Angel Unbound Page 2

  “They’re not called trollops anymore, Calli,” he offered in a tone a bit shorter than intended. “And no, she wasn’t. Women are allowed to enjoy sex these days. It doesn’t make them whores.”

  He couldn’t miss the flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. He recognized her discomfiture immediately. Well, she’d asked, hadn’t she?

  Merda, he’d done it again.

  “I’m a thoughtless bastard, cara,” he sighed wearily. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. You really have to be more careful. Times have changed. The Fallen think nothing of coming after us right in our own homes now.”

  He shouldn’t have bitten her head off. Yeah, he felt out of sorts, but it was nothing compared to what she must be going through. Insecure wasn’t a word Luca would have ever associated with Callista McAllister in the past. Though stubborn and spoiled, her fierce independence and self-assurance had always appealed to him, when she wasn’t busy frustrating and infuriating him. In the days immediately after her rescue, she’d seemed like her usual opinionated, outspoken self. In fact, she’d even gone so far as to tell him he’d taken long enough to find her. But in the days and weeks that followed, she became increasingly aware of how much the world had changed. She’d become more unsure, more withdrawn. She barely ate, hardly slept.

  Earthbound typically lived for centuries and adapted to the changes in order to remain hidden in mortal society. Adapting to change while living through it was one thing, but Calli had been trapped in time while the world around her moved on. Except for books, she’d had very little exposure to the outside world. Luca thought she was doing pretty well, all things considered.

  But she shielded her thoughts from him, making it impossible to guess what might be going on in her mind. Most days she drifted through the villa like a lost soul, a shadow of her former self.

  He realized this was actually the first time they’d been completely alone together since her return. He heard her mother moving around upstairs. They wouldn’t be alone for long. It was just as well. Sometimes it was best to leave the dead buried.

  “No, I’m sorry. How you choose to spend your time is really none of my business,” she whispered, crumbling the flaky cornetto between her fingers in lieu of eating it. “I think the lack of sleep must be making me shrewish.”

  Luca reached out and impatiently brushed the sad remnants of the pastry aside. He plucked another from the box, this one chocolate filled, and waved it enticingly under Calli’s nose.

  “Open.”

  “I’m not really very hungry, I—”

  Luca shoved the cornetto in her mouth before she could get another word out.

  “What’s making you shrewish is spending every hour of every day cooped up in this house. Rome is a vibrant, exciting city. You’ve barely ventured any further than the garden,” Magdalena McAllister interjected as she breezed into the kitchen. “Now chew that up and go get dressed. Luca is taking you out,” she announced.

  “I dom hab amyring oo air,” Callista mumbled through the mouthful of flaky dough and gooey chocolate, her eyes darting to Luca. A pulse jumped in her throat and beat at a rapidly increasing pace that was clearly visible.

  “You have an entire closet filled with clothes that Kat and Elle picked out for you,” her mother argued. “Not that anyone’s seen them. Now, go and put something on. Luca, go wash up. My hermit daughter will meet you right back here in thirty minutes.”

  Calli’s eyes were as big as saucers.

  “I…I can’t, Mother. I’m not ready.”

  Luca saw the stark terror in her eyes and wondered if his looked similarly alarmed. He couldn’t think of anything he’d like less than spending the day one on one in Callista’s company. He narrowed his eyes at Madge.

  “She can’t go out alone, Luca. With Alec in Paris, and Kassian on his honeymoon, you’re the only one I can count on to keep her safe. If she can’t tolerate it, by all means bring her back, but even a walk to the corner would be an improvement. Think of your father. You of all people can understand the consequences of hiding from the world.”

  She sent the thought into his mind using a telepathic channel specific to the two of them rather than the common one all Earthbound used so Calli wouldn’t hear.

