An Angel for Emily Read online

  After that, she and Donald had never spoken of it, but it seemed to be agreed between them that she’d stay in Greenbriar and be there when he came home on weekends. “My weekend wife,” he often called her. “Just so there isn’t a Mrs. Weekday,” she’d joke. Then he’d say that Emily wore him out so bad on weekends that he needed all week to rest, and they’d laugh together.

  So now she was entering her apartment, with Donald’s just across the hall, with a man who was actually a stranger to her. Except that, sometimes, she looked at him and felt that she’d known him forever.

  Driving the car to the back of the building, she parked in the deep shadows. It would be better if no one in town realized that she’d returned. After all, she was supposed to be spending a long, romantic weekend with the man she loved. It had been long, all right, and anything but romantic—unless one counted bullets and bombs and leaping from windows as romantic.

  “Yes, this is it,” Michael said. His voice was almost reverential. “I’ve seen this place a thousand times as you’ve driven in here. Or when you walk home from the library.”

  “You’ve never been here before,” she said more sternly than she meant to, but at the moment she was feeling a bit nervous. Whatever had made her bring this man home with her? And now that she had him, what was she going to do with him?

  “It will be all right,” Michael said as he put his hand over hers, and, as always, Emily instantly felt calmer.

  Turning, she gave him a bit of a smile before getting out of the car.

  In spite of his words, she was not prepared for Michael’s reaction when he saw the apartment. He nearly pushed past her at the door, reached exactly the right place to turn on the switch for the table lamp, then started walking about, his eyes wide with wonder.

  “Yes, yes,” he said, “it’s all here. It hasn’t changed at all. There’s your desk where you write letters to your mother. Emily, I was sorry for your pain when she died, but she’s waiting for you and you’ll see her again later. Oh, and this is the table where you beat out that man at the auction. You were so happy to get it. And here are your own books. I see you sitting….”

  He turned about the room. “Where’s that long thing you lie on to read?”

  Emily’s mouth was a grim little line. “I put the chaise in Donald’s apartment. Look, I don’t like that you’ve been spying on me. I think—”

  “Spying on you? Why, Emily, that’s the farthest thing from my mind. I take care of you, and how could I do that if I don’t watch over you? Oh, this,” he said, picking up a glass paperweight. “I remember when you bought this. You were thirteen and you thought—”

  “I was twelve,” she said tightly, taking the paperweight from his hands and putting it back onto the table.

  But he seemed oblivious to her growing anger as he moved to the bedroom. For a moment, Emily stayed where she was, not sure whether to be angry or to be amazed.

  When she heard him open a drawer in her bedroom, she made her decision. With hands on hips, lips tight, she stalked to her bedroom and saw he was looking into her closet, running his hands over her clothes.

  “Get out of there,” she snapped, then shut the door so quickly she almost caught his fingers.

  Michael was unperturbed. “You should wear that red dress, Emily. It looked great on you. I was the one who got you to buy it.”

  “Do you spy on all your clients like this?” she said, then started to correct herself. “Not that you have clients but—” It was difficult to be furious when you had to add so many qualifiers to every statement.

  Abruptly, he stopped moving and looked down at her bed. For a moment he touched her white quilt that she’d bought years ago at a tiny country store high in the mountains. “Emily, I feel odd. I feel very strange. I feel….”

  When he turned to look at her, there was no mistaking the heat in his eyes.

  Instinctively, she backed away from him. “Look, I think you’d better leave. Or I’ll leave. Or—”

  Turning away, he hid his eyes from her. “So that’s what it’s like,” he said softly. “I understand you mortals a bit better now.”

  There was no mistaking what he was referring to. “I don’t think you should stay here.”

  His head came up and his eyes burned intensely. “Emily, you’ll never have to be afraid of me. I promise.”

  As quickly as his expression had become hot, it changed back to cool and he smiled. “Now, let’s get some rest. These bodies of yours are weak. They constantly need refueling and resting.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked, her voice betraying her nervousness.

  “Not where I’d like to,” he said, and his grin was so cocky she laughed and the laugh made her relax.

  “Stop flirting with me. I’ll pull out the sofa in the living room and you can sleep there. And tomorrow morning we’ll go see the house. And after that, you can leave.”

  “Of course, Emily, I’ll leave whenever you want me to. I never want to impose on you.”

  “Stop it,” she half shouted. “So help me, if you don’t stop this saintly act of yours, I’ll—”

  “I’m no saint, Emily,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I’m an—” He broke off, then grinned. “I’m a very sleepy man. Now don’t you mortals do something to the couch before sleeping on it?”

  As Emily went to get the sheets, again she asked herself what she was doing.

  She woke to a hand on her hair, and instinctively she snuggled up to it. She had barely opened her eyes when she saw a handsome, dark-haired man with enormous wings framing his body. “Michael,” she whispered, then smiled as she felt a kiss beside her lips. “Are all angels named Michael?” she murmured sleepily.

  “Just the best of us.”

  It took her a moment to awake, but suddenly she sat up and bumped her head into his as he sat back on the bed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at him.

  “I came in to wake you up and you were lying there and you looked so very beautiful and—” His eyes were wide. “Emily, I think I’ve just given in to temptation.”

  He looked so shocked that she couldn’t keep from laughing. It was too early in the morning to be angry. “Wasn’t there another angel who did that? And didn’t he get thrown out of you-know-where?”

  “Emily, this is no laughing matter. I’m not supposed to give into temptation. I…I could get into trouble.”

  In spite of herself, Emily was pleased at the look of horror on his face and his words. What woman hadn’t dreamed of being so sexy she tempted a good-looking man into sin? “Oh well,” she said, then sat up and stretched, knowing her nightgown pulled against her breasts when she did.

  Michael raised one eyebrow. “I think an evil demon followed you home and right now he has taken possession of your soul. Aren’t you a married woman?”

  “Engaged,” she said quickly. “That’s all.” Then when she saw that he’d tricked her into nearly renouncing Donald, she threw a pillow at him. “Get out of here! I have to take a shower and get dressed.”

  His face was serious. “There’s no need to throw me out as I’ve certainly seen you take a shower before. My favorite part is when you rub lotion up and down your legs, and what is that pink thing you smooth across your round little—”

  “Out! Get out of here! Now, before I turn you in to the police for being a peeping tom.”

  Michael stopped by the door. “He was one of mine too. Why don’t I tell you about him while you shower?” He had just managed to pull the door closed when another pillow came flying at him. She could hear him laughing as he headed toward the kitchen.

  It was while she was in the shower that she began to ask herself what, exactly, she was going to do with this man. As she looked back over the last days, it seemed that she had tried to get rid of him. Or had she? But every time she tried to get away, something—some force—held her back.

  I should call Donald and ask him what to do, she thought, but she could ea