Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) (Reading Sample), Felicity Heaton [ereader android .TXT] 📗

feel his mouth on hers again, reaffirming everything he had told her before, making her feel that she wasn’t going crazy and that things would somehow work out between them.

He bent and scooped her up into his arms, turned and beat his wings. They lifted off into the air and Asmodeus beat his wings again, carrying them over a gap between the buildings. He wobbled and she snapped her head around, catching him with his eyes closed and a frown pinching his eyebrows.

“Asmodeus?” She clutched his cheeks.

He growled, twisted awkwardly and dropped. She threw her arms around his neck and held on, screwing her eyes shut. He landed hard, stumbled forwards a few steps and eventually righted himself.

Liora opened her eyes and smoothed her thumbs across his cheeks, her fingertips resting along his jaw. “You need to eat. Your blood sugar will be hitting rock bottom.”

He frowned, lifted his eyelids, and stared at her. Red ringed his irises.

“I am fine.”

Liora sighed and stroked his jaw, searching for a way of making him see that she wasn’t mocking him and she didn’t want to make him feel weak. She wanted to make him strong again. She cursed Apollyon for acting the way he had towards his twin, putting it in his head that he was weak because he needed to eat and hadn’t realised that hunger was making him sick.

She had to get him to eat. How?

She smiled.

“Well, I’m hungry and I’m going to eat, so you might as well come with me and eat too.” Before he could respond, she tapped the last of her power to teleport them to an alley behind the main street where her favourite café was located.

Asmodeus frowned at her and set her down.

She looked him over. “Am I seeing you as everyone else will be?”

He nodded. That wasn’t good. She couldn’t take him to the café when he was sporting wings and partial armour.

“You’ll have to change your appearance,” she said and he stared at her, his gaze focused and intense. After half a minute, she added, “Done?”

He shook his head and his handsome face twisted into a black scowl. His hands clenched at his sides, the toned muscles of his forearms following them, giving her a brief flash of how sexy his body could be, exuding strength and power.

“I do not want to go with you.” Asmodeus turned away from her and folded his arms across his chest.

Liora’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead as it dawned on her that he was too proud to admit that he had tried and had found he didn’t have the strength left to change his appearance.

“That’s cool. I’ll just go and get some stuff and bring it back here. I hate how crowded it gets there. It’s nice here.” It wasn’t nice at all but her only other option was to call him on his problem and have him mad at her, and then he would try to leave her again.

She left before he could say anything, hobbling out of the side road and into the main avenue. Her ankle was killing her and she wished she had kept a sliver of magic, enough to take some of the pain away and kick start her body’s natural healing ability.

There were plenty of people coming and going along the Champs Elysees. She looked further up the wide tree-lined street to her right and smiled. The café was open, the cream awning stretching out from the beautiful old sandstone building. Parasols covered elegant black wrought-iron tables and chairs on the wide pavement in front of it. She would have liked to sit there with Asmodeus, enjoying sweet pastries and the early morning sun. Maybe they could do that some other time.

Liora brought her black bag around and rifled through it for her purse. Asmodeus would need something sweet, and something substantial. The café wasn’t likely to have all the baguettes made for the day at this early hour. Savoury was probably off the menu. She hoped Asmodeus liked sweet things.

She entered the small café and made her way to the long counter that was covered in tall curved glass that showed off the beautiful array of sweets they offered. Her gaze darted from one delicious pastry to another. One of the staff asked her what she wanted and she ended up ordering more than she needed, and two bottles of orange juice to go.

She wasn’t sure what sort of pastries Asmodeus would like, or whether he would like them at all. He had never left Hell before and she presumed that meant he had never eaten before too. He had some serious catching up to do and she couldn’t wait to see what he made of the things she had bought. Introducing him to the pleasures of food was going to be interesting.

Liora paid for her purchases and made her way back to the alley. Asmodeus was sitting on the step of one of the buildings lining the narrow street, his wings carefully placed so the longest black feathers curled around his ankles. He looked pale, his skin almost milk-white against his wild black hair and thick dark lashes. He lifted his head and gazed at her as she hobbled towards him, his golden eyes warming and then burning like fire as they took her in. Heat chased in the wake of his eyes, setting her body aflame and stirring a different sort of hunger.

She wanted to drop her things beside him, settle herself astride his lithe muscular thighs, and run her fingers through his hair, raking the satiny black strands back from his sculpted face. She would force him to tip it back and look up at her, and the action would cause his lips to part. She would swoop on them then, feeling their firmness beneath hers, waiting for him to hit that point where he found the courage to take the lead and showed her a hint of the passion he held locked beneath his incredible exterior.