  Magdalena McAllister was no one’s fool. Everyone else walked on eggshells around Calli, afraid of pushing too hard, afraid of upsetting her. Luca had years of experience walking on eggshells. In the end, it hadn’t done any good. It hadn’t saved his father. Nicola’s grief and seclusion had been more important to him than his own son.

  But Magdalena had been there to pick up the pieces when Luca felt completely abandoned. He owed her. Yes, Madge understood him well. And she wasn’t above using his feelings of guilt over his father to get her way. Luca wasn’t thrilled about it, but if he had to be the one to play the bastard and force Callista McAllister out of her comfort zone to make her mother feel better, so be it. Even if it took him out of his.

  “You’re a scheming witch, Madge.”

  “But you love me.”

  Madge smiled and patted Luca’s cheek as she passed by him to pour herself a cup of coffee.

  He sighed inwardly, admitting defeat. Magdalena had been like a second mother to Luca for as long as he could remember. There weren’t many things he would refuse her. It wasn’t how he’d planned to spend the day, but he’d survive. He’d survived worse. Judging by the sick look on Calli’s face, they’d be back in no time, anyway.

  “Maybe you’re right, cara…expecting you to be ready to leave the house in thirty minutes really is asking a lot, I guess,” he goaded.

  She nodded vigorously, still working to swallow the mouthful of pastry, a look of relief settling on her face.

  “Make it forty-five.”

  ****

  An hour later, Luca cooled his heels in the kitchen after a quick shower. The ends of his hair were still damp and stuck to his neck, dripping onto his shirt. Deciding against his customary cashmere, he’d dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a simple black tee. Dropping into a chair, he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest. His lightweight leather jacket was neatly folded and waiting on the back of his chair.

  Still no sign of Calli. His relaxed pose was at odds with his growing irritation. He simply wanted this over. The sooner they started, the sooner they could come back. He shoved his chair back and headed for the stairs.

  Chapter Two

  Callista was no closer to being ready than when she’d come upstairs over an hour ago. Everything Kat and Elle had purchased for her seemed so…well, indecent. Her breasts, which she’d always thought a bit too large for her small frame, seemed larger still when pushed up in the most brazen manner by the lacy black bra. The matching panties clung like a second skin and covered next to nothing. In fact, it seemed as though most everything she now owned covered next to nothing. Even the soft leather boots hugged her legs and showed the curves of her calves all the way to her knees, and it took a good deal of concentration to keep her balance on the high, thin heels.

  If Katrina could be believed, and Calli couldn’t imagine she had any reason to lie, the clothing chosen for Callista was relatively conservative. But in her opinion, everything she tried on seemed designed to emphasize everything she wanted to hide.

  The contents of the now empty closet lay discarded around her on the floor. She stood in the middle of the pile, hands on hips, fighting back tears. Looking around at the jumbled heap of clothes, she wondered where to start. The mess around her felt as overwhelming as her life. She’d barely registered the rap on her bedroom door when it flew open and Luca’s muscular frame filled the doorway. Long and lean, he exuded arbitrary elegance whether in silk and cashmere or denim and leather.

  Denim was the flavor of the day, and it clung to his muscular thighs and high, tight butt in a way that left little to the imagination. He was six and a half feet of broad shoulders and hard muscle. He’d even taken the time to shave, leaving his c
hiseled jaw sharp and smooth and accentuating the cleft in his chin. She had to stifle the urge to catch her breath every time she saw him. But this time, her gasp was audible. He stood staring and she was just shy of naked.

  Luca simply gaped, dumbstruck at the unexpected sight of Callista standing in a rumpled pile of discarded clothing, wearing some barely there black lingerie, and a pair of kick ass sexy boots.

  Desire slammed into his gut like a physical blow. Something stirred. Something he’d buried deep as death, and something he would just as soon leave undisturbed.

  Without a doubt, she was trying to kill him. She was thinner than he remembered, but no less painfully beautiful. High, full breasts, trim narrow waist, and to his surprise, even though she was a petite woman, she had exquisitely long legs.

