Olivia scooted off him and twisted to study him. He was still sleeping, his features relaxed, one arm tossed over his head, the other at his side, where she had been. He’d been holding her close. The corners of her lips lifted in a dreamy smile, and her heart fluttered wildly.
He wasn’t wearing a T-shirt, and the knowledge caused her heart’s fluttering to pick up speed. She had sprawled across the colorful expanse of his chest, had lain on those tiny brown nipples, those ropes of muscle and that intriguing navel.
Unfortunately, he was wearing jeans. His feet were bare, though, and she saw that even his toes were tattooed. Adorable.
At her touch, breath pushed from his lips, and she jolted backward. No way did she want to be caught molesting him. Well, without his permission. The action proved more forceful than she’d meant, and she propelled off the bed completely, plummeting to the floor with a painful
He was sitting up, glaring down at her.
Olivia gulped and waved up at him shyly. “Uh, good morning.”
His gaze roved over her, narrowed. “You look better. Much better.” His voice was rough. Probably from sleep, and not desire as every cell in her body hoped. “Are you healed?”
“Yes, thank you.” At least she thought she was healed. Her heart had yet to calm, its continued erratic beat foreign to her. And there was an ache in her chest. Nothing terrible, as the pain in her back had been, but odd. Her stomach was even quivering.
“You suffered for three days. Any complications? Any lingering twinges?”
“Three days?” She hadn’t realized so much time had passed. And yet, three days hardly seemed long enough for her to have healed so thoroughly. “How am I all better?”
He glowered. “We had a visitor last night. He didn’t give me a name, but he said he would heal you, and I guess he was true to his word. He didn’t like me, by the way.”
“My mentor.” Of course. Healing her would have meant bending the rules, but Lysander had helped
Once more Aeron’s gaze raked her, as if searching for injuries despite the truth in her claim. His pupils dilated, gobbling up every bit of that lovely violet. Not with happiness, but with…anger? Again? She had done nothing to quash his earlier tenderness. Had Lysander said something to upset him, then?
“Your robe…” he croaked, and quickly turned away from her, giving her his back. His second butterfly tattoo greeted her, and her mouth watered. What would those jagged wings taste like? “Fix it.”
Frowning, she looked down at herself. Her knees were drawn up and her robe was bunched at her waist, revealing the small, white panties she wore. He couldn’t be angry about that. Anya, Lucien’s wife and the minor goddess of Anarchy, wore much less on a daily basis. Still, Olivia smoothed the soft, flowing material to her ankles. She could have stood and rejoined him on the bed but decided not to risk either falling or a rejection.
“I’m covered now,” she said.
When he faced her, those pupils still blown, he tilted his head to the side, as if he were replaying their conversation through his mind. “Why do you have a mentor?”
Easy enough to answer. “Like humans, angels must learn how to survive. How to help those in need. How to fight demons. My mentor was—is—the greatest of his kind, and I was blessed to work with him.”
“His name.” The two words lashed like a whip, hard and sure, cutting.
Why such a negative reaction? “I believe he’s an acquaintance of yours, actually. You know Lysander, yes?”
Aeron’s pupils finally retracted, the violet irises once more visible—and drowning her in their irresistible depths. “Bianka’s Lysander?”
She smiled at the description. “Yes. He visited me, too.”
“The night I thought you were talking to yourself,” he said, nodding.
“Yes.” And he planned to return. That, she didn’t mention. Lysander loved her and wouldn’t hurt Aeron—yet —because that would, in turn, hurt her. At least, that was the hope she clung to.
Aeron scowled. “The angelic visits have to stop, Olivia. Between Hunters and our demons, we have enough to deal with already. Even though Lysander helped you, even though I’m grateful, I cannot allow the continued interference.”
She laughed. She just couldn’t help herself. “Good luck with that.” Stopping an angel was like stopping the wind: in a word, impossible.
His scowl intensified. “Are you hungry?”
The subject change didn’t bother her; it actually delighted her. He’d often done the same thing with his friends, moving from one topic to another without warning. “Oh, yes. I’m starved.”
“Then I’ll feed you before taking you into town,” he said, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing.
Still Olivia remained in place, but this time the immobility was because her limbs felt as if they were anchored to rocks. First, he was
“Of course.”
“Better question. When did I ever imply otherwise?” He strode to his bathroom and she lost sight of him. There was a rustle of clothing, and then a burst of water upon porcelain.
“But you held me in your arms all night,” she called. “You cared for me for three days.” That had to mean something. Right? Men didn’t do such things unless they were besotted. Right? In all her time with Aeron, she’d never seen him with a female. Well, besides Legion, but the little demon didn’t count. He’d never held her in his arms all night. So his attention to Olivia was special.
There was no reply. Soon, steam and the scent of sandalwood soap were drifting through the room. He was showering, she realized, and her heart once more picked up speed, even skipping a beat altogether. He’d never showered when she’d been here before. He’d always waited until she had left.
Seeing his naked body had become an obsession.
Was he tattooed
Determined, Olivia finally pushed to her feet. Without her wings to center her, she had no sense of balance, and quickly toppled over, sharp pains exploding from her knees and making her wince. This pain, however, was bearable. After the wing extraction,
Again, she stood. Again she fell. Argh! All too soon, the water shut off. There was a slap of wet flesh against marble, and then a glide of cotton from metal.
For balance, she placed one foot in front and one in back and spread her arms wide. Slowly she inched to her full height. She wobbled left, then right, but managed to stay upright this time.
Then Aeron emerged from the bathroom, and disappointment filled her. There was a towel wrapped around his waist and another winding around his neck. Too late. Double argh!
“You showered so swiftly. Surely you missed a spot,” she said.