer energy to the site. I need you to be still.”

“As you wish,” came the smooth response.

The location of the wound was such that she had to curve her other hand behind his neck to get the proper angle. It caused her breast to brush up against a rock-hard pec. His body tensed as a low groan rumbled in his throat. Her nipple tightened and she clenched her jaw. On top of it, he smelled of earth and a subtle, exotic spice that sent a current of heat to every erogenous zone in her body.

Focus, Lana.
When she felt his gaze on her, she said, “Could you look somewhere else, please?”

He chuckled, a deep sound that rolled through her like rich velvet. “I was admiring the gold in those lovely brown eyes. It reflects the light in a most unusual way.”

His comment stroked the female part of her ego, but she raised her gaze up to the ceiling pointedly. His body shook with a quiet laugh and he finally respected her request. Lana closed her eyes and shifted her energy into the injury, which would soothe the discomfort and accelerate the healing process. About twenty seconds later, she removed her hand.

He flexed his wing. “It feels better already. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” She blushed at her choice of words.

“Mmm...” His mouth tugged into a wider grin.

I have to get out of here.
She crossed the few feet to the tray and cleaned her hands again, then picked up a small jar and a cotton swab. She applied a thin coat of the burn ointment to the injury.

“I’ll leave you this ointment. Cleanse the wound with antiseptic before applying it as I just did. Once a day for four days.” She placed the jar on the tray.

Julien spread his other wing out, making her breath catch.

“Touch it.”

Surprise made her lips purse before she gave him a disapproving look. “I shouldn’t.” Angels generally didn’t allow people to touch their wings. Of course, that wasn’t the real reason she didn’t want to touch him.

“You want to.”

Too damn perceptive.

She lifted her chin to enforce her refusal but the glint in his eyes was resilient...and magnetic. She was no match for him. With a defeated sigh, she reached out to brush her hand over the smooth feathers. They were unlike bird feathers, more like luxurious, silky down.

“Beautiful...” The word slipped from her lips like a whisper. The nature of her job had allowed her to touch angel wings but not caress them. Pressing harder, she felt the muscled tissue underneath. Her body longed to lean into him and feel the protection of his wings. She resisted the urge to press her mouth to the feathers. His low rasp yanked her back to reality. She forced her legs to move and began collecting her things. Her job was done.

She closed the emergency kit and took a few steps in the direction of the door before pausing to meet his gaze. “Don’t overtire your wing for the next few days. Good night, Julien.” Every cell in her body screamed in protest as she made for the door.

“You’re leaving even though you crave what I can offer you?”

She froze and swallowed the lump in her throat, yet she kept her back to him.

“I asked for you tonight, Lana.”

She processed this slowly. “Why me? There are many good healers.”

A whisper of wings and she felt his body’s heat behind her. Her pulse jumped as sexual tension coiled around them. His warm breath fanned her temple as his hands grasped her waist.

“For one thing, you’re an excellent healer...and for another...” He pressed his erection between her butt cheeks, the size of it making her gasp. “...I rarely bed humans, Lana. But you tempt me like no other human female.” His response was a soft growl that made her knees wobble.

She shut her eyes and melted into his powerful body as his hand slid up between her breasts and curved about her throat. The predatory action spiked her arousal.
You tempt me too, Julien.

“I’ve wanted to take you since I first saw you. Have you at least two, three days straight.”

The emergency kit slipped from her fingers and landed with a thud on the carpet. She turned around and met his gaze straight on. The blue-black flame in his eyes lit her nerve-endings on fire. The message there was clear, his verbal message even clearer, yet Lana felt that awful jab of insecurity, unsure whether she could please him. He was an angel, an immortal used to mating with his own kind. How could she possibly...

She traced the full curve of his mouth with an unsteady finger. “Julien, I’m not sure...I mean...”

“I can be ruthless and cruel when I have to be. Does that trouble you?”

No. His nature was the main thing that attracted her to him. She held his gaze. “I love that about you. I just don’t know if I can please you.”

His mouth curved into a frown. “Lana, just looking at you pleases me. Let me show you how much.”

His warm hands glided over her, deft strokes that ignited her skin as they peeled off every layer of her clothing. Primal urgency took over, quashing the part of her mind that gave a final panicked command to make him stop. A quick tremble of fear and anticipation zinged through her under the hungry heat of his gaze.

His nostrils flared. “So lovely.” He lifted her with no effort and deposited her in the center of his bed, the cover already folded back.

She raised herself on her elbows and watched him unzip his pants, her desire liquefying between the folds of her sex. She drew her tongue across her lips as she took in the powerful perfection of his form. He was pure, honed muscle and smooth flesh except for a dark dusting of hair on his forearms. When he removed the last piece of clothing, her breath caught.
Oh, my....
His was the kind of cock she really wanted to pleasure with her mouth. Long, smooth and thick enough to make her wonder if she could close her fingers around the shaft.

His wings folded as he climbed onto the bed. She moved toward the headboard, stopping when her head touched one of the plush pillows. He swept his large hands up her legs, nudging them apart, his powerful body moving over her until his mouth hovered within an inch of hers.

“You will lose all fears and reservations with me, Lana. Yes?” He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth for a quick nip.

“Yes,” she whispered, and succumbed to an urgent moan as he took her mouth in a kiss so sensual, so possessive, her bones all but turned to liquid. His tongue stroked deep in her mouth as he pinned her hands above her head in one of his. The hot length of his cock pressed against her pubic bone. She craved him deep inside her, driving her to mindless ecstasy.

He broke the kiss and their gazes met. A connection flared between them just then, almost palpable. The kind that went beyond physical attraction. The hitch in his breath and the tension in his body revealed that he’d definitely felt it. For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged breaths.

His thumb brushed her cheekbone. “Sweetness,” he murmured, voice thick with unexpressed thoughts.

He shifted to his side and glided his fingers down her throat where he caressed the beating hollow. He traced a line between her breasts to her belly, his palm caressing in soft, yet possessive arcs. Delicious goose bumps fluttered across her skin. He went lower, brushed his fingers through the neat patch of dark hairs on her mound. Her hips rose in greedy appeal but his fingers stopped short of her clit and moved back up her body. She tried to bring her legs together to assuage the ache that pulsed in her sex, but the weight of his leg prevented her.

“Soon, little healer. I’ll give you what you want,” he said, while drawing languorous circles around one breast.

The circles became smaller until he flicked over a taut nipple. Her eyelids drifted shut as coils of pleasure twirled around her flesh. There was a pause in his lovemaking and then she felt the caress of something altogether different. She opened her eyes and felt them widen at the sight of a long, grey-tipped feather—
his
feather.