Some Kind of Angel (8 page)

“I’ll certainly try,” Gabriel said, in the same somber tone.

“Well, I…”  Suddenly, Leslie seemed to be self-conscious of her nightwear.  She pulled the belt of her robe around her and tied it tightly.  “I’ll leave you gentlemen to it,” she said, and made a quick exit through the door.

Gabriel turned his stern gaze to Michael.  “She’s a charming woman.  You aren’t in love with her, are you?”

“Of course not,” Michael said quickly.  “You know that’s not allowed.”

“Neither is marrying a woman to give her baby a name.”

“Could we get this visit to the council over with, please?  I have a great deal to do in a short amount time.  I have to see about making a living.”

“Once you go up to the council and make your decision known to marry this woman, you will be unable to use your powers to accomplish things.”

He hadn’t thought of that.  “Then I can’t go just yet.  You must give me time.”

Gabriel knew that if he desired, he could put his hand on Michael right now, and it would be all over.  Without conjuring up a way to make a living, Michael would not be able to come back.  It was the right thing to do.  Gabriel reached out his hand to grasp Michael’s arm, but the vision of Leslie’s beautiful face appeared in his mind.  He should at least give Michael twenty-four hours.  What was a day in an eternal lifetime?  Gabriel would have to answer to the council about his failure to bring Michael to them.  He would simply have to take the blame.  He would be reprimanded, he knew.  His shoulders were broad, he could take it.

“Go then, and see what arrangements you can make.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.  You are a good friend.”

“I wonder,” Gabriel murmured, and with a wave of his hand, he floated upward and disappeared.  Michael decided time wasn’t on his side and hurried out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Dressed now in jeans and a t-shirt, I stood out in the hall and knocked on Michael’s door.  The door creaked open.  “Michael, when are you going to listen to me about locking your door?  I wanted to invite you and Gabriel over for coffee and a scone.”

The apartment was empty.  Neither man was there.  I scanned the room.  How could they possibly have disappeared so quickly?  “Michael.”  I was a little freaked out.  “Michael?”

The New York City streets were as crowded as ever.  Michael strode along, glad for the exercise.  It always seemed stuffy and confining in his apartment.  His destination was East Village.

The
For Sale
sign had not yet appeared in the front window, but with his magic, he knew it soon would.  Or perhaps not.  If he were successful today, the sign would never appear at all.

He hadn’t remembered the smell.  There was a certain smell to antique things that was tolerable, but this was most unpleasant.  The first thing he would have to do would be to install an air cleaner.  A big one.

Two hours later, the deal was done.  Bernard looked up from his desk and smoothed his hand through his thinning white hair.  “I’m sure you and Leslie will be able to make a success of this place.  I’m glad it’s going into good hands like Leslie’s.”  Again with the hand on his hair.  “There is something I should tell you.  I…”

“Yes?” Michael put on his most beatific smile.

Bernard shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  You’ll find out soon enough, anyway.”

“What will I find out, Mr. Capperelli?”  He waited, standing quietly and still smiling.

Bernard stood and grasped Michael’s hand, shaking it up and down with vigor.  “You got this store at a bargain price.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Don’t you want to know why I was so eager to sell?”

“Of course, if you wish to tell me.”

Bernard was perspiring now, and Michael wanted to take pity on him and put him out of his misery.  But the man needed to confess the truth.  Michael just hoped that he would.

“I wanted some time with my family before I grow too old to enjoy them.”

“That is understandable…and most fortuitous for me.”

Bernard turned to go.  Michael sent him the message. 
Do the right thing.”
  Capperelli grabbed his hat and coat and had his hand on the doorknob.  Michael sent another message. 
You’ll never feel right about this until you tell me.
  Bernard turned back.  “The reason you got this store at such a bargain price was because…” he swallowed, “a certain crime family has been coercing me to give them money each month.”  Bernard stared at Michael with tortured eyes.  “For a man, you look so innocent.  I couldn’t leave without letting you know.  They will expect you to contribute to their coffers just as I did.”

Michael came to Bernard and put his hand on Bernard’s shoulder.  “You did the right thing, telling me this.”

“I suppose you’ll want me to buy the store back.”

“Quite the contrary.  I look forward to the challenge of dealing with a family of dubious honesty.”

Bernard shook his head.  “You may look innocent, but you’ve got guts, I’ll say that.” He moved as if to go and then stopped.  “There is a figurine in the back.  A male angel.  I always liked that figure.  I put it up on the shelf but whenever anyone expressed an interest in it, I told them it was a personal family heirloom and not for sale.  I had this crazy idea that it was a good luck omen that kept me safe through my dealings with the Family.  You might want to go back and take a look at it.  I have a feeling you’re going to need a good luck charm.”  Bernard sketched a wave and went out through the door.

