Free Angel Be Good by Kathy Carmichael Page B

when she gained time and
perspective to look at things.
    *
    Nat threw down his pen and stood up. There's
no way he'd admit it to her, but he'd noticed that she'd left. At
first, a desperation had seized him. She'd given up, left him, and
he was alone. Again. He'd railed against the angel who could so
lightly introduce Daphne into his life and then take her away,
erasing all traces except the decorated office tree.
    Even the tree had looked forlorn.
    Then, somehow, someway, he'd felt his fears
evaporate. He'd known Daphne would come back to him. Where she
belonged. When she'd returned, he'd known it by her fragrance, the
scent that wrapped around his senses—alluring, enchanting and
impossible to ignore.
    He hadn't wanted her to know. So, he'd made
a show of writing in his planner. But he couldn't resist her any
longer.
    Walking over to reach her side, he pulled
her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face
in her soft curls. It couldn't be wrong that he needed her, needed
to feel her yielding curves against the hardness of his body,
needed to know that she belonged to him.
    So he lowered his lips to hers. Her mouth
was hot, lush, welcoming. Ambrosia to a man who'd never tasted
anything but ashes.
    "Leonard's not around, is he?" Nat asked
between kisses.
    "No. He won't be back for awhile."
    Nat didn't reply; he didn't need to. He let
his hands splay against her back, pulling her closer. Running his
lips down her cheek and neck, he nibbled at the soft hollow at the
base of her neck. She had to be flesh and blood, just like any
other woman, for he could feel the blood rushing through her body,
could hear her soft exhalations.
    This wasn't some temporary body. It was real
and true and Daphne. Daphne, whom he wanted to love in every way
possible between a man and a woman.
    Groaning, he brought his lips back to hers.
His fingers gently slipped the thin strips of fabric off her
shoulders and slowly lowered the neckline of her dress.
    She whimpered, and he knew it wasn't from
fear but from passion. "I need you, Daphne."
    "I need you, too."
    "You belong in my arms, in my bed, in my
life." He lowered his palms to cover her firm breasts, felt her
nipples harden at his touch, felt her breathing become ragged. He
whispered, "I need you, Daphne. Promise you won't leave me
again."
    She gasped for air. "I don't want to go.
I'll stay as long as I can, Nat. But this—we—what we've become,
isn't meant to be. It's just madness, the way we've been thrown
together. It can't last."
    "How can I risk everything I've believed in
if it's not supposed to last? Tell me that." He wrapped his arms
around her. "I'm feeling things I've never felt before and you say
it's not real?"
    Daphne looked at him sadly. "I don't have
any answers."
    "I want you so much I ache, Daph. That's got
to be lasting."
    Pulling back, he saw that her eyes had
puddled with tears. "I don't care what Leonard said. You have to
stay. There has to be a way to make him understand."
    She shook her head. "Oh, Nat. I never
thought you'd believe in something you can't see. You do believe,
don't you?"
    "I think I believe." He pushed away from
her. "And what's it getting me? A woman I can't have. What's the
point? Getting kicked in the heart? If this is what Leonard and
your Angelic Council wanted, they can take a flying leap."
    Daphne reached out and took his hand,
running it across her soft face. He gazed into her eyes, looking
for answers and finding they all hurt. If he believed in love, he
was certain he'd love her more than he'd ever love another woman.
Wasn't that enough? She was as good as they came and she couldn't
stay in his life?
    It couldn't be love. It was self interest,
surely? She made him feel good, like he had it in him to be a
wonderful, caring, giving person. A person who could be looked at
with respect. She made him hot. Hotter than he'd ever been for
another woman. Hot enough to make him long to be whatever it was
she wanted him to be, because he'd