ANGEL'S KISS (A Dark Angel's Novel) (6 page)

BOOK: ANGEL'S KISS (A Dark Angel's Novel)
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“Yeah, yeah, I know. I didn’t call to bitch. How’s the Janeck case going? Anything happen today, while I was otherwise engaged?”

“Not really. I relieved Riley after I left you at the hospital. Philip hasn’t left the house and he hasn’t even opened the curtains. Maybe he’s sleeping off a bender or something. Did he drink much last night?”

“No, he seemed sober enough. Did Riley have anything to report?”

“Riley gave me a full report...of empty pages. Says the guy had no visitors and no activity at the house. Lights stayed on in the kitchen and living room all night. I haven’t seen any changes today, either. It’s sort of strange; wouldn’t you even check the mail or something?”

“You’d think. Well, we don’t have any cause to check the house, so just keep watching. Who’s on tonight?”

“Riley’s coming back as soon as he sleeps and showers, probably around two. I was planning to call Mrs. Janeck in the morning. Let her know that we haven’t gotten anywhere and its okay to return from her ‘trip.’ We need to find out if she still wants us to tail him. It’s your call, but the guy seems legit.”

“Yeah, maybe he’s on the level. But something isn’t right with this situation. I just can’t put my finger on it. I’ll bet he’s into something.”

“I try never to fight woman’s intuition, and I have to admit I’ve got a bad feeling about this house with no movement inside. We should have had her sign a release to bug the place.”

“I’ll remember that for next time. Maybe I’m just being pessimistic after everything last night. Thanks for taking care of this one; I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Call me if our friend gets any visitors tonight.”

“You got it. See ya at the office tomorrow, peace out.”

I put the phone on the charger and checked out dinner options. Yea! Alan had gone to the store, and we had steak, potatoes, and stuff for salad. The perfect meal. I got things assembled, marinating the steak and washing the potatoes, dicing and chopping things for the salad. Thankfully, these mundane jobs kept my mind busy.

Alan came down just as I was finishing the prep work and loading the potatoes into the oven to bake. He looked rested and tussled in his washed-out jeans and t-shirt. I love watching him walk around barefoot in
Levi’s
.

“Hi,” I said wrapping myself around his lean frame. Just the smell of his skin sent a shiver through me. I looked up into his light-blue eyes and was almost overwhelmed with the urge to climb up his body and make love to him right there. The kiss I gave him must have conveyed that desire, because he pulled his lips away to look into my eyes. I could see the hunger in his, too. But I could also see hesitation.

“What, I can’t come on to my husband?” I said with real anguish.

“Hummm,” he said nuzzling my neck, “you know I want you.” Then he picked me up and set me on the counter. He used his body to push my legs apart so I could feel just how much he wanted me. “I’m just nervous about your state of mind. Honey, you were just attacked, and you’re acting as if nothing happened.” He kissed the back of my injured hand. “I’m worried.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, I could feel him throbbing against me. A little breathlessly, I whispered into his ear. “Haven’t you ever heard of physical therapy?” That was all it took for him to forget his reservations and give in to me.

 

I lay in bed listening to Alan snore. Alan and I have always had a good physical relationship, but we’ve been married for close to ten years. For a while now whenever we’ve made love, there’s always a little part of my mind that’s thinking about my to-do list.

Not tonight. Tonight we’d had mind-blowing sex. I’ve never felt so out of control or absorbed in the moment. Just thinking about it made me smile and yearn for more.

All my needs had been met. Even the food had tasted better than normal. As I drifted off to sleep, I felt content and happy.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about my new admirer. Mr. Hypnotic Voice.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

The Scent of Roses

 

Floating… I’m floating in warm water... mmm… it’s the perfect temperature, although it feels thicker and heavier than water should. I hope I don’t wake up. This is a great dream. It feels so real. I can even smell…

Oh god, I feel hands all over my body. Startled, I open my eyes. The light is very dim, and it flickers like a candle or a torch. The ceiling... it’s so far away, and it looks like it’s made of stone or rock.

