Authors: Carolyn Rosewood
Notorious Nephilim 1
Spanked by an Angel
Fleeing memories of her recent divorce and longing for some control over her life, Abigail Cosslin takes a two-week vacation at an exclusive resort that caters to its guests’ every desire. When she becomes involved with two of the resort’s mysterious, sexy owners, she doubles her pleasure, but what are they hiding?
Zachary Neville and Emmett Fallon are Nephilim who’ve been imprisoned on Earth for ninety years, and unless they fall in love with a mortal woman, they’re destined to live out eternity indulging in their favorite vices with no permanent satisfaction.
Zach and Emmett helped start Lilith’s Playground during Prohibition as a way to snub those who had a hand in their punishment, but each man longs for true love.
When they meet and seduce Abigail, hope begins to build. But will she believe their story and accept them on such terms? Or will she be lost to them forever?
Contemporary, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Notorious Nephilim 1
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
SPANKED BY AN ANGEL
First E-book Publication: July 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Spanked by an Angel
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This book is dedicated to the angels—fallen or otherwise—who walk among us here on earth.
SPANKED BY AN ANGEL
Notorious Nephilim 1
Copyright © 2012
“Welcome to Lilith’s Playground. Name, please?”
“Abigail Cosslin. From Duluth.”
The gum-snapping girl with the diamond stud through her nose hadn’t asked where she was from. How many Abigail Cosslins could there be who’d decided to spend two weeks at a secluded resort in Fox Lake Illinois, during the middle of January?
“You’re all set.” The girl pushed a glossy pamphlet across the counter and tapped the photos with a black fingernail. “Meals can be delivered to your room, or we have three dining halls. We have twenty-four-hour housekeeping service, so just let us know if you need extra towels or things like shampoo. Here’s the phone number to book personal massages, manis and pedis, or other spa services. You can also book anything through your TV with the remote. Instructions are here. We have free wireless in all the rooms. The password is your room number.”
She opened the pamphlet. “On this page are the sports and what times they’re offered. The lake is frozen, so we do have ice-skating available. If you want to reserve a midnight sleigh ride, do it sooner rather than later because they fill up fast.”
“You have that many guests this time of year?”
The girl smiled wickedly. “We’re always full.”
Gum-Snapper’s hand poised over a bell on the counter, reminding Abigail of her sixteenth birthday when her parents had taken her to New York City. She’d been intrigued by the uniformed bellhops at The Plaza.
“Mr. Fallon,” said the girl, her gaze directed over Abigail’s shoulder, “I almost had to ring the bell. This is Abigail Cosslin.”
The scent of coconut and vanilla tickled Abigail’s nose as she turned around. He wasn’t dressed in a bellhop uniform, but Abigail had no doubt he could carry her luggage. She’d never seen biceps bulge like that under a sweater.
“Hi there. Welcome to Lilith’s Playground. I’m Emmett Fallon, one of the owners.”
She stared at his extended hand as though she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Her gaze traveled up the muscled arm to the slight dusting of dark stubble on his chin, and into eyes so blue she wondered if the same glacier that had carved out Lake Michigan left behind those irises as well.
“I’m Abigail.” As if he hadn’t just heard Gum-Snapper say that. Now he’d think her a prize idiot as well as a gawker.
“Nice name. I’ll show you to your room, Abigail.”
“Thank you.” Were they so shorthanded the owners had to help guests with their bags? She hoped not. This adventure was costing a boatload, but she’d been assured it would be worth every penny.
He loaded her bags onto a cart then pushed it next to the desk. “Tiffany will keep an eye on them while I show you around a bit.”
The drive from home had taken close to nine hours, and she was exhausted, but something about this man renewed her energy. Or maybe it was the tiny dimple in his chin and the sudden mental image of that stubble grazing her nipples.
She nodded, not trusting her voice, as he led her through the lobby.
“We recently redecorated this to restore it to the original Art Deco look.”
“I love it. These photos are intriguing. Are they former guests?”
They stopped in front of a wall boasting dozens of framed photographs. Most of the subjects were dressed in clothing from the thirties and forties, including one man who looked strikingly like Emmett, gathered with other men in a semicircle near the front doors.
“The lady in the center photo, dressed in twenties garb, is Lilith, an ancestor of mine. This resort is named after her.”
Abigail stared into the woman’s exotic eyes. Her gaze traveled lower to exposed cleavage and a short flapper skirt, where long, shapely legs ended in strappy pumps. The only thing missing was the foot-long cigarette holder.
“Lilith, as in the demon who purportedly was Adam’s first wife? Or was she more like the lady depicted in Goethe’s work?”
Emmett grinned in a way that made Abigail’s panties flood. What would it be like to look up into those ice-blue eyes while he drove his cock into her?
“I’m impressed,” he said, without the slightest trace of mockery in his silky smooth voice.
“Liberal arts major with a dash of ancient history and German literature thrown in.”
“Interesting combination.” His gaze traveled over her russet hair and dark eyes, and she wondered if he was talking about her looks or her blending of classes in college.
“Yes, well, I had some trouble deciding what to do with my four years at Winona State, so I just took everything that interested me.”
“That’s the best way to experience college.” He gazed up at Lilith’s portrait. “I’d say she was more like the demon.”
“Are the portraits surrounding hers also family, or are they guests?”
“A bit of both.” He led her down a carpeted hallway where the plush weave rendered their footfalls to mere whispers. The smell of food wafted past her nose, and her stomach rumbled, the sound echoing loudly.
“You must be hungry from that long drive.”
Her face grew hot. “I stopped at a fast-food place off the highway late this morning.”
“We start serving dinner in about an hour.” He waved her inside a dining room decorated like a Victorian parlor. If staring at the photos didn’t give one the impression of stepping back in time, this room certainly would. She could almost smell the violets underneath the hearty aroma of roasting meat and vegetables.
“Let me show you where the indoor pool and spa are located. Then I’ll take you up to your room.”
“I wonder how you have time to give every guest a personal tour,” she said, her mouth watering, though from the smell of food or his enticing scent, she wasn’t sure.
He gave her a smoldering look that sent her heart racing. “We do pride ourselves on catering to
desire our guests have, Abigail.”
The sounds from the kitchen faded away, and there were only Emmett’s eyes, now a darker shade of blue. Abigail watched in fascination as the air around his head seemed to electrify, setting his close-cropped hair on end as though static electricity had passed between them. The scent of vanilla intensified, making her head woozy and her knees weak. Images of naked, sweaty bodies and soft candlelight filled her head, sending shock waves of desire straight to her soaking wet pussy.
She blinked, shaking her head a bit, breaking eye contact. What the hell was wrong with her? A nine-hour drive and an empty stomach, that’s what. Either that or she was more desperate to get laid than she’d ever imagined.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, “but I think I’ll skip the rest of the tour for now. I’d like to lie down before dinner.”
Emmett was still grinning, his eyes the same ice blue as they’d been before, and his hair neatly in place. Talk about an erotic hallucination.
“Whatever you say.”
In the elevator, she was seized with a compulsion to touch him, so she studied the design of the floor tiles to distract her from those biceps. As the doors opened, he waved her into the hallway, pushing the cart behind her.
“You requested something quiet, so we’ve put you in a corner suite.”