Michael had spoken bravely to Bernard, but as he looked around at what was now his shop, he did not feel so brave.  Leslie would be a great help to be sure, and it would be good to have her beside him every day.  But if he went up to the council and came down without his powers, he would be a plain, ordinary man.  Would he be equal to dealing with a crime family?  If the Boss, whoever he was, sent his underlings to threaten him, the police wouldn’t be able to help him.  If he could hold the council off for another twenty-four hours…

In the meantime, he had to go back to Monikers and give his notice.  He supposed it was not exactly cricket to tell them he was quitting the next day, but he didn’t have a choice.

“This is really stupid,” I said, and tossed my pencil down on the script in disgust.

Marion, who was home getting ready to leave for her performance in
Man of La Mancha,
said, “What’s stupid, the script?”

“No.  What’s stupid is, I can’t do this without Michael.”

“So?  Go over to his apartment.”

“I can’t.  He’s working at Moniker’s for me.”

“That man is a saint.”

Leslie, startled, said, “Why would you say that?”

“Why?  Because he’s like Superman, going around doing good deeds.”

“That’s the Boy Scouts.”

“Well, I guess if you can’t work without him,” she waggled her eyebrows in a Groucho Marx move, “you’ll just have to wait until he comes home.”  Marian applied more mascara to her eyelashes.  “So you’re really not going to marry that gorgeous hunk of man?  Now,
that’s
stupid.”

“I hardly know him.  I can’t ask him to ruin his life to save mine.”

“Why not?  It’s not like you tied him down to the bed and forced him to propose to you.  Although if you don’t marry him, I might try that.”

“You wouldn’t.  Michael’s too nice to be bullied that way.”

“Like I said, he’s a saint.”

“No man is that perfect.  I should know.  I had one I thought was perfect and look what happened to me.”

“It would be the perfect revenge if you did marry Michael.  Think of running into Adam into a cocktail party and saying, “Oh, Adam.  I’d like you to meet my beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful husband, Michael O’Malley.  At which point, Michael carefully sets his drink down on the nearest table and punches Adam squarely in the face.”

“You have a decided streak of mayhem in you, Marian.”

“I like to see people get their just dues.”  She picked up her purse and did a twirl in her jeans and t-shirt.  “How do I look?”

“In that stage make up of heavy duty mascara and red lipstick?  Like a country girl hooker.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Don’t get picked up by the police.”

“Not to worry.  I have a cousin on the force.”

“You have a cousin darn near everywhere,” I said, trying not to sound envious.

When Marian was gone and the apartment was quiet, I threw the script down on the breakfast bar and propped my chin on my hand, genuine thinker stuff.  Why couldn’t I think?  If I didn’t marry Michael, I’d have to stay in New York over Thanksgiving.  I didn’t dare go home.  The thought was depressing.  If there was ever a time I needed to be with my family, it was now, when it seemed the whole world had turned against me.  Well, not the whole world.  There was Michael, beautiful, kind, Michael.  I couldn’t take advantage of the one good man left in the world.  I had to set him free from his promise of marriage.

Michael was in the back hall that served as a cloakroom for the help at Moniker’s, hanging up his apron, when Ned accosted him.  “So you’re leaving.  What’s the matter?  Competition too tough for you?”  Ned was four inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter than Michael but that didn’t stop him from showering Michael with his scorn.

“No,” Michael said quietly.  “I bought an antique store and Leslie and I are going into business together.”

“An antique store?” Ned scoffed.  “That’s an excellent way to lose your shirt.”

“I don’t plan on taking it off.”

“I meant you’ll lose every penny you have.  What boat did you arrive on, anyway?”

“I did not come here on a boat.  I came by…air.”

“I just meant you’re some kind of stupid idiot who doesn’t understand our language.” 

“I understand the English language very well.  I have been listening to it for one hun…a very long time.”

“Not long enough, evidently.”

“Was there anything else you had to say to me besides mocking my understanding of your vitriolic speech?”

“Who do you think you are, talking like some jacked up fancy professor from Harvard?”

Jerome entered the cloakroom and took a step toward Ned.  “Back it up, Nedster.  Who do
you
think
you
are, Al Pacino?”

“Of course you’d defend this guy.”

“Just pick up your marbles and go home, okay?  Michael’s going to be out of our lives tomorrow.  And it’s a damn shame, I say.”

Michael shrugged into his jacket and turned his back on his erstwhile fellow waiters.  “I’ll say goodbye now, gentlemen.”  He said the words with a polite bow.

“Good riddance.”  Ned couldn’t resist throwing the final dart.

In his apartment, Michael kicked off his shoes and sank down on the davenport.  Why did mortals keep themselves so bound up in these silly clothes anyway?  He went into his minuscule bathroom and stripped to step under his tepid shower.  Water must always be a balm to humans. He finished up soaping and rinsing his body and stepped out of the shower to towel himself off when the bathroom door opened. 

