“Screwing up? He has a 100 percent success rate.”
“Not for much longer if he disregards you as handler and manages Ms. Hollis by himself. One of them will be killed. As high profile as he is, the loss of him or his Mark under my watch would ruin centuries of prestige. I will not allow it.”
Reed’s jaw tightened. “You can’t expect me to follow the rules if you don’t.”
“The three of you will be the death of either me or yourselves.” Raguel stepped closer until only an inch or two separated them. “Whatever interest you have in Ms. Hollis, I suggest you keep it strictly professional. You have been given an unassailable position of power over your brother through Ms. Hollis. Keeping them together should be your priority. Now, I have to get to the airport to catch my flight. If you still have reservations when I return, we can discuss it further at that time.”
“She might be dead by then.”
“If that is God’s will.” Clutching his hat to his head, Raguel ran the distance to the chopper and climbed in.
God’s will. Reed spit the bile out of his mouth. God’s hand was far from this, separated from the mechanics by layers of seraphim, hashmallim, and angels. For some time now, Reed had begun to wonder if there was a lesson to be learned in the distance between Jehovah and the world. Perhaps it was to remind them that they couldn’t hack it on their own. He tried to tell himself that the purpose was edifying—the harder they worked, the more they would appreciate the fruit of their labors. But truly, machinations like this always tested his faith.
“Damn you, Cain.”
Once again his brother was disrupting the order of things, and Reed was expected to bend and adjust to make it work.
As the helicopter lifted into the air, Reed’s mind sifted through the moves available to him with the same fury with which the wind whipped through his hair. He wanted another round with Eve, but making that move could push Cain completely out of the picture and without Cain, Reed would lose his chance to achieve his ambitions.
He couldn’t let that happen. This was his best opportunity to further his long-held position that he was ready for advancement to archangel.
Reed knew, without any doubt, that he could manage a firm and manage it well. The world’s population had grown exponentially. The existing seven firms were overtaxed, understaffed, and the archangels heading them were overappreciated because of it. They lusted for God’s approval and infighting was rampant. Expansion was needed and Reed was determined to step into play when it happened.
Fucking Eve was hot as hell, but the pleasure was fleeting. If he kept his dick away from her, he could enjoy the extended satisfaction of governing something that Cain thought belonged solely to him.
He shouldn’t be conflicted at all. There was no contest between the two options—Eve or the realization of all his goals.
“Eve,” he growled, running his hands through his hair.
She was as helpless and vulnerable as a field mouse and Infernals were circling her like ravenous hawks. Hell, he was circling her.
Beware of the apples.
He should have foreseen how this would turn out when she gave him that scorching look in the lobby that first day.
Shit.
Reed spun on his heel and left the roof.
Alec pulled to a stop at a red light and balanced his bike with one leg on the ground. Because of Raguel’s thirst for God’s approval, Alec had known it would be risky to keep Eve close to home, but he never thought Raguel would risk her deliberately. If he’d even suspected that as a possibility, he would have requested a different firm. Antarctica, perhaps. Or Australia.
His knuckles whitened on the handlebars. He was being leashed by the one thing that he gave a damn about, which left him cornered, trapped between a disapproving God, an antagonistic brother, and an overly ambitious archangel who would do anything to achieve his aims. And Eve. Sassy, sexy Eve was the glue holding it all together.
Raguel assumed Alec wanted to shed the mark and return to a normal life. That was his biggest miscalculation. He thought the lure of double indulgences and the freedom they implied would be irresistible. He didn’t understand that Alec had one skill, one talent—killing. Alec could no more turn his back on that and live a “normal” life, than he could stop loving Evangeline Hollis. But his ambition to head his own firm was a secret no one knew. He kept it close to his heart, hidden until the day he could present it as more than a pipe dream.
Eve.
Despite the volatility of his thoughts, nothing could fully distract him from the feel of her soft, warm body wrapped around his back. She was so delicate and fragile. He would have to train her himself for now, a solution that was less than perfect. He’d worked alone for so long. He had no idea where to begin, what to focus on, or . . . anything. He was completely clueless.
Eve tapped him on the thigh and shouted to be heard over the rumbling of the engine. “Go home. I want to check on my mom.”
Home. With Eve. His mouth quirked with morbid humor. The part of him that wasn’t homicidal was deeply enamored with that dream.