  She’d unbraided her hair, and it fell past her hips like dark, curling ribbons of silk. He found it impossible to look away, even more impossible to breathe. And then he felt suddenly, unreasonably angry at the clear and immediate response of his own treacherous body.

  She stood there staring at him with wide, shocked eyes looking like a frightened virgin being led to slaughter. And that, of course, was impossible. He harbored no illusions.

  The Fallen were depraved by nature, setting themselves up as demi-gods who answered to no one, and Rapier had been among the worst. Luca realized that on some level, he still harbored an incredible anger with her for having put herself in the situation that led to her capture and everything that had surely followed.

  While Mac had spent over a hundred years blaming himself for Callista’s abduction, Luca had spent almost as much time blaming her. He had no choice. Otherwise, he would have had to acknowledge his own guilt. He didn’t stop to consider the rationality, he only knew when he believed her dead something inside him died too, and he’d feared if he examined it too closely, it would eat him alive.

  When she tore her gaze from his and made a move to cover herself, his thin veneer of control nearly snapped.

  “Don’t bother, cara,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He moved forward into the room and blindly pulled a pair of jeans and a sweater from the pile at her feet. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” He dropped the clothes into her arms. “Now put these on and let’s go.”

  He spun on his heel and made it as far as the door before he hesitated. He turned back to where Calli stood stock still, clutching the clothes to her chest. Beautiful, disoriented Calli, who struggled every day to fit in while watching him with quiet, troubled eyes that seemed to censure his every move. Every time she looked at him, she told him without words he wasn’t the man she remembered.

  Hell, he barely remembered who he was back then. How could he live up to whatever expectations she harbored behind her sad, disapproving gaze? Well, at least he hadn’t made her cry this time. Her big blue eyes were pained, but they were dry.

  Maybe things were looking up.

  “You can’t hide in the house forever, Cal,” he said in a kinder tone. “The best way to learn how to live in this world is to get out there and see what it’s like. It doesn’t matter what you wear. These days pretty much anything goes.”

  She offered no response.

  “When did you become such a coward?”

  Callista’s eyes flashed with anger and more life than he’d seen in them in weeks. She opened her mouth then snapped it closed without a retort as color flooded her cheeks. The sound of a throat clearing behind him alerted him to the fact they were no longer alone.

  He threw a look over his shoulder, feeling like the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Madge McAllister stood in the doorway, manicured brows raised and arms crossed tightly over her silk robe and ample bosom.

  “Is there a problem?” She looked past Luca and her eyes widened imperceptibly at Calli’s state of undress. She glanced at the straining front of Luca’s jeans and then raised her eyes to his.

  His usual icy veneer was replaced by a hot flush creeping into his face.

  She bit back a smile at his uncharacteristic disconcertment. “Well?”

  “Uh, no…” Luca stammered. “Calli was having some trouble deciding what to wear.” He heard the rasp of denim on leather and knew that behind his back Calli quickly pulled on the clothes he’d shoved at her.

  “I see.” She glanced around Luca once again. “Well, it looks like she’s ready now. You two run along. I’ll put the rest of these things away.”

  “Oh, but Mother, you don’t have to…” Callista began.

  “Nonsense. Get going. The city is beautiful at this time of day. Why don’t you head over to the market at Campo dei Fiori and pick up some nice artichokes for dinner?”

  She brushed past Luca and began to gather up the pile on the floor. She pulled a soft ivory cardigan from the heap and handed it to Callista. “Better take this. It’s still a little chilly.”

  Callista stared at her mother, nonplussed. The woman wasn’t the least bit disturbed that not only had Luca been in Callista’s bedroom, but she’d been barely dressed at the time.

  In the world Callista remembered, that alone would have resulted in a marriage proposal, certain disgrace, or both. Then again, it was a new world and as he said, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. In fact, if the gossip could be believed, he saw far more, and on a regular basis, too. Her appearance probably hadn’t affected him at all. He would never see her as anything more than Kassian’s little sister.

