In the Cards, page 12
“I wasn’t allowed to touch you. I broke that rule—multiple times.” He sighed heavily. Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on his knees and stared across the room. “The punishment is harsh. Every time I touched you I moved further into a state called a shade, until finally I became corporeal. Like I am now.”
“But you were before. You had to have been, I touched you. You ate and drank. We made love.” She reached out to touch him again and this time he didn’t rebuff her. She laced her fingers around his arm, thinking how right it felt.
“Yes, but it was a façade.” He turned his head to look at her. “I was a guardian angel acting a part. Now I’m human. I no longer have use of my wings or any of my former powers.”
“So between the time you pretended to die and now…? What were you doing then?”
“Well…I was in a lot of trouble for taking that bullet.” He sat up straight, shifting so he was facing her and took her hands in his. “You were…” He paused and swallowed hard. “You were supposed to die. I intervened with fate.”
“I was supposed to die?” A cold wave washed over her. “Did you know that?”
Alex nodded and squeezed her fingers. “I’m usually sent in to save my clients but this time I was only supposed to offer comfort and support during your final days. Once I got to know you, to love you, I couldn’t let it happen.”
Her thoughts were racing and she stumbled over her words. “I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you hardly seems sufficient.”
“There’s no need. All in a day’s work for a GA.”
“My hero.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He smiled and then exhaled loudly.
“Anyway, my supervisor raked me over the coals for interfering and told me I could only watch over you as a spirit, a kind of ghost, and that was only because I’d been given special permission.” He made a face. “I’m not very good with following the rules. Because I touched you, kissed you, held you, the rest of the punishment will now be carried out.”
“What’s the rest of the punishment?”
Alex looked down at their joined hands. “I have twenty-four hours and then I’ll just cease to exist.”
“Cease…?” She felt the blood drain from her face. “No more second chances?” Her voice cracked as she finished asking. Alex was already shaking his head sadly. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked to hold them at bay.
“No.” He sighed and pulled his hand free of hers. He rose to his feet and walked to the Christmas tree, standing with his back to her for a moment. The bit of plastic mistletoe they’d kissed under was hanging there and she watched as he turned slightly to gently nudge it with his finger. She could see the corner of his mouth curve upward in a reminiscent smile then his hand dropped to his side and he turned to face her. “It’s the price I had to pay to save your life.” His gaze met hers, intense, filled with love and conviction. “And I’d do it all over again just to know you’re alive.”
“Alex…” Words failed her as the depth of his love hit home. He’d given up eternity just for her. Why? There was nothing special about her. She was just an accountant! What had she ever done to be worthy of such a sacrifice?
Sacrifice.
The enormity of what was happening – what would happen – began to sink in. She blinked trying to hold back tears, her body beginning to shake with reaction. Taking a deep breath, she fought to gain control. She had to be strong for Alex.
With extreme care, Emma put her glass on the side table then stood up. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she moved to where he stood and put her hands on his chest. She spread her fingers wide, absorbing the warmth of his body. He felt so solid and strong. How was it possible that he could die? She felt a wayward tear drip down her cheek as she looked up at him. “How long do we have?”
“Twenty-four hours from the fight at the club.” He wiped the tear from her cheek then rested his hands lightly on her waist. There was a sheen in his eyes as he studied her features, as if he were memorizing them. “I’ll be leaving the human world, and I’m guessing Heaven as well, at some point tonight, probably sometime before dawn.”
Very slowly, Emma brought her hands up to cup his cheeks, her fingers trembling as they touched his skin. “It’s Christmas Eve. We’ve spent almost the entire day dealing with the fallout from Montrose and his sick business.” She leaned forward and kissed him, just a soft touch of her lips on his. “Let me take you to bed. If you’re going to disappear from my life forever, then I need to store up some memories.” She pulled back and pressed a finger to his mouth to stop him from speaking. “No, don’t tell me about mind wipes, because they just won’t work on me. You will stay in my heart for the rest of my life.”
With his hand in hers, she led him into her bedroom. She didn’t bother to turn on the light, she could see him in her mind’s eye, feel him with her hands and lips. Besides, between the faint glow from lamps outside and the light from the Christmas tree in the living room there was more than enough illumination. By the end of the night, she’d know every inch of his body and it would be indelibly mapped on her heart to comfort her during the lonely years ahead.
The zipper on his hoodie made a soft metallic hissing sound as she pulled it down. Stepping close enough to him that she could feel the heat of his chest through the material of his shirt, she pushed the sweater off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
When he moved to touch her, she shook her head and he let his arms drop to his side. She smiled up at him, then, lifting her face she nibbled at his chin and jaw while her fingers dealt with the buttons on his shirt. Soon that garment joined its fellow at their feet.
She rested her hands on Alex’s chest, his nipples hard against her palms, and looked up at her angel. His eyes were half closed, watching her closely. She could feel a purr of satisfaction rising from his chest.
Trailing her fingers down his abs, she pressed a kiss to chest. “You’re definitely not built like one of those little cupid angels. No round belly,” she commented, referring to a long ago conversation.
