All That Falls (12 page)

Not likely the same intensity, but intense enough.

Archangels in human form were more than human. Heightened senses revealed distant sounds and faint smells. They
revealed the approach of an enemy, or in this case a potential lover. It was a blessing when it came to warring with demons. It was a curse when it came to being attracted to someone with whom he shouldn’t allow himself to become involved.

His lids rose, so his eyes could consume her, too. His gaze locked with hers, and her arm froze for a moment, then continued its path. He wanted to grab her hand, but was wary of actually touching her. He’d be inclined to do more, to touch more. He was already drowning in lust.

He waited until she had her hand on the duffel bag, then he caught the side of the bag and held it in place on the shelf. She yanked, and his gaze went immediately to her shoulders. She had strong muscles. He wished her shoulders were bare so he could enjoy their definition as they contracted with exertion, the way they did when she danced. Watching Cerise dance put him in mind of things he’d lost—things for which he longed.

Yes, drowning in lust.

Merrick supposed that Lysander had no experience with women, which wasn’t true. Lysander allowed the misconception to stand because he didn’t care to reveal the details of his past. It was true that Lysander had not had a lover in Merrick’s lifetime, nor for many hundreds of years, but he did know what it was to touch that softness, to feel smooth skin sliding against his. Lysander avoided the company of women because when faced with a woman that attracted him, impulse and instinct, which were often his greatest assets, became liabilities.

“You persist at your own peril,” he said, his voice low. Her breasts were only inches from his chest. He could pull her on top of him in an instant.

“You’re threatening me? That’s rich,” she said. “You took—”

“You intruded on my solitude and woke me. I’ve spared you the trouble you court until now—”

“Let me take—”

It was too dangerous to risk touching her while in bed, but he could get something he wanted. He could be transported for a little while. “I demand you make amends.”

That brought her up short. “Amends?” she sneered, shaking her head.

Her dark eyes narrowed, the anger making color rise in her cheeks. His heart thumped a little harder in his chest.

Go ahead. Challenge me.

“I don’t need to make amends. I’m not the one who took what doesn’t belong to her.”

Her skin’s heat warmed him, made him want to lose himself in it.

“You’ll oblige me,” he said, knowing it would make her angrier.

“No, I won’t.”

He smiled. “Your compliance is compulsory. That’s what makes it a demand rather than a request.” He had good reason for taking the book, and if he explained why he’d done so she’d likely become more agreeable, but he was enjoying this battle of wills. Also, he wasn’t bound to explain himself to anyone and normally didn’t. Sharing confidences implied friendship and intimacy, neither of which could he afford to have with this spirited young dancer.

She stared daggers at him. His smile widened. Yes, she was nitroglycerin made flesh. She’d go off with a spectacular explosion. In anger or in passion.

She gave the bag a jerk, but he didn’t let it budge. Recognizing that she couldn’t snatch it from his grip, she released the strap and straightened. She turned to leave.

No, Cerise, it’s too late for that. Pull once too often on a tiger’s tail, and you won’t escape being eaten.

Her stride toward the door was purposeful, but not rushed. She held her head high. He cocked his head slightly, watching her backside as she walked. She had the sort of full round bottom that was pure female perfection. Her beauty tied his insides into knots and made him ache between his legs.

When she was nearly to the door, he sprang silently from the bed. He reached the door and put a hand on it just as she turned the knob. She looked up sharply at his hand, then over her shoulder at his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you here until you’ve made amends.”

She glared at him, turning her body until her back leaned against the door. “And exactly how do you expect me to do that?”

I’d like you to invite me to thrust the hardest part of my body into the warmest part of yours. But I won’t seduce you
into that. No matter how much I’m tempted—no, absolutely not.
He knew better than to pursue what he would most enjoy. Such a deep connection with her could compromise his quest for redemption.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t satisfy him another way.

“You’re going to dance for me.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. “What kind of dancing?” she asked suspiciously. “You’re naked, and I don’t intend to join you that way.”