His gaze dropped to the bag she carried, reminding her that he had to eat before she could do anything with him or he was liable to pass out. She sat on the step below him, took the white box of pastries out of the carrier bag and carefully untied the ribbon. She pushed the lid up to reveal the neat rows of sweet treats and her mouth watered.

Asmodeus stared.

“What are those?” He looked curious. That was good. Maybe he would eat some for her.

“Pastries.” She plucked a strawberry mille-feuille out of the box and offered it to him.

He took it from her and peered at it, turning it this way and that and getting cream and icing all over his hand.

“It’s my favourite.” She picked up the other one she had bought and bit into it. The layers of fine crisp puff pastry, custard-cream and strawberries were delicious and she moaned and took another bite, unable to resist the tempting allure of the sweet heavenly confection.

When she risked a glance at Asmodeus, his pastry was gone and he was licking his fingers. She moaned for a different reason, her head filling with thoughts about what he could do with that tongue and some cream, and he looked at her.

There was a spot of cream at the left corner of his mouth and she couldn’t resist. She reached up, swiped it off and sucked her finger clean. His gaze darkened and zeroed in on her lips. Her heart fluttered in response, shivery heat washing through her and making her want to keep sucking her finger and giving him wicked ideas.

Food first. Fun later.

She finished her pastry and offered him the box.

He took a small rectangular slice of chocolate gateaux and devoured it in two bites before taking a pain au chocolat, and then a wedge of tarte au citron. He pulled a face on eating that one, his nose wrinkling up.

“Not into the citrus fruits?” she said and he shook his head. She pulled the bottle of orange juice from her bag and smiled apologetically. “You might not like this then.”

He took it anyway and inspected the plastic bottle. Rather than taking the bottle from him and twisting the cap off, something that would probably make him feel foolish again, she took her own bottle from the bag and opened it intentionally slowly.

Asmodeus mimicked her, acting like a pro and snapping the cap off his bottle. He drank half the contents in one go and then frowned at the bottle.

“It is not as bad as the sweet thing.” He set the bottle down beside him on the stone step and took the other slice of chocolate gateaux, and then paused when her gaze lovingly followed it towards him. “Would you like some?”

She had bought the pastries, so she deserved at least a portion of the gateaux. It was her second favourite item.

Asmodeus held it out to her and rather than taking it, she leaned over and bit into it, her gaze on his the whole time. His golden irises darkened again, his pupils expanding to relay his desire. They only darkened further when she licked her lips.

“Delicious,” she whispered and he growled, his gaze boring into her mouth, robbing her of her breath and making her silently beg him to kiss her.

He hesitated and she cursed him when he sat back, taking the remains of the gateaux slice with him. He devoured it and set the paper case back in the box.

Liora stuffed her face with a piece of tarte tatin. It wasn’t as sweet as kissing Asmodeus would have been and it didn’t satisfy her in the slightest.

“I enjoy these pastries,” Asmodeus said and licked his lips clean, enticing her into kissing him if he wouldn’t kiss her.

He finished his orange juice, leaned back and sighed. He was looking better already, his skin no longer a sickly hue and his strength returning. She could feel his power rising again, coming back to the level it usually rested at when he was around her.

“Are you feeling better?” She screwed up the paper her tarte tatin had been on and tossed it back into the box.

He should be feeling sick after eating that many pastries but, then again, she had seen Apollyon devour an entire chocolate cake in one sitting without it giving him an upset stomach.

He frowned. “My head still hurts.”

“It’ll pass.” Had he never had a headache before either? What else was new to him?

He lowered his eyes to the road and stared at it, his gaze turning distant and cold again. He stayed like it for so long that the worry that had faded on hearing he was feeling better began to return.

“Are you still unwell?” she said.

He blinked and his attention snapped to her, a flicker of surprise in his golden eyes, as if he had lost track of the world and was shocked to see her sitting beside him.

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I am being compelled to return.”

The Devil was ordering him to return to Hell. Liora’s worry returned, worse than ever. If he went back to Hell, would the Devil punish him for killing the angel and lying to him about her?

What if he didn’t go back?

“Will the Devil send another bad angel after you if you don’t go to him?” she said and his eyes opened and slid across to her.

“I am a bad angel… the baddest.”

Liora blushed at that, wicked scenarios running through her mind. He quirked his right eyebrow at her reaction and she could understand why it had confused him. He had meant to place distance between them, warning her away from him, and she had the terrible feeling she knew why.

He stood, brushed the crumbs off the strips of armour around his hips and stepped down onto the pavement.

“Return to Serenity and stay with them. You will be safe there. I must go.”

The ground bucked and cracked, a glowing fiery fault