Archangel of Mercy (14 page)

Chapter Twenty

A
URORA
stretched and a muffled groan escaped. Her entire body ached, inside and out, and as she gingerly curled back into a ball a flicker of heat warmed her heart.

That was the price demanded after hours of raw, uninhibited sex.

It took a few seconds for her brain to realize that she was smiling like an idiot instead of . . . Well, how was a girl supposed to feel after spending the night with an archangel?
Absolutely knackered
seemed to sum it up perfectly.

Finally she forced open one eye. She was still lying at the wrong end of the bed, and she was alone. Hadn’t Gabe returned at all after he’d left her this morning?

She chewed her lip and rolled onto her back, wincing at her protesting muscles. At some point she must’ve pulled a cover over herself, and she wrapped it around her breasts as she sat up, pushing her hair off her face.

Sunlight streamed in through the wide glass doors that led to the balcony, and for a moment she gazed at the distant rainforest. A tiny corner of her mind wondered at the sheer impossibility of everything that had happened over the last couple of days. But it was faint, insubstantial, as if that section of her consciousness did not quite belong to her. Because what did it matter how impossible everything was?

The only thing that did matter was it
had
happened and it
was
possible. She needed to focus on that. After all, she was living proof that one person’s fantasy was another person’s reality. How many people did she know who would have believed her if she’d told them of her mother’s true heritage?

The ruined fishnet stockings were still tied around her wrists, and as she tugged at the knots she wondered where Gabe was. Had he gone out? What exactly did an archangel do all day? Finally giving up on the knots, she slid out of bed and picked up Gabe’s discarded shirt. It smelled darkly erotic and seductively dangerous and she smothered a sigh as she pulled it over her head.

He fascinated her and aroused her like no other man she had ever met before in her life. Sure, he had the added advantage of immortality but it wasn’t that. It was the flashes of the
man
she saw beneath the archangel that really intrigued her.

But even then, there was more. He’d not only rescued her from the Guardians but had then openly given her his protection. She knew Mephisto had been goading Gabe. Knew the winged bastard was only out to cause trouble. But Gabe, despite his foul mood, hadn’t deserted her. And while it might gall that she’d been at his mercy there was no point wasting energy on useless anger. She was a mortal in a world of angels and demons.

On Eta Hyperium, when she’d thought herself safe from the Guardians, she’d been so desperate to escape that she’d decided to put her theory of traveling without breaching dimensions to the test. She’d focused her psychic energy on her home in Ireland, but that was as far as she’d got before Gabe had pulled her back. Had saved her
ass
yet again. He could be impossibly arrogant at times, but until she could work out a way of returning home without alerting the Guardians she’d make allowances for Gabe’s occasional egotistical outbursts.

As she slowly made her way toward the bedroom door, pain enveloped her breast. How could she not make allowances after his heartbreaking confession during the night? She had almost admitted to having gone through his personal treasures. Resentment had bubbled at his barefaced lie that angels didn’t procreate. Then her wounded pride crumbled as the depth of agony that underpinned his every word finally hit her.

It didn’t matter how long ago his woman and child had died. He still loved them. Would always love them. And he loved them so fiercely that he still couldn’t speak about them.

The door to his office was open. Gabe was asleep, arms folded on his desk, head cradled on his arms. She sagged against the doorframe, unable to tear her gaze from him.

He didn’t look like an archangel. He looked like a man exhausted by grief and ancient heartache.

No.
She wouldn’t fall for him. She wanted him, yes. She could accept that. He fascinated her and despite his lord-and-master routine she kind of . . . liked him, too.

If all they shared was smoking sex and a casual friendship then there was nothing to stop her from walking away when the time came.
And that time would come.
She knew it wouldn’t be easy. Gabe wasn’t the type a girl could walk away from without regrets but at least she would be able to.

But if she fell in love with him? How could she walk away then and expect to get her life back on track?

She wrapped her arms around her waist and still couldn’t drag her eyes away from him. Panic knotted deep in her gut and her chest tightened as the alternative hammered through her mind.