  Her jaw was clenched so tightly she felt a headache coming on. She shook her head to clear it. There was so much to learn she feared she could never take it all in. She backed away from her mother to where Luca stood outside the door waiting.

  “Well, I guess we’ll be going, then,” she offered in a shaky voice.

  Her stomach churned at the thought of going out into the crowded streets, and her legs felt like rubber, making the boot heels feel even more unstable.

  What if she did something foolish? What if she caused a scene?

  Of course, Luca would be there, but that made it worse. If she made a fool of herself in front of him, he’d never let her live it down. Besides, Luca and Kassian had both been there over a hundred years ago, and it hadn’t stopped her from getting into trouble. The minute their backs were turned, she’d allowed her heart to override her common sense and walked into a nightmare. But she would do it again. She’d had no choice.

  “Please, Mother, I don’t think I’m ready yet.” She sent the plea to her mother mentally, not wanting to give Luca the satisfaction of knowing she was still afraid. But, her mother kept her back to her and pretended not to hear.

  “Have a nice time, dear.”

  Have a nice time, dear? Surely she must be joking! Calli feared she might be embarrassingly sick at any moment and her lungs felt suddenly too small to take in enough air. Hands trembling, eyes wide, she handed Luca the sweater and pulled the heavy mass of her hair over one shoulder and quickly plaited it into her customary thick braid. When she finished, Luca held out the sweater and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. She stood passively as he buttoned it up as though she were a child.

  Luca didn’t need to be an empath like his sister, Kat to read the set of Madge’s shoulders, or the faint tremor in her hands as she carefully folded the scattered clothes. Another few minutes and she would give in to Calli’s pleas to remain in the house. She put on a brave front, but she was terrified for her daughter. He had to do whatever he could to alleviate her fears.

  As soon as he finished with the buttons, he grasped Callista’s hands in his own and faded. Surprised by the move, she stumbled against him as they materialized in the kitchen. He caught her shoulders to steady her, ignoring the way his muscles tightened at the unexpected contact, and stepped away.

  “Ready?”

  “I…” she began hesitantly. She kept her thoughts shielded, but Luca could almost see her mind working as she struggled to come up with yet another excuse.

  “C’mon, cara, i
t’s not the end of the world. There’s no secret potion for this. No magic wand, no fairy dust. You just have to put one foot in front of the other. Once you take the first step, every one after will be easier. If it’s too much, I’ll bring you back. Don’t be such a chicken-shit.”

  “A what?” Her brows drew together in puzzlement.

  “Chicken-shit…’fraidy cat…coward.”

  Her brows lowered ominously and her lips tightened. Luca grinned inwardly while maintaining a look of calm disinterest. It worked every time. Raised with two older brothers during a period in history when women were considered decorative second class citizens, challenging her ability to do something was the surest way to ensure she’d at least make the attempt.

  “Why are you doing this? You’ve made it plain you have no desire to be in my company any more than necessary, yet you’ve agreed to drag me around with you all day. Why?”

  Surprised by the question, Luca hoped his façade hid his discomfort. He didn’t realize he’d made it so obvious he was avoiding her. Instead of answering, he shrugged and propelled her out the door with a hand on the small of her back. He imagined he could feel the heat of her skin even through the layers of fabric and his jaw clenched.

  He was a warrior. He was hundreds of years old. He’d fought, he’d killed, and he’d survived things most people couldn’t dream of. So why did he feel like a horny teenager on his first date with the prom queen? Luca Fiorelli didn’t do relationships. This was sexual attraction, pure and simple. If it was anyone else, Luca would simply take her to his bed and get it out of his system. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Callista McAllister and a couple nights of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am weren’t an option.

  Damn, Mac and his brother Alec were so going to owe him for this! Of course, he couldn’t tell them that, it would only lead to questions he wasn’t sure he could answer.