“Why not?” he asked with feigned innocence. When not in the company of men, angels spent most of their time nude. They weren’t like human beings, who associated their nakedness with sin, shame, and guilt. And since those associations had been born when humans fell victim to the trickery of a demon who’d tricked Lysander as well, it irked Lysander that humans were still tormented by their mistake.

Cerise pointed her right index finger at him. “You understand perfectly well why I wouldn’t strip for you or any other man I didn’t intend to sleep with. You weren’t born yesterday.”

He looked down at her body, which was only about a foot and a half from his. Shadow hid his face until he looked at her through his lashes, his intensity like the sting of a whip. Her pupils dilated and she shifted, her back arching and bringing her breasts closer, likely without her awareness.

“When
were
you born?” she asked.

“In the time before time was measured. I’d like to see you perform
Swan Lake
. Or
Giselle
.”

“Would you?” Cerise said, laughing softly. “And did you just happen to choose the most technically difficult ballets you could think of?”

“No, not by chance. I chose them on purpose.”

She raised her brows.

“The harder you work, the more I’ll enjoy it.”

Anger lit her eyes again, and she looked defiant. “Maybe I don’t know them.”

“Of course you do.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged, not prepared to admit that after they’d met, he hadn’t been able to resist watching her and that he’d come upon her practicing in the dance studio near her home.
Unfortunately, because he’d had to conceal himself he’d never been able to watch with an unobstructed view. Also, those weren’t true performances. Her only focus had been on executing the moves with precision. Often that required halting the sequences to repeat them. He wanted to see her act the roles without interruption. He wanted to watch the music and the movement consume her. Angels had invented music and dancing. Sometimes while watching a great athlete perform, he could transcend the earth’s confines. For a few moments, his soul could soar toward unreachable heights. He lived for those rare brushes with the wonders of heaven.

She glanced around the room. “There’s not enough space.”

“There is. I’ll move the obstacles aside for you.”

“How very generous,” she said dryly. “And I can’t leave until I dance?”

“Or until you satisfy me some other way,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll entertain other propositions.” His muscles tightened. The game was dangerous, but to be so close, to feel her warmth, and to bask in a flirtation intoxicated him. She made him remember why women fascinated him.

“Again with the amazing generosity. I can’t imagine how people haven’t taken incredible advantage of you over the years.”

“It’s to be the dancing then?” he asked, unperturbed by her sarcasm.

“It’s to be nothing,” she said, her tone cool. “You can keep me from leaving—for the moment. But you can’t force me to dance. Or to do anything I don’t want to do.” She glanced around, likely calculating escape strategies.

If it was to be a standoff of wills, he could certainly outlast her, but he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her for hours without falling victim to his own desires. He’d end up seducing her. It would be better to compromise to gain her quick compliance.

“If you agree without delay, I’ll give you something you want,” he said.

“The book?”

He wished he could lie as well as Merrick. Then he could’ve said yes and she would’ve believed him, but his hesitation cost him any chance he had of convincing her he’d trade the book for her compliance.

“No, but I’ll tell you something about it that you need to know.”

He could see that the proposition intrigued her. Her gaze turned intense as she looked back at the duffel.

“What could you know about it? You just found it, didn’t you?”

“That’s my offer. Information in exchange for you performing for me.”

“Why the hell do you want me to dance for you anyway? If you want to see someone perform
Swan Lake
or
Giselle
, all you have to do is buy a ticket. There’s always some great ballet company somewhere in the world performing one or the other.”

“It’s you in particular I want to watch.”

She smiled in spite of her annoyance. “Why?”

“Because you’re an exceptional dancer.”
And because you’re the woman with whom I’m infatuated.

“I couldn’t do it justice. I don’t have pointe shoes.”

He walked to the closet and produced a pair of her custom plum-colored ballet shoes from within.