Leslie stood on the threshold with a frying pan in her hand, wearing nothing but a shorty nightgown that exposed every inch of her beautiful legs. 

Oh, no.  There he stood in all his nude glory, exactly like Marian wanted.  He was…beautiful.  Ripped abs and lower, a lovely nest of dark hair where his equipment lay.  Then there were those long, muscled legs and beautiful feet. 
Brain, send signal to mouth.  Say something.  Anything.  Except what you’re thinking.
  “I didn’t hear you come up the stairs.  I know you always leave the door unlocked and I thought someone had broken into your apartment.”

“To take a shower in my commodious bathroom?” he said, smiling.

“Michael, could you…ah, cover yourself?”

“Why?  You’ve been intimate with Adam.  Surely you are acquainted with the male physique.”

“I am.  I’m just not acquainted with
your
male physique.”

“There’s a difference?”  He smiled at me as if I were a child.  At the moment I felt like one, a kid in a candy store without any money to spend.

“Well, you’re more…ripped.”

“Ripped?  I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you have a model perfect muscled chest.  I need to…leave.”

Michael took pity on her and wrapped a towel around his waist.  “Is this better?”

“Not much.  I can still see those gorgeous abs.”

“I got them on special order,” Michael said, smiling.”

“Would you loan me that catalog?”  I went out into the tiny living room, hoping that putting him out of my sight would make my heart stop jumping around like a rabbit and my body stop burning all over with…desire.  Not just a little desire.  A four alarm, flaming red-hot desire. 

He followed me out, much to my complete dismay and settled down on the couch, his towel parting just enough for me to see all of those muscled thighs right up to the top of them.

“Michael, don’t you have any…modesty?”

“I guess not.”  Humans were really a strange lot.  They were given beautiful bodies and then developed a fear of looking at them.

“Maybe you should go back to that catalog where you ordered your abs and see if they have modesty listed under the m’s next to the mittens.”  I found the far corner of the couch and sat down.

“What are mittens?”

“You’re from Ireland and you don’t know what mittens are?”

He did not know how to answer that, so he was silent.

Leslie sighed.  “They are gloves with the fingers all together.”  She held up her hand to show him.

“I see.”

“You’re not really from Ireland, are you?”

If he lied, Gabriel would ping him.  If he told the truth, Gabriel would ping him.  It was, in Jeremy’s vernacular, a lose-lose situation.  “Does it really matter all that much where I come from?”

“No.  It only matters that you tell me the truth.”

Inspiration hit.  “Then no, Leslie, I’m not from Ireland.  I’m from Florida, just as you are.”

“Why didn’t you say so in the beginning?”

“I guess…I didn’t think you would believe me.”

“I’m not sure I believe you now.”

“Was there a reason you came across the hall?”

“I…no…yes.  I came to tell you that I have decided we shouldn’t get married.  Just because my life is ruined, doesn’t mean I want to ruin yours.”

“You will not be ruining my life, Leslie.  You will be enriching it.”

“Now, see?  There you go.  Saying exactly the right thing.  Do you know how difficult it is to resist you when you always say the right thing?”

He smiled and rose from the couch.  “Very difficult, I hope.  Perhaps impossible.”  He came to me and, watching my face for any sign of dismay, he brought me into his arms.  “Please do not resist me anymore, sweet Leslie.”  And he bent his head and kissed me.  Unlike the first time, this kiss was slow and deliberate, a complete taking of my lips. Then, ever so easily, he slid his tongue across the opening of my mouth, asking for entry.  Stunned by my body’s reaction to being held so gently in Michael’s arms, I did what he wanted and opened for him.  Then he was inside, exploring me, tangling his tongue with mine.  I couldn’t remember when I’d enjoyed the invasion quite so much.  I hadn’t known I could feel this way, my mouth completely captured by his mouth, my lower body clamoring for more, more.  I tightened my hold around his bare chest and splayed my fingers on his back, instinctively trying to absorb as much of him as I could through my fingers.  I wanted all of him, his body, his soul.  He was everything I’d ever wanted in a man, kind, considerate, beautiful, and best of all, he was willing to marry me.

His towel was slipping.  Deliberately, Michael let it fall.  He wanted to feel all of Leslie with his body.  He pressed her closer until he was between her thighs.  She made a soft little sound, but he didn’t know whether it was protest or relief. 

I was violently hungry for him.  I loosened my grip on him to slide my bikini panties down to puddle at my feet, and he broke off the kiss and murmured my name.  “Leslie.”

“Michael,” I said, smiling.  “You have something to say?”  I took hold of him and positioned him so I could slide him inside me.