He gave a soft huff of laughter. “Thank heavens.”
“And,” she snuck one hand around to squeeze his butt, “nothing chubby about this.”
Alex shook his head and, lacing his fingers through her hair, drew her up for a tender kiss.
“You know,” she murmured against his lips, “I’d still love you even if you did look like a cupid.”
“Right.”
She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “I mean it. I love you, Alex. More than I ever thought possible. I love you so much it hurts in here.” She pressed a hand to her chest.
“Oh, Emma.” He sighed her name and pulled her into a tight embrace.
For a moment they stood like that, her head cradled to his shoulder, arms wrapped around each other. Emma slowly stroked his back, feeling the indent of his spine, the smoothness of his skin, the… Her questing hands paused as they encountered an unexpected ridge. Not his shoulder blades. She frowned. A scar?
“What’s that from?” She pulled away.
“What?”
“This.” She traced the raised line and Alex cursed softly.
“My wings. Or what remains of them.”
“Your wings?” Curious, she slipped around behind him. Near each shoulder blade was a long thin slit. She traced it with her fingertip and he shivered. “Did I hurt you?” She jerked her hand away.
“No. It’s just sensitive.”
“Oh. So you used to have wings attached there?”
“I still do, though they’re pretty shabby now; a side effect of becoming corporeal, and as I said earlier, I can’t fly anymore.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I could show you, if you’d like.”
She nodded, curious as to how wings could sprout from a man’s back.
Alex frowned as if concentrating and then, just as he’d said, a pair of wings emerged. They weren’t the gloriously full white wings she’d been expecting. Instead they were thin, bedraggled rather like those of a tree top angel that had seen better days. Even as she watched several feathers drifted to the ground while the wings themselves seemed to fade away before her very eyes.
“They’re…gone.” She shifted her shocked gaze from where his wings used to be, to his face.
Alex gave a sad smile. “I guess that means I’m officially not an angel anymore. No wings.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt tears welling in her eyes as she contemplated all he’d lost, just for her.
“No need. I meant what I said, I’d do it all over again to keep you safe.” He drew her close, brushing the tear from her cheek with his thumb.
Leaning into him, she offered him her comfort while absorbing his warmth. He caressed her slowly, gently and she did the same appreciating the feel of him, the strength that seemed to emanate from him. Long, slow strokes that eventually morphed into the heat of desire.
Daringly she moved her hands to his belt and then traced the bulge below. When he groaned, she smiled and repeated the gesture.
“Emma…”
“Alex...” She teased. Looking up at him, she undid his belt and the button fly of his jeans. When the material finally parted, she let gravity slowly slide his jeans down the length of his powerful legs, and dropped her gaze to the evidence of his desire.
She reached out, touched him, felt the heat of him. She did this to him. It was a heady knowledge, one that gave her an unexpected boldness.
The bed was but a step away and so she nudged him backwards until he sat and then pushed against his chest, forcing him to lie down. One corner of his mouth twitched but he did her bidding. She almost laughed; she wasn’t some femme fatale who controlled a man with a single look. She couldn’t force Alex to do a single damn thing. He was allowing her to call the shots. But that was okay, while he was acquiescent she was certainly going to take advantage of the situation.
Emma leaned over him, running her hands over his body and then retracing the path with her mouth. She nibbled and licked watching with pleasure as he quivered in response. His musky scent, the salty taste of him… It was like an aphrodisiac; warm, wet heat blooming within her. Lost in the feelings generated by her actions, she started when she felt Alex’s hands on her head, his fingers threading through her hair.
Responding to the gentle pressure against her head she looked up.
Alex’s voice sounded hoarse. “Take off your clothes. Let me see you.”
Rising to her feet, she did as he bid. She’d never felt particularly sexy when undressing in front of a man but Alex’s unwavering gaze on her made her feel sensuous. While she divested herself of her clothes he quietly removed the rest of his but remained seated on the edge of the mattress.
Unashamed, Emma stood before her angel and let him look his fill. She could almost feel his eyes tracing over her, lingering on her breasts, the curve of her hips, the juncture of her thighs. Her breath quickened and when he finally held out his hands to her, she was sure her heart would beat out of her chest. He urged her to straddle his lap and, with his strong arms behind her back to steady her, she brought her knees up on either side of him. She could feel the length of him trapped hot and hard between them, pressing against her stomach.
Rising up on her knees she felt him slip into place at the entrance to her body. All she needed to do now was lower herself onto him. But she waited. She teased them both with the gentlest of movements while she kissed and nibbled his lips. His mouth opened beneath hers and his tongue licked at the seam of her lips, requesting entry. Gladly, she gave permission and as he caressed the warm interior of her mouth she lowered herself onto him, encompassing him in her heat.
Wanting to make the moment last, she began to move with incredible slowness, needing to feel everything in detail. This night would have to last her a lifetime.
After a moment, Alex lay back on the bed and took her with him flipping them over as he did. His body pressed hers to the mattress. Never before had she felt so loved as he took charge and, with intense tenderness, moved within her. This wasn’t a frantic coupling, or a simple sex act. No, it was a dedication of the soul. And when completion came, as it did for both of them, it came with a rush of love and caring and friendship. Emma was certain she would never know its like again no matter how long she lived.
