Not Quite an Angel (19 page)

Not even close. Women still came on to him, the way they always had, but he'd grown adroit at letting them know he wasn't interested. Now why that should be a challenge to some women, he really had no idea, but it often seemed to work that way. He grinned ruefully and shook his head as he took another slug of beer, thinking of the one particular situation which was getting more and more difficult for him to sidestep.

Bonnie French was one of Hollywood's new crop of stars, a sensual and intelligent woman, aggressive as hell about her career and, Adam was finding out, aggressive as hell about the men she chose to sleep with. He'd met her through Samaritans. Bonnie had adopted the foundation as her pet charity, which made for wonderful publicity for her and benefited the street kids. Unfortunately she seemed to have
decided Adam should show his gratitude for the money she raised by ministering to her in bed.

Up to now, he'd neatly deflected Bonnie's advances without insulting her—God knew the foundation needed the visibility she provided—but it was getting tougher all the time for him to gracefully slide out of her grasp. The woman was like an octopus or, as Bernie said, maybe more like a barracuda. He glanced at his watch. She was going to be at tonight's benefit. He'd have to make sure she didn't get him alone.

He was finishing the last bite of sandwich when the phone rang. It was Bernie. “Everything in place for tonight, Hawk?”

“I called Janice and she's got everything under control.” Janice was now a full partner in Blue Knights. She was a good investigator—hell, she was better than good, she was exceptional. She kept Bernie and Adam on their toes. The only investigation she hadn't gotten to first base with was the disappearance of Tyrone Wallace and Violet Temple, but neither had Adam and Bernie. Those two had disappeared without a trace.

“Fran blew the bank account on a new dress for this one, Hawk. Her mother's gonna baby-sit.”

“Tell the kids hi from me.”

“Will do. See ya about six.”

 

S
AMEH RUBBED HER HIP
as she headed for the pay phone.

Before she'd left this time, she'd put the four quarters she'd taken back with her two years before inside her sandal to use for calls when she got here. She leaned against the side of the phone booth, hopping a little as she retrieved them.

She'd probably have a gigantic bruise on her bottom for weeks, the way the techies had landed her this time. For a
newly qualified but clumsy Adept, landing in a heap on the sidewalk outside Giorgio's on Rodeo Drive was demoralizing.

Her simple tunic wasn't exactly haute couture, and the elegant woman she'd knocked into had screamed and made a terrible fuss, even though Sameh had apologized profusely as soon as she'd come out of delta and realized what had happened.

Passersby gave them both a wide berth for the hectic few moments it took to untangle herself and get to her feet. The woman hadn't even said thank-you when Sameh teleported all her parcels back into the elegant shopping bag she carried. “Disgusting,” she'd hissed, instead. “Drunk in broad daylight, here of all places. Where are the police when you need them?”

You'd think the techies would get better at landings. Maybe by the time Delilah arrived next year, they'd have learned to do a better job.

Sameh dropped the quarter twice before she finally managed to reach Fran and Bernie's number and her heart did a mad, skipping dance when Bernie answered. “It's Sameh” was all she had to say. She gave them her exact location, and within a few ecstatic moments, her friends were on their way to pick her up.

She plopped down on a bench at a bus stop to wait, and she thought about Adam and wondered for the zillionth time what his reaction would be when he found out she was back here in the nineties. She'd spent untold hours before the trip trying to figure out if she should call Adam first when she got here, but shyness and insecurity had stopped her.

She knew he wasn't married to someone else, she knew he still thought of her, she knew—oh, she knew all sorts of delightful and secret things about Adam. Kendra and Gamma had insisted on checking him out, a rather thorough
and invasive mind, body and reincarnational check that was probably as illegal here in the nineties as it was in 2502.

The thought of Kendra and how far away she was brought a lump of homesickness to Sameh's throat and tears to her eyes. It had been harder than she'd imagined it would be, leaving her great-grandmother, even though Kendra had promised she'd come for a visit when—Sameh's face flushed. When Sameh got pregnant with her first daughter, Kendra would come. Sameh's obligatory sterility had been reversed a few days before in a landmark decision by the Fertility Commission, even though they hadn't interrogated Adam beforehand as they always did with prospective fathers.

Kendra and Gamma had produced all the data they'd collected on Adam, and the commission had accepted it in lieu of a personal interview. Sameh's case had been the first of its kind, and the romantic aspects had won over even the phlegmatic hearts of the twenty-four female commission members.

She was the first Adept to ever apply for and receive permission to emigrate to the past on a permanent basis. The official reason, of course, was that she was coming back to continue her work with Delilah, to help that lady accelerate the spread of information and awareness in order to facilitate the progress toward the New Age. The Fertility Commission suspected, though, that the main reason she was returning was because she'd fallen in love with an old-fashioned man, and they were right.