He expected her to remain here for the rest of her life.
She would never see her family again.
As her mother had never seen
her
family again. And while her mother loved her father and was happy to stay with him, eventually her mind had closed down under the strain.

Her mother clung to the edges of sanity by insisting there was only one world.
This
world. But by denying her heritage she scrubbed her mind of all telepathic links, the precious link Aurora had shared with her since birth. But even that hadn’t been enough to halt the fog that clouded her mind.

Fear wound through the panic, tightening the noose. She might not have traveled to another dimension like her mother had, but if she stayed here—secluded and isolated from the rest of the world—she might just as well have. Would she wake up one day and believe this was
all there was
? That her life up until meeting Gabe had been nothing but a strange, barely recalled dream?

Gabe expelled a heavy sigh, frowned and rolled his shoulders in a slow, languorous movement. She watched, fascinated by the poetic play of his muscles as he passed from slumber into consciousness.

It would be way too easy to fall for him. Way too easy to agree with his plans without pushing forward her own ideas and suggestions. But while her dad loved her mum with all his heart and soul and would do anything for her, all Gabe felt for
her
was lust and a sense of responsibility.

If she allowed herself to feel anything more than desire for him, eventually her heart would wither. She didn’t want to think what might become of her after that. Because it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to
let
it happen.

And then she realized Gabe was looking at her.

Stay calm. Stay in control.
Control
was of paramount importance. She would not allow her emotions to rule.

“Hi.” She hoped she sounded casual and not as if her brain was about to explode.

He didn’t answer but he did give her a long, assessing once-over. The expression on his face suggested he didn’t much care for the fact she was once again wearing one of his shirts.

She shifted self-consciously, and through force of habit her fingers went to curl around her necklace. Except her necklace was no longer around her throat. She smothered the sense of loss that stabbed through her at the realization that Mephisto had likely destroyed it and forced herself to remain still. Just because Gabe was perfectly comfortable wandering around his home completely naked didn’t mean she intended to do the same.

Finally he grunted by way of greeting, swiveled the chair so he was facing her, and it was blatantly obvious he was more than ready for a repeat of that morning.

With more willpower than she knew she possessed, Aurora kept her gaze fixed on his face. It didn’t stop her from noticing the size of his erection though, or prevent the sharp tug of desire low in her womb.

“I’ve been thinking.” Her treacherous gaze flicked to his groin and she all but forgot about the half-formed plans that had drifted through her mind as she’d woken.
Concentrate.
She gave herself a sharp mental slap, jerked her head up and caught the half-smile on his lips, the smolder in his eyes. It was obvious what
he
was thinking.

“Come here.” His voice was smoky, seductive, and she’d taken a step into his office before she even realized.

“Gabe.” It was hard to speak. He always did that to her. Would she always find him this irresistible if, by some incredible chance, they stayed together for any length of time? “Do you have the Internet?”

His lazy smile faltered. “The
what
?” He sounded incredulous. As if it was inconceivable she could think of anything but him when in his naked presence.

Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. She struggled to remember her point.

“The Internet. Well, an email connection really.” Her phone was still dead and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with the battery needing a charge. “So I can let my parents know I’m still alive.” Then she could at least stop worrying about them thinking the worst and concentrate on formulating her plans.

He was silent for a moment as though it had never occurred to him that she’d want to do such a thing.

“I can hook up a connection for you. But you can’t tell them what’s happened.”

“I know that.” She wanted to reassure them, not frightened them half to death. “I’ll just say I had to leave unexpectedly but I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Aurora.” For a second she thought she saw regret in his eyes. “Don’t go making plans to meet up with them. I can’t guarantee your safety outside my island.”

“I wasn’t going to.” And the reason she hadn’t planned on doing any such thing was because her plans were aimed in another direction entirely. “So, about this Internet. Is it some kind of cosmic web?” She forced a smile and hoped it didn’t feel as fake as it felt. “I don’t think I’m going to find many answers on the regular net, do you?”