Panic threatens to overcome me, but the hands gently washing my hair pull me back into the euphoria of the dream. I raise one hand and watched the liquid coat my fingers and palm, and then run down my arm. The water seems white against my skin. A soft, dark-olive hand takes my extended arm before I have time to worry about the color of the water and gently massages my hand.

I’m naked, exposed. However, the sensual experience—the hands, too many to count, gently supporting and cleansing my body—overpower my anxiety. The sensation is both soothing and breathtaking. My mind is fuzzy… I’m conscious enough to feel what’s going on, but not enough to speak or turn my head to see whose massaging and washing me.

Their touch is very intimate. Yet I know it’s not Alan. I should try to wake up, but this feels so wonderful I want to enjoy every moment. Ah….

I must have drifted deeper into sleep for a moment, because I’m out of the water now. I can feel a soft bed around me and my face is resting gently on soft petals. The scent of roses surrounds me; it’s so strong, I can almost taste them on my tongue. Hands massage my skin with some kind of oil.

“Wonderful...roses.” The hands gently roll me onto my back. A soft breeze against my naked breasts sends a chill through me. I just can’t make myself feel self-conscious. I know I should, but it’s a dream, why not enjoy it?

“Who?” I finally manage to ask. No one answers. The hands just keep rubbing the oil all over my body, working in perfect synchronization. I slide my fingers through the soft rose petals, enjoying the creamy texture. “What an amazing dream,” I manage to say in a low mumble.

“This is as it can be,
Alexandria
, my Qadesh, if you choose to come back to me.”

My eyes open, my mind instantly alert, but my body is still numb. I see a man kneeling beside me; he has a small cloth draped around his waist, leaving the rest of his body bare. Power radiates off his glistening olive skin. My bare skin tingles where it touches his thigh. My eye follows the line of his arm up to his broad chest; he is smooth and muscled. A tattoo wraps around his shoulders like an ancient necklace. The sculpted muscles of his shoulders and neck make a perfect frame for his smooth, bald head.

I meet his gaze. His deep onyx eyes mesmerize me; he has me trapped. I don’t want to look away. The deep black kohl eye liner, which runs to an extreme point in the corner of his eyes made his face even more dramatic.

His fingers caress my face, following the line of my chin to my neck. They flow over my nipple, down my stomach, and out over my hip. A spin-tingling thrill goes through my body as his fingers skim over my skin. Without shame I arch my hips to meet his touch. His hand returns to my face and traces my lips. My tongue follows the path of his finger, only to realize he’s put something on my lips. The taste is metallic, but sweet. My eyes close as he whispers in my ear. “Dreams can be made real, my Qadesh.” His cold breathe on my skin makes me burn with need.

I reach out to trace the muscles of his arm; tiny hairs tickle my fingers. Hummm…but his skin had looked so smooth....

I opened my eyes and saw my own bedroom and all the clutter and books on my nightstand.

“Just a dream,” I whispered to myself as I nestled back into Alan’s arms. I felt him waking as he pulled me in tighter, trying to hold me like a pillow.

“Mmmm,” Alan said. “You smell like roses.” 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Visit with B

 

I pushed at Alan’s arm and scrambled back from his touch. The air swirled around me. As my back hit the headboard I was assaulted by a deep rose perfume that made me want to sneeze.

“No. No.” I shook my head to clear the scent from my nose and dull the arousal I felt as I remembered the man’s touch. “Not possible. No.”

Alan, now wide awake and panicked, attempted to wrap his arms around me.

“Don’t.” My body tingled just below the surface of my skin, as if a sneeze lingered inside me, growing stronger. I couldn’t let him touch me. It would shatter the fragile hold I had on reality.

“Lex, I’m here. You’re okay.” His arms stretched out, like he was soothing a wild animal. “Did you have a dream?”