Of course, Sameh also planned to teach anyone who wanted to learn all the disciplines she herself had now mastered, like telekinesis, hypnosis and teleportation. And, most important of all, healing. It was the discipline she was most proud of attaining, the one that had been the hardest for her to master, and was now the dearest to her heart. With
Gamma's help, she'd spent the past months researching cerebral palsy, and Kendra had helped her learn the exact techniques she'd use to heal Corey.

She couldn't wait.

“Sameh, Sameh, is it really you?” The sound of Fran's jubilant voice brought Sameh to her feet. Bernie had parked illegally in the bus zone, and he and Fran were breathlessly racing toward her. A moment later, engulfed in their arms, their happy tears mingling with her own, Sameh felt all traces of her homesickness disappeared.

She'd come home.

All she needed to make her happiness complete was the man she loved.

 

H
E WAS BACKED FLAT
against the green concrete wall of a dressing room backstage. Bonnie's lavish breasts were all but erupting from the top of her silvery dress, and they were pressed so tightly against his chest he could feel her nipples right through the fabric of his tux.

“You're sooo strong, Adam. So sexy.” Bonnie French was doing her best to undress him. Her nimble fingers kept tugging at his zipper.

“We'd better get back out front. Aren't you introducing one of the entertainers, that country singer—” Adam's breath caught sharply as her other hand cupped him. He groaned, which encouraged her. He finally managed to grab both of her wrists in his hands and he held on for dear life.

Where the hell was his own security company when he needed it? Janice had assured him that every inch of this place was covered by Blue Knights, so where was the muscle—his well-paid muscle, at that—who were supposed to be working backstage?

Bonnie writhed against him. “There's lots of time, baby.” Her voice was husky, her skin flushed. “I'm a quick
study. There's a couch right over there—wouldn't we be more comfortable lying down?” She stood on tiptoe and pressed her full lips to his, pushing her tongue between his teeth, demonstrating graphically what she wanted from him.

He could taste lip gloss and booze. He tried to break off the kiss without insulting her, but there was a narrow line there, one he wasn't sure how to negotiate with her tongue stuck halfway down his throat.

Damn. If she kept this up much longer, he was going to have to tell the lady where to go, and then Samaritan would be looking for another sponsor. On the other hand, months of abstinence were taking their toll, and in spite of himself he could feel his body beginning to respond to the bundle of eager, perfumed, writhing femininity now tugging her skirt up and undulating her shapely hips against his crotch.

He closed his eyes and tried to think of Sameh.

 

B
ERNIE AND
F
RANCES WERE
on their way to the benefit when they picked Sameh up at the bus stop. Because of their detour to collect her, they all arrived after the event had already begun.

Bernie had somehow wangled her a seat at the back, and Sameh sat in the darkened theater, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched and listened as Adam accepted a check and then made a short speech about street kids, a plea so heartfelt and powerful she could see the auras of those around her vibrating in empathy.

She was overwhelmed by the way he looked in his tuxedo. The stark contrast of formal black and white played up his tanned skin, the ruggedness of his features. Most of all, she was aware of the total honesty he projected. Adam had learned to speak and feel from the center of his soul, and she rejoiced.

Love and pride and eagerness to be with him burst inside
her like the sudden blooming of a flower. She got up to follow him when the clapping faded and he disappeared backstage. It took her a while to convince the burly guard in the outer hallway to let her follow him up the stairs.

The maze of corridors and dressing rooms up there was confusing, and Sameh had to stop and concentrate now and then, in order to visualize Adam and the route he'd taken, before she arrived at the closed door of the right room. For some reason the door was locked from the inside, but locks were easy.

She shut her eyes and opened the lock.

“S
AMEH
?”

Adam's voice sounded smothered, and no wonder. He seemed to be wearing a voluptuous woman with short-cropped ebony hair and a tight silver dress. The dress was hoisted up past her curvaceous thighs, which in turn were pressed against a part of Adam that Sameh considered her exclusive territory. She turned her head, gave Sameh an insolent stare, and in a cultured voice said, “How did you get in? This happens to be a private party, dear.”

Sameh hadn't felt such a rush of primitive anger since the last time she'd been in the twentieth century. Without a moment's hesitation, she used the mental abilities she'd perfected, although perhaps not in the precise manner her tutors had intended.

The woman peeled off Adam as easily as a piece of lint. She floated above the ground, wailing and flailing her arms, and Sameh stepped out of the way as she sailed past her and out the open door. She picked up speed as she traveled down the hall and landed with a satisfying thump and a most uncultured grunt on the uncarpeted floor.

Sameh stuck her head out the door in time to see this latest exercise in teleportation scramble to her feet, shrieking as if all the demons in hell were after her, and make a mad dash for the stairs. Then she moved back into the room, slammed the door shut and locked it.

