Falling for Grace (Four Winds) (16 page)

She went limp with shock, and as she sank deeper in his clasp, she marveled at the similarities to her dream.  She was sinking into water that was surprisingly clear,
she could see several yards in every direction.  It stung her eyes to look around, but she was unable to close them.  Grace had to see where he was taking her.

Down.

She had filled her lungs with air reflexively before going under, and as they tightened, a sense of peace filled her.  Looking at Damien, she saw him release her tube, tighten his grip on her hand, and continue swimming downward. 

Into the depths.

Absently, Grace wondered what was down here.  She'd never actually swum this deep before and wondered where he was taking her.  She should have been panicking.  Damien was dragging her under the water, and it was so deep here.  It shouldn't have been this deep.  He hadn't been that far out.  But like her dreams, he just kept pulling her down deeper and deeper.  The tightness in her lungs lessened, and Grace's subconscious took that as a sign that this was okay.  She needed to go with him.  She started kicking her legs to help him, so he wasn't totally dragging her down.

A hand grasped her other hand, pulling upward.

Grace looked and saw Rafe, floating above her, a desperate look in his eyes.  She stopped kicking, and clarity came to her, along with a pain in her chest.  Her lungs were filled with stale air again, and she had to get air or she would die.  In a heartbeat, she realized the danger she'd put herself in.  Unsure of whether this was a dream or not, she stopped swimming and floated, helpless between the two men.

Rafe pulled on one hand, while Damien pulled on the other.  He must have sensed something, because he stopped swimming down and looked back.  When he saw Rafe hovering above Grace, he let out a growl, releasing a cascade of bubbles from his mouth under the water.

Grace felt the danger emanating from him, as she kicked at him to try to get him to release her to Rafe, who continued pulling up.

Her shoulders hurt with these two men struggling with her, and she wondered briefly what the hell was going on.  Why was Damien trying to drown her?  Why was he not drowning?  She kicked at him again, and Rafe joined in, his long legs outmaneuvering hers.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, clutching her tightly, as his powerful legs kicked at Damien's face.  Grace could feel the energy pouring from Rafe's arms, frantic energy, distress and fear trembled in his muscles, as he gripped her in the crook of his arm, while fighting Damien with his feet.  Bubbles escaped his mouth as he struggled.  Grace tried to fight too, but the air in her lungs was gone and she could feel her muscles burning with the lack of oxygen. 

As soon as Grace realized that she was drowning, Damien released her.  A wicked smile played across his face, as blackness overtook her vision.  Unconsciously, she inhaled, lungs desperate for air, and they filled with water.  Burning, stinging, salty water.  And then, nothing.

Her next thought was, "He's finally kissing me again."  Rafe's mouth covered hers, and he was breathing precious air into her lungs.  Grace retched, vomiting up salt water that burned a path up her chest, as Rafe turned her over to empty her lungs, murmuring words of encouragement into her ears.  Sand stuck to her back and side, where he had dragged her before performing CPR.  A crowd of people surrounded them.

"Thank God, Grace.  I thought I'd lost you."  She looked up at Rafe, and his beautiful green eyes were spilling over with tears.  She blinked at him, before he pulled her into his arms.

His touch made her feel better immediately.  He held her in his lap, as she coughed and sputtered, wiping her face with a towel somebody had given him.  She wasn't aware of anything besides his warm touch on her cold body.  They were both wet, and covered in sand, but at this moment, there was no other place she'd rather be.

"Grace, what happened to you?"  Mark's voice broke through her Rafe haze, and she looked up into her boss's concerned eyes.

What to say?  That Damien had tried to drag her under and lost a tug-of-war with Rafe?

Apparently, her silence spoke for itself.

"That's it.  You are on a paid LOA for an indeterminate period of time, mandatory counseling.  Go home.  Get some rest.  Come back tomorrow, and we'll talk about it."  Grace hoped his gruffness was a cover for empathy.  That he wasn't mad at her.  Oh well, she'd find out tomorrow.

Rafe scooped her up in his arms, and walked up to the Sea Wall with her.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I'm not sure, yet.  But we need to talk.  Are you okay?"

Remarkably, she felt fine, as if she hadn't just almost drowned.  "Yeah.  I'm fine.  I can walk."

"I like carrying you."

She liked it, too. 

Chapter
Seventeen

"Your leg's better."

He looked down at his leg, knowing that this was the time.  He would have to tell her.  Now that the Deceiver had made his play, she needed to know everything.  "Yeah, I'm a pretty fast healer.  Always have been."  He noted the irony of the words, even as he spoke them.

Rafe had carried her to
Old City Cemetery, on Broadway, and they sat under the shade of a tree near an old mausoleum that dated from the 1890's.  He felt like the peacefulness of the setting might help her understand.  He hoped so, anyway.  Her next question derailed his train of thought.

"I want to know more about Rafe as a kid.  What are your parents like?  How many brothers and sisters do you have?"  Her face looked eager, and he knew he was going to disappoint her.  She didn't want to hear the truth.  Uri had told him so.

