Free Archangel's Kiss by Nalini Singh Page B

her wrist for a second before he dropped it and took a step back, breaking their connection. Ready to fight him for what she needed, she looked up . . . and froze. “Raphael.” Azure flames surged in those eyes, deadly as the angelfire he’d thrown at Uram in that final, cataclysmic fight.
    “Go to bed,” he said in a tone of voice so calm it was a sheet of ice.
    But the fire continued to burn. Feeling her heart spasm at the lethal edge of it, she wrapped her arms around her body, covering her breasts. She didn’t know if she was protecting herself or him. “Will you come back?”
    “Are you sure you want me to?” He’d turned and was through the balcony doors before she could answer.
    She watched him take off into the infinite darkness of a mountain night, before closing the doors with fingers that had dug dark red crescents into her own skin and crawling into bed. But though she pulled every single one of the blankets over her, it took her a long time to stop shivering.
    She’d thought she’d known, had thought she’d understood. But she hadn’t. Ever since she’d woken, she’d been treating Raphael as if he was “safe.” Tonight, she’d had a rude awakening. Raphael would never be safe. All it would take was one slip and he could kill her.
    Was she strong enough to take that risk, that chance?
    “You’ve made me a little mortal.”
    He’d said that to her the night she’d shot him, the night he’d bled so much that she’d cried, her hands trembling as she attempted to stop the crimson flow of blood. Had he been afraid then? Did Raphael even understand fear? She didn’t know, wasn’t sure he’d answer her if she asked.
    Elena knew fear far too intimately. But, she thought, her muscles relaxing, she hadn’t been afraid at the end. When her body lay shattered in Raphael’s arms, she hadn’t been afraid. And that was her answer.
    Yes , she said speaking to Raphael, not knowing the strength of their mental connection, not sure how far it’d reach. Yes, I want you to come back.
    He didn’t answer, and she didn’t know if he’d even heard her. But deep in the night, she felt the caress of lips against the curve of her neck, sensed the dark heat of a big male body curving around hers, her wings trapped in between . . . an indescribable intimacy between two angels.

8
    E lena woke alone, but there was a cup of coffee waiting for her on the nightstand—right next to Destiny’s Rose. Raphael had given her the priceless treasure—a sculpture carved impossibly from a single diamond—not long after they first met. She kept trying to return it, only to find it back on her bedside table the next morning.
    Eyes on the gift, one that was undeniably romantic, she struggled up into a sitting position and drew in the intoxicating scent of fresh coffee. However, she’d hardly taken a sip when she felt it—the cool stroke of satin blended with the promise of a pain that would hurt oh-so-good.
    “Dmitri.” Throat husky, she put down the cup and tugged the sheet above her breasts.
    Just in time.
    The vampire walked in with the most perfunctory of knocks. “You’re late for training.”
    Her eye went to the envelope in his hand. “What’s that?”
    “It’s from your father.” He handed it over. “Be down in half an hour.”
    She barely heard him, her eyes fixated on that envelope. What did Jeffrey Deveraux want now? “I’ll be there.” Words forced out past the rocks in her throat.
    Dmitri left her with a kiss of diamonds and cream, a sensual taunt that trapped the air in her throat, made her thighs press together in involuntary reaction. But the distraction was momentary. All too soon, she was alone, staring at the envelope as if it might grow fangs and strike. “Don’t be a coward, Ellie,” she told herself and reached out to slit it open. It was, she saw, addressed to her care of the Guild.
    Her lips twisted. How he must’ve hated that, having to go through his daughter’s filthy, inhuman