She turned, in slow motion, to look at Adam.

For a long heartbeat, he stood propped against the wall, unmoving, and stared at her. Then he straightened and came toward her. He made a sound deep in his throat, and at last she was in his arms again.

He held her locked tightly against him with one arm, while with the other hand he stroked her hair, ran his fingers over her face and glided a thumb across her lips. He let his hand slide down her shoulders, tracing her waist, the swell of her hips, as if he thought she was smoke and might disappear at his touch, but he encountered only solid, warm flesh, and at last he let out the breath he'd been holding.

“It's you. My God, Sameh. Your hair's longer, but it's really you.” He put his hands on her waist then and held her away from him, abrupt and a little rough. He stared down into her face, a frown creasing his forehead. “So how long are you here for this time, Sameh Smith?” His voice had become harsh and cold.

She looked up into his green eyes. She was planning to tease him just a little, because of the woman, but when she saw the anguish on his face, the pain in his colors, the very real fear in his eyes, she just couldn't do it.

“Only for the rest of this lifetime,” she said as casually as she could manage.

He went still, and then with a groan he pulled her into his arms again, crushing her against him until breathing was difficult. Had he become stronger since she last saw him, or had she forgotten how muscular he was? She really didn't mind being squeezed breathless. It felt better than anything she had experienced since the last time she'd been in his arms.

“You're going to marry me, then. Damn it all, Sameh. Will you marry me this time?”

There was that same impatience, the same vexation in his gruff tone that she remembered so well. She pretended to
think it over. She tipped her head to the side, frowned and considered the question, then shook her head a little against his chest. “Marriage? I don't know. It's such an archaic custom, Adam.”

His large body grew still. She saw the temper building by the rosy sparks shooting from his aura, and she had to hide her grin against his chest.

“Listen, Sameh, don't give me any damned song-and-dance routine right now about our so-called customs, all right? Can't you, for once, say a simple yes without a lecture about how superior your civilization is?”

“But it's not an easy question,” she countered, wondering how far she dared go with this before he exploded. On the other hand, the black-haired woman was very attractive, and he hadn't been fighting for his honor quite as hard as he might have done. “Marriage involves the concepts of equality and trust and mutual sharing, Adam. We really shouldn't have to have a ceremony to validate those doctrines, should we?”

She tilted her head just enough to look up into his face and decided maybe she'd gone far enough when she saw his expression. “Of course,” she added as if the idea had just struck her, “if we were going to have children, then I might change my mind.” She thought-read the next question before he could articulate it. “And since I had my birth sterilization reversed before I came back this time, you should be aware that babies are a very real possibility.”

It was too soon to tell him just how many babies Kendra had foreseen when she studied their probable reality. The idea of such a large family might be too much for him to adjust to on such short notice. But the state of his lower body, pressed against her, told her he wasn't considering diapers and applesauce at all at this point. He was obsessed with the procreative process.

His lips found hers, tasting, exploring. His hand moved, cupped her breast, slid around and down and urged her hips closer still to his hard heat. “I'm all for having babies, Sameh,” he murmured against her lips.

She shivered and kissed him back, tasting his essence, her tongue as reckless as his, letting his touch heal the emptiness she'd lived with for so long. She loved this man. She'd left her homeland and Kendra and all that was familiar and dear to her to come back to him.

The kiss deepened.

From far away came a long burst of applause, music, and then voices and the sound of feet hurrying past in the corridor. Someone tried the door. “Hey, all my clothes are in there! Open up.”

Adam ignored it all. He went right on kissing her until at last, as unwilling to end it as he was, Sameh pulled away a little, aware of the increasing ruckus outside the door. She reached up and traced the new lines at the corners of his mouth, beside his eyes. Her beloved. Her good, honest man. They would age together.

“The ceremony's over, Adam. Bernie and Frances will be looking for me. Bernie said they wouldn't leave until he knew I was safe with you. And Janice is here—I want to tell her hello. And someone wants in here.”

“I asked you a question and you still haven't answered me, Sameh. Damn it all, I love you, woman. Will you marry me? Will you live with me and have my children?”

A new, more officious knocking began at the door. “Security here. Open up in there.”

Adam scowled and cursed and then hollered in a savage tone, “Get the hell away from the door, you idiots. Where were you when I needed you, I'd like to know?”

Sameh giggled. She looked up at this irascible, primitive man who loved her and she had a vision.

For a moment, the corridors of time stood open and she saw herself with Adam, together for centuries past, joined for those still ahead, their entwined destinies like a rich mosaic, filled with promise, filled with loving and laughter and tears and pain, with children, and children's children, before this moment and after it, on and on until the time of her birth in that far off century she'd left for love of him.

“Of course I'll marry you, Adam.”

She saw eternity and truth. She saw the frailty and the power of human love, and it was good.