“Whatever it was, I have totally forgotten.  Are you sure about this?”  It killed him to say it, killed him to give her an opportunity to change her mind.

“There is one thing in favor of this.”

“What?”

“I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant.  I only have to worry about making sure you enjoy this as much as I’m going to.”  And she moved her body up to plunge him inside of her.

He expected the pings to be intolerable, but there were none.  He knew now that there would be no turning back.  He thought he just might die right here and now at the intense look on Leslie’s face as she watched him, and the insane pleasure that burned through his body as she clenched herself around him.  She lifted one leg to wrap around his hip, and when he helped her balance by clutching her buttocks in his hands, she lifted herself off the floor and was totally entwined with him. 

“Maybe we should go in the bedroom.”

“Yes,” he said.

He had a wonderful husky quality in his voice that I had never heard before.  In the bedroom, I climbed down off him and while he positioned himself on the bed, I stripped off the lacy nightgown and, watching his face, I climbed on top of him and took him into myself again.

I grasped his wrists and spread his arms out, putting every inch of his beautiful chest on display.  He smelled delicious, like sandalwood and cinnamon.  I ached to taste him.  I bent down to lick his nipple.  He groaned.  I licked again and then lifted to look into his face, even while I circled my belly, riding him.  It occurred to me then, that for a mature man, he was overly willing to let me take the lead.  I stopped moving and examined that beautiful male body spread out before me.  No.  It wasn’t possible.  And yet…

“Michael.”

He loved hearing her say his name in that breathy voice.  “Yes, Leslie?”

“It isn’t possible…oh, this embarrasses me terribly.”

“What could possibly embarrass you now?” He flashed that wondrous smile that only he could produce.

“You aren’t…no, you couldn’t possibly be.”

“Be what, Leslie?”

“Be a virgin.”

“Does it seem to you like I’m a virgin?”

“Well, yes, kind of.”

“Because I am letting you have your wicked way with me?”

“I wouldn’t exactly put it that way.”

“This was your idea, was it not?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Then continue.  When you are finished it will be my turn, yes?”

“Yes,” I said, extremely relieved that he hadn’t admitted he was a virgin.

I leaned back and placed my hands on his chest directly over his nipples.  While he lay looking up at me with those luminous eyes, I palmed those intriguing little circles of flesh, feeling them harden.  I leaned forward to lick each one greedily.

He didn’t understand how anything that felt so good could, at the same time, be nearly unbearable.  Her hair drifted around his shoulders with its flowery scent.  Her mouth created sparks of lightning within him. 

I moved my hands slowly down over those tightly ripped abs.  He was so incredibly well defined, it was as if I could feel each muscle.  I leaned down and put my mouth where my hands had been, nibbling and licking.  He moved his hips, as if I were making him uncomfortable.  “Michael, are you all right?”

In answer, he took hold of my arms and pulled me up to him to take complete possession of my mouth, his hands on my back pressing my body into his so that he felt my breasts against his chest. 

When he released me, I pushed myself up to see him better.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“What was the question?” 

I began working him, slowly rolling my belly over his, taking him with me in an erotic dance.  I loved the feel of him inside me, filling the empty space that seemed made for him. 

“I asked you if you were all right.”

“I seem to be.  Except that I have this urge to…” He rolled over with me, grasped my buttocks, and brought my hips off the bed to plunge into me as deeply as he could. 

I thought briefly of the child I carried, but I knew it was far too early to be worried about harming the baby. 

He took long, slow strokes into me and then withdrew, leaving me crying out his name.  “Michael, no, no.”

“My darling Leslie.  Be with me.  Just…be with me.”

The teasing, for I realized now that’s what it was, intensified my ravenous hunger for him.  How could I have thought he was a virgin?  Only a highly experienced man had the control for this long, careful seduction of me. 

His agonizing game of plunging repeatedly as if he were a primitive man claiming his woman and then withdrawing from me to leave me feeling nearly tortured from wanting him brought me to such a height of sexual ecstasy that when at last, he plunged into me to remain and make me his own, my orgasms began and went on and on, as if they would hold me in their grip forever. 

To Michael, he had never known what it was like to have every cell of his being reverberate with erotic pleasure.  No wonder human beings were always going about having sex.  Was there anything on earth that could compete with this sensation of utter abandonment into ecstasy?

He lay on top of her, resting, only wondering how soon his body would be able to perform this wonderful thing again.  Even while he thought this, Leslie wriggled out from under him, climbed out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Michael lay there, thinking that his whole life had changed.  He had made love with Leslie.  Yet what else could he have done?  The thought that he might actually
love
Leslie terrified him.  What did he know of love?  He knew about caring for people.  He’d come down to earth to care for Leslie.  But loving her as her husband?  That was a whole other matter.