Vampire Mine - Kerrelyn Sparks [16]
“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.”
She glanced down at her breasts. With the warmth of his hands gone, the nipples had reacted by turning tight and pebbly. “How . . . interesting.”
With a moan, he dragged his hands down his face. “Just kill me now.”
“I mean you no harm.”
“Then cover yerself before my eyes explode.”
She recalled how Adam and Eve had covered themselves in shame. “I’m so sorry.” She dragged the sheet up to her chin. “I didn’t realize I was . . . offending you.”
He made an odd noise, somewhere between a snort and a groan.
“I’m not accustomed to looking like this. We do occasionally take human form when we need to interact with mortals, but it’s merely an illusion. This body is different, though. It feels . . . real.”
“That it does,” he muttered.
“The pain is certainly real.” She sighed. “I fear I was given this body so I could fully experience pain.”
He turned his head toward her. “Ye’ve never had a body before?”
“No.” She peeked underneath the sheet at the breasts he’d found so offensive. They looked fairly normal to her.
Her eyes widened at the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs. “Good heavens!” She clutched the sheet against her chest. She’d never looked like that before.
He sat up. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I appear to be more human than I thought.”
His gaze drifted down to her lap, then slowly back up.
She realized, then, that he knew exactly what she was referring to. Her cheeks flooded with heat, a sudden and odd sensation, and she pressed a hand against her face. “I believe I’m running a fever.”
His eyes twinkled with amusement. “ ’Tis called a blush, lass.”
“Oh.” A dozen different emotions swirled inside her. Embarrassment, confusion, curiosity, pain, remorse, a terrifying fear that she’d never make it back to heaven, another fear that she was venturing into a dangerous unknown world of human sensation and emotion, and in the midst of it all, she felt a overwhelming urge to touch this man. It had been so long since she could touch a human without causing death.
“You—you never told me your name,” she whispered.
The amusement faded in his eyes. “I’m Connor. Connor Buchanan.”
“You found me in the woods. You saved me.”
He shrugged. “Anyone would have—” He froze when she touched his cheek.
“I remember hearing your voice. It was soft and lilting and gave me comfort.” She brushed her fingers along his jaw, marveling over the prickle of his whiskers against her fingertips. Angels never needed to shave. When they assumed human form, their skin was always smooth and perfect.
“Connor Buchanan,” she whispered, and noted his throat moving as he swallowed. “It’s so amazing that I can touch you. I’ve always found humans fascinating. So wild and imperfect.” She smoothed a finger over a small scar close to his chin where no whiskers grew. “And yet, so beautiful.”
His jaw shifted beneath her hand, and she drew back, feeling her cheeks grow warm once again. “Of course, I find all the Lord’s creations to be beautiful.”
“Really?” His mouth curled up. “Even a cockroach?”
Her cheeks blazed hotter. “Well, I must admit you look considerably better than a cockroach.”
“Such flattery. Be still my heart.”
She smiled. He was teasing her, much like her friend Buniel enjoyed doing. Her smile withered as she wondered if she’d ever see her best friend again. Or any of the Heavenly Host. Her predicament crashed down on her with a sudden onslaught of grief for the world she’d lost. Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t belong here.”
“Marielle—” Connor nodded when she looked at him. “I heard that man Zack call you by name. And I heard yer screams when he attacked you.”
“His name is Zackriel. He’s my—was my supervisor.”
“Ye