"I'll tell you about myself, if you promise to keep an open mind," he said gently.

She nodded in acquiescence, so he continued.

"My brother Uri told me to tell you this with patience in mind.  Women don't trust men, and nobody has the faith that they used to."  Her eyes clouded briefly, and he wondered what that meant.  He couldn't dwell on it, though.  He had to continue on.  "Do you believe in God?"

She shrugged, "Sure.  I'm Christian."

"Not quite the same thing, but I'll take it, for now."  He stroked her hair, and she laid her head in his lap.  He took that as a sign of trust and moved on.  "My brothers are Uriel, Michael, Gabriel, Chamiel, Jophiel, and Raguel.  We had another, but he was…disowned."

Her eyebrows furrowed.  "Those are some weird names, Rafe."

"It's short for Rafael, remember?"  He paused, gauging her reaction, unsure of how to continue.  He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but he wouldn't know how she'd react until he just said it.  Taking a deep breath first, Rafe blurted, "We're archangels.  Not born, never children, no emotion.  Just emissaries of God, doing his will."

Grace sat up and stared at him, mouth agape.  "What?"

Might as well get it all out there.  "I'm falling for you, Grace."

"What?"  She looked like she couldn't comprehend, so he gave her some time to digest the information.

"What did you say?"  She repeated herself, enunciating the words.

"I'm an archangel.  Raphael, the healer.  I've been with you on your saves, Grace."

Grace stood and paced back and forth, muttering under her breath.  He couldn't quite catch what she was saying.

It was his turn.  "What?"

"I said, this is a great big mind fuck, Rafe.  There is no way you expect me to believe this!"

"Think about it, Grace.  My color is green.  Haven't you noticed something different, since Alex?  He's what brought me to you.  I can tell you about your dreams, I can get in your head.  I can…"

"Stay out of my head!"

Rafe was desperate to make her understand.  He stood, and followed her back and forth in her pacing.  "I love you, Grace."

"You're a crazy person.  You just said archangels can't feel emotion.  But you're an archangel, and you love me?  You aren't making sense."  Tears began streaming down her face, and she wiped them off her face with the back of her hands.

He reached for her, clutching her shoulders.  "God told us we could…fall."  He looked into her eyes, seeing fear and hating himself for it.  "If we fell in love, we'd become human.  I wish I could prove it to you."  Roughly, without thinking, he pulled her to him and felt her gasp against his chest.  "Today, I thought I'd lost you to the Deceiver.  He was taking you for himself, and I would have lost you forever.  You have no idea how desperate I was to get you back from him."

Her face turned up to look at him, and he could see her thinking.  Then her face carefully went blank as she said, "You sound like you need help."  The tears still streamed down her face.

"If I'm crazy, why are you crying?"

"Because I
like
you, Rafe.  I like you, and you're crazy, so I can't like you."  She broke down into heavy sobs.  "Because I couldn't stop thinking about you when you left, and I broke up with Brad, and I was excited because that meant I could see if we could start something, but now I can't see anything, because you're mind-fucking me!"

She started to leave, but in a last-ditch effort to distract her, Rafe hauled her against him and kissed her.

To his immense delight, her body melted against his, and she kissed him back.  The strange stirring in his groin that Uri had explained made sense now.  He wanted Grace.  All of her.  He wanted her love, her life, her body, her all.  He tried to impart that desire through his kiss, his tongue tasting hers, probing her mouth.  His hands pulled her against him, so she could feel the evidence of his desire, his hands touching her waist, her back.

She groaned against his mouth, and Rafe lost the battle to show her, all he could do was take her.  He lifted her body against his and walked over to the concrete mausoleum, leaning her against it, as his hands wrapped her legs around him, continuing to kiss her senseless.  The noises she was making were almost too much.

Into her mouth, he said, "I'm not crazy."  He kissed her neck, open-mouth, tasting kisses.  She tasted like the sun that she bathed herself in everyday.  Grace threw her head back with abandon, arching towards him, gripping him with her legs. His mouth continued its travels, across her shoulder, with the whimpers she expelled with each sweet ragged breath she took.

Suddenly, her legs went limp, and she tried to push away from him.

"Rafe.  Stop."  Abruptly, he stopped kissing her, but he didn't let her go.  He couldn't.  "We can't do this."

God, he wanted to keep kissing her, to prove to her how much he loved her, that he wasn't crazy.  His control was stretched to his limits.  But, instead of kissing her, he just looked.  Her blue eyes were wide and filled with shimmering tears.  "I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"Because, even if you weren't crazy, you're too…"  Her eyes darted around, searching for the words.  "Not casual."

He barked a laugh, despite the seriousness of the situation.  "No, I'm anything but casual when it comes to you.  Can't you see it?"

She pushed him farther away.  "Yes, Rafe.  I can.  That's exactly why I can't do this."  And then she ran.

Chapter Eighteen

The next day she met Mark at headquarters and, at his urging, sat in the chair across from his desk.