He stepped closer and Violet simply stared. His vibrant eyes weren’t quite perfectly blue—one had a patch of another colour. She’d have to get closer to determine it. Part of Violet really wanted to get closer.
‘It isn’t you, is it?’ he asked.
‘Do they look like they’d fit me?’ She’d topple over if she tried to wear those wings. ‘I’m more elf than angel.’
His gaze dropped and he slowly scrutinised her scarlet velvet dress. She was suddenly so engulfed in heat, she had to look down. Which meant she was faced withhisstunningly muscular physique.
‘Alternatively,’ he said huskily. ‘You’re a sweet-looking but inherently dangerous demon.’
‘Demon?’ Her gaze shot back to him.
But his attention was gone. He glanced behind her and his frown suddenly returned ten-fold. ‘Watch—’
She was abruptly jostled from behind. ‘Oh!’
As she was almost knocked off-balance, he swooped. Violet gasped. There was such strength in his hold as he lifted her and turned them both. He pressed her back against the glass store-front and stood in front of her, sheltering her from the... She didn’t even know what. Instead she gazed up, fascinated by the glower in his angel eyes. The angle of his jaw was even more defined as he gritted his teeth. There was literally a stampede of people rushing past them. Actually, they were not really people.
‘What the...?’ Violet was shocked.Moreshockingly, he was pressed against her. Those wings were lifted above him like a protective umbrella and she didn’t want to move. Ever.
She would have giggled at the ridiculousness of it, only adrenalin surged as if she were in real danger. As if this really were serious. The crowd ran past them in a groaning, amorphous mess of limbs, body paint and excitement. She’d not even heard them until they were upon her.
‘Zombies.’ He shook his head slightly.
There had to be a hundred if not more. A zombie rampage.
Violet didn’t care if they were zombies, vampires or werewolves. Her attention was sucked straight ahead of her. It wasn’t just his heat but the pulsing strength of his muscles. He was bodyguard-built and, shockingly, she was more than melting. She was almost purring like a kitten curled up on a lap feeling all safe and cared for. She should wriggle a little, step aside, because this proximity was too intimate. Yet she didn’t move. She didn’t want to breathe and break the spell.
‘Zombies?’ She’d been so focused on figuring out the peculiarity in his eyes that she’d not heard the noise rising behind her. ‘I didn’t think they were supposed to move so fast. I thought they were supposed to be slow and fall over their feet.’
‘Maybe they’re vampire zombies,’ he muttered. ‘Either way...you okay?’ He stared into her eyes and his annoyance morphed into something else. ‘Sorry if I crushed you.’
But he didn’t step back, even if he too had realised that they were in a clinch that was no longer necessary. It was an incredibly comfortable clinch. Their bodies moulded together, fitting snugly, as her size and his strength matched somehow. It ought to have been impossible, given he was huge and she was petite, but it worked—dangerously well.
And now she knew that patch in his left eye was brown. Topaz, really. It almost had a glow to it. It was uneven, imperfect, intriguing. Mesmerised, she couldn’t stop staring.
‘You moved fast,’ she muttered, dissolving just like that into a breathless female.
‘Instinct.’
Yeah. He was naturally protective. She’d been around protective people her whole life and she wasn’t supposed to want to sink against someone and simply...stay. Only that was exactly what she wanted this second—to take shelter in his arms. But in a swoop of his lashes that sentiment changed—to take even more appreciation of his strength, of the spark between them. She lowered her gaze, almost dazed. She couldn’t take the heat in those gorgeous, striking eyes.
But then she saw it. Instinctively, she put a hand on his chest where the crisp white shirt was now stained. ‘You’re bleeding.’
‘It’s fake. And it’s not mine. Don’t worry, I’m fine.’
She looked back up to his eyes. She didn’t believe him. She’d lied in the exact same way so many times.
I’m fine.
The blood was fake but there was a real wound there. A deep one. She could feel his strong heart beat beneath her palm. His solid, hot muscles had flinched at her first touch. Not a zombie. Not an angel either. He was all man and she simply couldn’t lift her hand away from him.
This should have been too intimate but those wings were like a barrier from the rest of the world, enclosing them both in a safe haven. Her back was against the glass and with him pressed against her she felt a whisper of temptation. The urge was so out of character for her, it should be shocking. But if he lowered his head now she would kiss him.
‘The wings have lost more feathers,’ she said breathlessly, distracting herself, because this was a total random stranger. ‘It’s a shame. It would’ve taken someone a lot of time to make them.’ They were cardboard, glue, feathers and a few million diamantes to make them sparkle.
‘Except they discarded them before midnight,’ he pointed out.
‘Did they, though? What if they weren’t left? Maybe someone was going to come back for them. You’ve effectively stolen them.’