The Angel's Fire (Masters of Maria Book 8) by Holley Trent

Author:Holley Trent [Trent, Holley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal, paranormal romance, historical paranormal romance, angels, angels and demons, gods and goddesses, Mexico
Published: 2020-07-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lola didn’t know. Tarik could tell by her lack of eye contact and inability to stand still.

He’d never known her to be fidgety, and yet there she was shifting her weight and burning hot as a fire poker.

It wouldn’t do to tease her. She’d shut down and she might not let him get close again. He couldn’t risk that—not when he was so keen on disproving that it was impossible for creatures like him to be to be true and to be kept.

And why wouldn’t he want to be those things? The two of them made sense together. They were equals in all the ways that mattered, and he’d never felt that way about any lover before. None of the others he’d cared for had been built to last, anyway, and if they didn’t last, what was the point?

“Come.” He walked backward to the chaise, pulling her along, pondering how to direct the scene.

“You must think me silly,” she murmured. “Running a place that trades in flesh and yet being so ignorant about what I want.”

“I hadn’t thought that. I imagine that it’s all so basic to you now, hmm?”

She grimaced and withdrew from him.

He sat.

She paced, spinning her rings as she walked. Her skirts swished. Boot heels echoed against the bare wood.

Slowly, he removed his coat, being careful to lift the slitted back over his wings.

“Basic?” she said with a laugh. “No. I suppose I might think that if I were active in that part of the business.”

“Are you not?”

She stopped pacing and stared at him dead-on. “No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Most of the girls do not know. I am always able to redirect any man who solicits me. They move on to someone else. There are plenty of rumors circulating about men who have supposedly been in my bed and the stunning feats I have performed. I do nothing to discourage them.” She shrugged and draped his discarded coat over her forearm. “It is good for business. You may be shocked to learn that I have consented to the act one time in my entire existence and have not felt the urge to do it again.”

Shocked was perhaps stating his opinion too mildly.

He didn’t believe it. A woman with her primal allure wasn’t one whom he would expect to seek a cold bed when she wanted a bed at all. The energy that thrummed through her was the kind that creatures like them felt compelled to share and swap, for there was no more gratifying thing to do with it.

“You do not believe me,” she said. “I care not. There is a reason I choose not to speak so much of my past and my choices, and it is because no matter what I do or say, I will not be believed. It is so typical that—”

He reached for her and caught the side of her skirt. He fisted it, heedless of the wrinkling, and slowly wrapped yards of fabric around his hand. “Hush,” he said as he reeled her in.

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