He nodded. When the traffic light changed, he altered his direction and headed for Eve’s place. This time, he didn’t need to wait for a resident to follow into the parking garage. Eve typed in the code and he rolled into the spot adjacent to the one that held her car. His and hers. The act of taking the place reserved for the significant other in her life affected him in an unexpected way—he grew hard. Dismounting from the bike became a difficult task, but he managed.
The knowledge that their time together was temporary . . . the threats against her . . . the fear that he might not be enough to save her . . . the pheromones her mark exuded . . . His body responded with a primitive desire to claim what was his. When she pulled the helmet off her head and shook out her hair, it was like waving a cape before a raging bull. He struggled against the sudden ferocious need to pin her to the wall and ride her to the finish. He backed away, putting distance between them.
She glanced at him and stilled. He watched the heat he felt spread to her, igniting her dark eyes with a sexual hunger that might match his. This wasn’t the timid, inexperienced girl he had loved ten years ago. That girl had quivered when he touched her and cried when he kissed her. The woman who eyed him now made him quiver.
Eve locked the strap of her helmet to the backrest loop on his bike and muttered, “Catch me.”
That was the only warning he got before she launched herself at him. As slight as she was, the mark gave her force and velocity. He stumbled back at the impact, his keys and helmet crashing to the cement floor. Her legs circled his hips, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her mouth met his without finesse, her soft lips slanting across his with a desperation that stole both his breath and his wits.
She tightened her thighs, levering up, forcing his neck back so that she hovered over him. Her position of dominance rocked him so hard there was no way they were going to make it upstairs before he got inside her. The scent of her lust was heady, sweeping through his senses and across his skin. There was no other fragrance in the world like it, the sensual fragrance of cherries, sweet and ripe. The mark intensified the smell, made it more luxurious, like whipped cream on top.
He gripped her ass with one hand and fisted the other into the thick silk of her hair. As Eve writhed over him, he tore his mouth away, gasping. In response, her fingers tangled in his locks and commanded his attention. His gaze was snared by hers. She was as hot for it as he was, but the determined glint in her eyes told him she wasn’t yet completely lost to lust.
Alec set his mind to making her that way. He released her hair and cupped her breast, kneading the full weight, groaning in pleasure as her nipple hardened between the clasp of his fingertips.
Eve leaned closer, their harsh breaths mingling, her tresses shielding their faces in an ebony curtain. “Someone’s watching us, right?” she whispered. “And listening?”
“What?” He urged her lower, notching the heated juncture between her thighs against his aching cock. He stroked her along his length. She took over, gyrating fluidly against him, making him shudder.
“My condo,” she persisted, her eyes feverishly bright. “The common areas. Cameras. Microphones. There is no privacy anywhere, am I right? Gadara is watching and listening.”
Reality pierced through the haze of his desire. “Probably.” He remembered that Raguel was trustee of the community and growled, “Most likely. Yes.”
“We can’t talk freely.”
“Who wants to talk?”
The clearing of a throat behind them jerked them both to an awareness of how public their ardor was. Their heads turned in unison to find Mrs. Basso standing by the mailboxes. She was facing away from them, awkwardly struggling with the lock to her box, but it was obvious she’d seen more than any of them wanted her to see.
“Put me down,” Eve hissed.
Alec set her on her feet. “If the kiss didn’t shock Mrs. Basso, my raging hard-on might do it.”
Eve smacked him. “Behave.”
“You attacked me, angel.”
She winked. “Made you smile.”
He stared at her a moment, lost in a déjà vu moment from a decade before. He laughed softly.
“I’m losing my touch,” he drawled, adjusting himself in an unsuccessful bid for comfort. “You were thinking about Gadara while making out with me.”
“I heard the camera move.”
Alec paused at that. He wasn’t too surprised that he hadn’t heard anything. Disgruntled, yes, but not surprised. For the first time in his life, he’d been given something he wanted and he was enjoying her to the fullest. It was Eve’s precise hearing that made the statement arresting. “You heard the camera move,” he repeated.
Her smile was wicked. “I guess we didn’t quite reach the brain cell frying point.”
“Next time,” he promised, bending down to collect his helmet and keys. “You’re a smart cookie, angel. Turns me on.”
“What if I didn’t have a fondness for James Bond and Jason Bourne? I’d be giving Pamela Anderson a run for the money in the sex tape department.”
