His voice. It was his voice shed heard while slipping in and out of consciousness. The lilting accent reminded her of the music she was accustomed to hearing in her mind.
She watched closely as he leaned over to slide the dagger into a sheath beneath a knee sock. Apparently, hed rushed into the room, ready to do battle in her defense. God might not have answered her prayer, but Hed provided her with a protector. Thank you, Lord.
With a sigh of grateful relief, she lowered her hands and the sheet to her lap. May I ask your name?
He glanced up at her, then straightened with a jerk. Holy Christ Almighty.
She frowned. No, I dont believe you are.
I dinna mean He shifted his gaze to a spot behind her and whispered, Oh, Christ.
Is He here? A surge of hope swelled inside her. She twisted to look, but pain ripped across her back. She cried out, doubling over to grip her knees.
Och, lass. He moved toward her. Tis sorry I am for yer suffering. Is there anything I can do?
She moaned, willing the pain to subside. The cushion she sat upon jiggled, and it took a moment for her to realize hed taken a seat next to her on the brown leather couch.
No. She straightened, wincing at the pain. You must keep your distance from me. I . . . I could be dangerous. Her wings were gone, her psychic connection to the Heavenly Host was gone, but she couldnt be sure that all her angelic powers were gone. If this man touched her, he might die.
His gaze dropped to her bare chest, then jerked away. We have to do something about yer brea I mean, yer wounds. On yer back. Ye probably need stitches.
Sew up her wing joints? No! She pressed a hand to her chest. Beneath her palm, her heart beat wildly.
He glanced at her hand, then looked away. We canna leave the wounds open. I He grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. Lass, I canna talk to you like this.
He looked like he was in pain. She wished she could comfort him, but she didnt dare touch him. Is something ailing you?
He opened his eyes, shooting her a fierce look. Ye doona know?
The rough edge to his voice made her skin prickle. His eyes darkened with a reddish tint. Her heart stuttered. Shed never seen human eyes do that. Demon eyes could, but she could have sworn this man was human.
For Gods sake, lass, cover yerself.
She was so stunned by the changing color of his eyes that she didnt realize that hed grabbed the edge of the sheet till she saw him lifting it up to her chest.
She gasped. Dont touch me! She squirmed back on the couch, kicking at him from under the safe barrier of the sheet. Her frantic actions ripped the sheet from his grip and caused them both to lose their balance.
She fell back, gasping when her back hit the cushioned arm of the couch just as he fell on top of her, his outstretched hands landing firmly on her breasts. She froze, terrified that she might have killed him.
With their faces only inches apart, their eyes met. The red sparks in his irises faded until only the smoky blue color remained. Seconds stretched into an eternity as she caught her first glimpse into his soul. A human soul. On the surface: honor, courage, strength. Beneath: loneliness, regret. And there was more. He was hiding something dark, something that caused him great pain.
He blinked, and she realized hed been staring into her eyes with the same intensity. He exhaled, his breath soft against her cheek. He was still alive.
Youre touching me, she whispered.
He reeled back, lunging to the other end of the couch. Forgive me. I
And yet, you still live.
Aye, I should be struck down. He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. God help me, I just groped an angel.
You know who I am?
Aye. He collapsed against the back sofa cushion. I dinna mean to . . . assault you.
You did nothing wrong. She sat up, wincing at the pain. You simply fell and caught yourself.
He snorted. Aye, and I have verra good aim.