The look of fear and pity on Alan’s face shook me. Of course, it was a dream. What else could it be? The smell of roses was just a delusion of my overtired mind.

We sat side by side for what seemed like forever. Finally my breathing slowed and the electrical tingling dimmed under my skin. I reached out and took his hand. His expression relaxed a bit, and he caressed my cheek with the other.

Guilt choked me. I remembered the overwhelming desire I’d felt in the dream when the rough texture of the other man’s finger trailed over my bare skin. I held Alan’s hand against my face. Desperate to anchor myself in this reality, I folded myself into his arms. Neither of us spoke as I tried to make sense of the vivid dream.

Then the phone rang. Alan hesitated.

“Alan, get the phone. I’m okay.” He gave me a look. Then he launched himself across the bed to the phone on his nightstand.

 

“Hello….huh?” He let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his tussled hair. “Who is this? Beatrix?”

I glanced at the clock: a little after seven. Well, this couldn’t be good. Why would my grandmother call me this early in the morning? Why would she call me at all? She’d always hated my father. She thought her daughter was too good for a working class guy, and Dad told me once that B didn’t even go to their wedding. Worse than that, I think she blamed Dad for Mom’s death. Now Dennis and I are like the evil spawn, or something. She’s barely civil to us. At birthdays and holidays she always gives us big gifts, but not much time or affection.

“Yes, she’s here, but she’s busy at the moment. Can I take a message? ” Alan asked looking at me with concern. “No, she won’t be able to make it out to see you this morning. She’s got a lot on her plate today.”

His face was tense, and I could tell that he was mad. “No, Beatrix, that will not be possible. I told you, she has a lot to do today,” he said sternly.

I could hear my grandmother raising her voice and I knew that Alan was just about at the end of his rope, so I held my hand out for the phone. Alan rolled his eyes, but he gave it to me—just in time to hear the last of B’s insults.

“…look, you overgrown bookworm, I must speak to my granddaughter. Put her on the phone now!” she screamed. The venom in her voice startled me; I’d never heard anything but cold detachment in her tone before. As I took the phone, I realized that my wounded hand felt better.

“B, it’s Lexie. What do you want?” Exhaustion fueled my own tone.

“Darling, it’s about time you got to the phone. Look dear, I don’t have all day. I need to talk to you this morning. Please be at my home by ten.”

“B, some things have come up, and I’m not feeling very well.”

“I know what you’ve been up to and I know exactly how you feel. So be here by ten. Better yet, William will pick you up.”

“B, what do you mean, you know exactly…” I shook my head. “Never mind. If you have something to tell me, just say it over the phone. I’m not coming all the way out there.”

This woman always brings out the bitchiness in me. She’s hurt my father and my family enough. I don’t owe her anything, and I’m not about to rush over there.


Alexandria
, I will remind you that my name is Beatrix, not B. Now, you have caused quite a stir over the last couple of days, young lady, and I’m afraid the cat is out of the bag.”

What was she talking about? How did she have any idea about what I’d been through the last couple of days? I cradled the phone against my shoulder and took off the bandage to check out the cuts on my hand as she continued.

“You need to come alone; I’m not interested in entertaining your husband. I cannot stress enough that this matter is of the utmost urgency and is private. I know you were attacked. It’s time for us to talk.”

I was shocked and overwhelmed. Shocked because my hand was completely healed and because she seemed to know what had happened. Overwhelmed because this was the longest conversation we’d ever had.

All I could say was, “How?”

“Good girl. William will be there at
9:30
to pick you up.” Then the phone went dead.

Damn it, she’d hung up before I could tell her to shove it.

I told Alan everything. Problem was there wasn’t much to tell. The dream had faded around the edges, and my conversation with B was strange. Alan thought I must have been talking about the roses in my sleep, and he just repeated what he’d heard. That seemed logical, but neither of us could explain what B meant.

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