Afterwards, Alex held her in his arms. She felt she should speak to him—tell him how much she loved him, that she would never forget him—but the words wouldn’t come. Instead she pressed against his length, her head over his heart. His hands were stroking her hair, her back, her hip, calming her, soothing her.
“Alex,” she sighed, pressing a kiss to his chest just before sleep overtook her.
Chapter 17
Alex shifted position slowly, trying not to wake the woman lying in his arms. A little manoeuvring and he was able to see his watch in the light seeping in from the Christmas tree. He wasn’t sure when his final twenty-four hours had begun. The fight had taken place around two in the morning. It was now just after one.
He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t wanted to waste a minute. With his arms around the woman of his dreams…the last woman he would ever know…he tried to remember every moment they’d spent together over the past month or so. Such a short time in his vast life span but they were the most important weeks of his existence.
What would it feel like, to die? Would it happen in an instant or would Michael make him suffer? He hoped it wouldn’t be bad; he didn’t want Emma to see him in pain.
An intense feeling of contentment and lethargy crept over him and he fought it. He didn’t want to sleep. He needed to meet his destiny head on with eyes wide open.
He blinked and shook his head as his vision blurred. His breathing seemed to slow and his limbs felt heavy. His thinking was sluggish, vague thoughts and memories flitting through his mind. There was that tingling sensation again. Something was off…
“Sorry for breaking the rules, Sir.” The words slurred from his lips. “Please, take care of Emma. Let her be happy.” Against his will, his grip on her loosened and his eyes closed.
~~~
Emma awoke the next morning, blinking sleepily. She was on her side facing the window, sun streaming in, reflecting off the dust motes that floated in the air. Lacy fingers of frost edged the panes and in the distance she could hear church bells ringing.
It was Christmas Day.
In years past she’d have jumped out of bed and hurried to look out the window, then, after donning her favourite fuzzy bathrobe and slippers, she’d have made her way to the kitchen to fix a cup of tea before sitting by the Christmas tree to call her mother. But not today.
Her first thought upon waking had been that her life would never be the same again. The joy of Christmas was gone for her. Instead, the festive occasion would be forever associated with the day her heart had died.
She didn’t roll over. She didn’t want to see the empty space beside her. Alex was gone and all she had was the memory of their perfect night together. She pressed her face to her pillow, willing back the tears that stung her eyes. No crying, she told herself. Alex wouldn’t want her to cry over him.
It was useless.
Sobs shook her shoulders as she gave vent to the pain inside.
“Oh, Alex. I already miss you so much.”
“Emma?” A sleep-roughened voice spoke behind her and she felt a hand stroke her arm.
With a cry of surprise she rolled over to see Alex lying beside her, a frown marring his brow.
“Alex?” She breathed his name, unable to believe he was there. “You’re still here?”
He scrubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I…I guess I am.”
“But how?” She reached out to stroke his cheek. It felt warm and wonderfully familiar.
“I’ve no idea.” The look of wonder on his face slowly transformed into a grin. “But I sure am glad I’m here.” He pressed a kiss to her palm.
With a laugh she threw herself into his arms, showering kisses on him which he returned with equal fervour.
After a very satisfying interlude she snuggled in his arms. “I’m so happy I could burst.”
“Me too, except…”
She drew back and looked up at him. “Except what?”
“Something is jabbing me in the ribs.” He let go of her and fished around under the covers only to pull out a small gift-wrapped package. “From you?”
“Not me.” Emma sat up and took it from him, turning it over so she could see the tag. “It says ‘To E and A from M.’ Who’s M? Not Peter Montrose!” She dropped the package as if it were poison.
Alex sat up. “No, definitely not him, the police have him firmly locked up. But I do have a sneaking suspicion.”
“Is it safe to open, do you think?”
“Probably. But just in case, let me be the one to unwrap it.” He cautiously undid the bow and removed the paper revealing a small, flat, gold box.
Emma bit her lip. “Be careful. It could be one of those weird terrorist packages you hear about on the news. There could be poisonous dust in it or maybe a scorpion.”
“I really doubt that but if it will make you happy…” He held the box out at arm’s length. Emma gripped his shoulder and cringed as he gingerly removed the lid.
Nothing happened.
“See? Safe.” He set the box down on the covers and pulled away the tissue paper that guarded whatever was inside.
Emma exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Good. So what is it?”
“It’s a deck of cards.”
“What? Let me see.” She reached into the box and took out the elastic wrapped bundle. “It is a deck of cards. How strange.” She poked about in the packaging and found a piece of paper. “There’s a note.”
Alex unfolded it and scanned the message. “Play the rest of your hand carefully and be sure to follow the rules. –M.”
Alex frowned. What did Michael mean by that? As he considered the cryptic comment, he suddenly noticed Emma wasn’t moving. In fact, she seemed frozen in place. He reached towards her only to hear a voice behind him.