“What the—I accidentally left those behind at the studio. When I went back they were gone. I assumed some dancer thought she’d get additional inspiration from wearing a muse’s shoes. Did you—how did you get them?”

He handed them to her without answering and walked away, listening for the sound of the door handle turning. If she bolted, she wouldn’t reach the elevator or the stairs before he retrieved her, but he wasn’t interested in giving chase. That would only stoke temptation’s fire. Chasing a woman, capturing her, carrying her back…afterward he’d have a very hard time just watching her dance without going further. And this could only go so far.

When all the furniture was along the wall, some of it tipped onto its side to allow maximum floor space, he turned to her.

“I require one other thing.”

She still leaned against the door and a brow rose.

“You won’t dance in those clothes. You don’t need to be nude. Your undergarments are acceptable.”

“Acceptable to you maybe.”

He rolled his eyes. “If I can’t see the way your muscles move, it will detract from my pleasure in watching you.”

“How unfortunate for you. Life is full of disappointments.”

“It is, but this won’t be counted among them. The apartment’s warm. With the exertion of dancing, you’ll be more comfortable in less clothing. And you don’t need to be modest; I’ve already seen you nude.”

Suppressing the urge to gape at him, Cerise clenched her jaw. “Is that so? You’re quite the Peeping Tom. Nothing better to do with your time? Had to turn to voyeurism?”

“As you like,” he said with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like. I’m never outside in the nude. No skinny-dipping or nude beaches for a muse when there are paparazzi with long lenses, which means that you must have engaged in some creepy stalker behavior in order to see me naked. Care to explain?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well, do it anyway.”

“I decline, but I will get dressed if it makes you more comfortable.”

As he slid his pants on, she flashed her middle finger at him and turned to the door.

“Wait,” he said as she jerked the door open.

She looked over her shoulder and added angrily, “You stalked me, so you owe me an apology for invading my privacy, too. As I see it, we’re even. More than even. I didn’t drag off your blanket to ogle you naked.”

“No, you ogled me with the blanket in place,” he said with an amused smile.

“Asshole,” she snapped.

“And for the record, I wouldn’t have cared if you had
removed the linens. I’m not shy and have no concerns over being seen in only my skin.”

She stalked out of the apartment and down the hall. When she reached the elevator, his hand was there, covering the buttons so she couldn’t summon it.

She grabbed his arm with both of her hands and yanked. His forearm muscles clenched, and his hand didn’t give way.

“Let go!” She slapped her right palm back against his chest and shoved. He didn’t take a backward step or even bobble. He was flesh-covered granite, which despite her current fury was, on some level, appealing.

She spun, but her foot caught on his ankle and with the force of her movement, she stumbled. He caught her arms, which kept her from slamming her knees onto the wood floor, but she still ended up kneeling.

Staring directly at his groin, she was glad he’d donned pants. She couldn’t help but notice though that he seemed to be well made
everywhere
.

She clenched her eyes closed, shaking her head.

“Interesting position. Have you a new proposition, Cerise?” he asked.

She couldn’t help it. She smiled.

When a moment passed, he said, “Open your eyes.”

Her lids rose, and she saw his chest. He’d lowered himself to one knee. Her gaze met his eyes.

“You agreed to dance for me. I won’t allow you to renege now. It means too much to me to watch you perform, but I acknowledge your point regarding my trespassing on your privacy,” he said. “I wasn’t spying on you to watch you undress, but my vantage point allowed it to happen. For amends, I’ll dance the male role tonight. I can still stand back and watch you during the sections where you don’t have a partner. During the couples sequences, I’ll perform, too.”

“Dancing with me, that’s your idea of making it up to me?”

“For certain,” he said with a nod. “I’ll be the best partner you’ve ever had.”

She stared into his eyes and felt her muscles tighten in anticipation. She loved to dance, but at nearly six feet tall and built like an Olympian herself, she wasn’t exactly lithe.

“You know the steps?”

He gave her a look that said it was a ridiculous question.