He was silent for a few seconds as if digesting her comments and finding them unpalatable. “What kind of answers?”

“I thought I’d research the Guardians. See if I could find a loophole in their logic or something.”

“There is no loophole.” Irritation filled the air. “Do you think I haven’t thought of that?”

She glanced at his desk. It was as clear as it had been yesterday.

“You mean you—is that what you were doing this morning? Researching for a loophole?”

“Of course I wasn’t.” He sounded seriously rattled now. “I know a great deal more about the Guardians than you do.”

Of course he did. He was an immortal and she was only a human. He’d had eternity to discover everything about the Guardians. But that didn’t necessarily mean he had.

She took another few steps until she was standing by the side of his desk. Until she could, if she wanted, reach out and spear her fingers through his gloriously tangled hair.

Hair that she had tangled earlier that day.

“I’m not disputing that.” She resisted the urge to press her thighs together in a futile attempt to dampen down the lust. She couldn’t let sex dictate
every
single move between them, no matter how enticing the notion. “But I know next to nothing about them and I’d like to learn.”

The silence vibrated between them as Gabe glowered at her as if she had asked for something outrageous. She stared back, refusing to break eye contact or utter another word. She’d told him what she wanted. It was up to him to respond.

Finally he muttered something under his breath.
What was that language?
She dearly wanted to know but now wasn’t the time to distract him with a tangent.

“Fine.” He sounded like he didn’t care one way or the other. “But you’re wasting your time. Their clauses are ironclad.”

Despite his negative attitude, anticipation sizzled through her blood. No matter how pessimistic Gabe was of discovering something she could use to her advantage, she just knew she would. She had to.

—

AURORA HAD JUST
finished a late lunch of exotic fruits as Gabe strolled into the kitchen. He’d showered, his hair still damp, and he looked completely edible.

Without meaning to she licked her lips and tried not to drool. The legends might have got a lot wrong when it came to the angels but they’d certainly been right about the heavenly beauty. Only when he deposited a slender, faintly glimmering laptop on the table in front of her did she even realize he’d been holding something.

“I’ve reconfigured the language options. You need to imprint your DNA so it recognizes your commands.”

Her DNA? Why would a laptop need that kind of information? “How does it work?” There was no keyboard so far as she could see. “Does it connect directly to my brain or something?” She was joking, but Gabe shot her an assessing glance.

“The DNA imprint is a security feature.” He turned back to the laptop, and the screen suddenly blazed into rainbow-bright life. “I can access it psychically but I doubt you’ll be able to, despite your”—he paused, as if weighing up his words—“probable telepathic abilities.”

For a second she wondered why he assumed she was telepathic, and then remembered how he’d probed her mind when they’d first met. How staggered he’d been by the mental barrier she hadn’t even known she possessed. The protective barrier that, she guessed, was a natural part of her mother’s heritage to repel unwanted telepathic intrusion.

“Yes, I am telepathic. So’s my mother.” She hesitated for a moment then decided to share a little more. “All of my mother’s people are telepathic.” When Aurora had been growing up, her mother had loved telling her stories about her home. How people communicated telepathically as easily as they spoke aloud and how strange her mum found it that on Earth nobody did. Aurora and her mother had shared a telepathic link but Aurora had never discovered anyone else whose mind she could reach. Not that she’d exactly gone around trying. “But it’s not something I, you know, tell everyone about.” But she had the strongest urge to tell Gabe. To explain so he would understand why she had so desperately wanted to breach dimensions. “You see, the thing is—”

“You descended from witches. That’s okay, I won’t burn you at the stake.” He flashed her a sardonic smile as if he actually meant it. She was so distracted by both his smile and the fact he appeared to find nothing odd in his remark that she forgot to correct him. “Place your thumbprint here.” He indicated an indentation in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. “You can gain access to the
cosmic web
”—his lips twitched with amusement—“with this.” He placed a small crystal globe in front of her. “This is our version of the mouse.” Finally he touched the bottom of the frame and a wafer-thin keyboard slid out.