Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

He took her card key and swiped it, then pushed open the door and ushered her inside.

“Oh…” she gasped, twirling in a slow circle to take it all in. Deep blue and gold brocade lined the walls, opulent draperies framed the windows, and the furniture looked as though it belonged in a museum.

“Bedroom is this way,” he said.

Abigail was almost reluctant to follow him. His scent had rendered her unable to form a coherent thought. She trailed behind him, enjoying the view of his ass in khakis. The bedroom was as richly appointed as the sitting room, with a bed that looked big enough for at least three people. Her thoughts raced with erotic images.

“The fireplace is gas, and the kitchenette has plates and utensils. If you need anything else, just call the front desk. I hope I’ll see you at dinner.”

She nodded, swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, then forced herself to speak, even though her mouth had gone bone-dry. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Good. I hate eating alone.”

“With your looks, I doubt you do that very often.” Abigail’s eyes widened, and she nearly clamped a hand over her mouth. Where had that come from?

Emmett laughed softly and stepped closer. The heat from his body mixed with the flush from her embarrassment until the space around her felt toasty, as if he’d lit the fireplace.

“I daresay I doubt you eat alone much either, Abigail.”

If he only knew…

Emmett touched her hair, just a quick brush with his finger, but it set off that odd electrified charge to the air again. It must be the winter air. Everything was dry. Even as she formed the thought, she knew it wasn’t the dry air. The sparks came from him, along with that coconut-and-vanilla scent.

“See you in an hour, Abigail.”

His voice, smooth as silk, rang in her ears like the whisper of a dream long after she realized he was no longer standing in front of her. She stared at the bed, half expecting to see him draped across it naked.

Disappointment settled over her like a shroud, followed by the voice in her head that always accompanied such fantasies. Abigail Emily Cosslin wasn’t the sort of woman who hopped into bed with the first good-looking guy who came down the pike. Oh no. She did things the right way. The
proper
way. She married the right man, bought the right house, and invited only the best people to parties.

“And threw only the most expensive china at her embezzling, cheating ex-husband’s dick,” she muttered.

No. She didn’t want to think about Malcolm. Not on this trip. These two weeks were for her and her alone. It was time to be self-absorbed and indecent for the first time in her life.

Emmett wandered into an office behind the front desk to find Zachary Neville shuffling papers, just as he’d left him hours ago. When he perched on the edge of the desk, Zach’s coffee cup shook, and some of the liquid splashed onto the ledger.

“Dammit.” Zach snatched it away and took a sip, wincing. “It’s cold.”

“Of course it’s cold. You poured it twelve hours ago. Why don’t you come to dinner and meet our newest guest, Abigail?”

Zach regarded him with eyes the color of pewter and filled with his usual impatience. “Why don’t you believe me when I say I’m bored with our guests?”

“You won’t find this one boring.”

Zach sighed and shuffled the papers, then pulled out a registration form. “Abigail Emily Cosslin, age twenty-nine, graduated summa cum laude from Winona State University in Winona, Minnesota, employed as a legal assistant—by her father, no less—William Bennett Cosslin, of the firm—”

“I know her background. I read it, too, remember? She’s not like most of them.”

“Really?” Zach arched his eyebrows and continued reading. “Divorced less than six months ago, no kids, lives in a home Daddy gave her as a wedding present.” Zach tossed the paper onto the desk. “She’s exactly like the others. They come here, use our bodies, have their fun, and leave.”

Emmett rose and walked over to the window, admiring the view as he’d done for the past ninety years. It hadn’t changed much except for the landscaping near the building. That came and went, but the lake and surrounding wilderness remained untouched. He hoped they’d be able to keep it this way for a while longer.

“You’re getting morose, Zachary.”

“I’m tired, Emmett. We started this resort as a lark. In their face, show them how bad we can be, have all the fun we can. But it’s become boring.”

Emmett turned around, resisting the urge to laugh. “Sex is boring?”

“No. It’s their attitudes. They treat us like nothing more than bodies.”

“Well, we have worked quite hard to build up that reputation. What do you want to do? Fall in love and choose a mortal existence like Leo, Sterling, and the others have done? Is that what you’re telling me? Pretty soon I’ll be running the place by myself.”

“Like you run it now, you mean?”

“You’re being bitchy. I keep the guests happy. They come back. They tell their friends. That means money, and it means we stay in business.”

Emmett turned his gaze back toward the landscape. This wasn’t the first time he and Zach had had this conversation, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. Zach had been unhappy for decades now. He buried himself in the accounting end of the business, and the others were content to let him do so, but his attitude was starting to affect all of them.

Emmett would never admit this to Zach, but being used as a sex toy was starting to wear thin on him as well. It had been fun at first, and a great way to say “fuck you” to Gabriel, Michael, and the other archangels who’d had a hand in Emmett, Zach, and the others being banished to Earth, but now it was becoming tedious. Emmett was jealous of the others who’d found true love. It was something he found difficult to admit, even to himself. Every time a woman like Abigail came along, one who didn’t try to get him into bed as soon as he showed her to her room, a glimmer of hope began to build.

“You still with us?” asked Zach.

Emmett turned to face him. “Yeah, just admiring the view.” He grinned, hoping it masked his thoughts. Zach didn’t miss much.

Zach stood and stretched. “What are we serving tonight?”

“Lamb with mint sauce. Your favorite.”

“Maybe I’ll eat something.”

“At the very least, you can get some fresh coffee.” Emmett clapped Zachary on the back. “And you can meet Abigail. She’s pretty, but doesn’t act like she knows it.”

“They’re the most dangerous ones.”

Emmett strolled toward the threshold. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

* * * *

When the pair entered the dining room, every woman stopped talking or eating to watch their progress. Emmett winked at a blonde he’d spent the night with earlier in the week, struggling to remember her name. She smiled, her face full of hope, but Emmett quickly averted his gaze and searched the room.

There she was, sitting alone in the corner, her chair turned toward the expanse of windows. He couldn’t blame her. During the summer, Glacier Lake was overrun with Jet Skis and boats, but in the wintertime, its beauty and serenity were like a glimpse of heaven. The fact it had already frozen this year was a bonus. Several ice-skaters dotted the surface, bathed in the floodlights they’d installed around the perimeter.

He motioned to Zachary, and the pair walked over to her table. “May we join you, Abigail?”

She turned and smiled, her chocolate-colored eyes slightly wet. Emmett pulled out a chair and moved it close enough to smell her flowery perfume. Something heavy and musky would suit her better.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“Yes. Just admiring the scenery.”

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

She nodded as her gaze traveled up to where Zach stood.

“Where are my manners? My associate, Zachary Neville. Zach, Abigail Cosslin.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

Zach swallowed, and his eyes clouded over with confusion. Emmett tried not to grin. It was rare to see Zach react to a woman, but he wasn’t surprised. Abigail had an old-fashioned elegance to her face. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but a few tendrils had escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. Emmett pictured taking the hair band out as she lay back naked against the pillows on her bed.

“How are you enjoying your stay so far, Abigail?” Zach pulled out a chair and sat across from her.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Have you ordered dinner?” asked Emmett.

“Yes, just a moment ago.”

He turned, spotted one of the waiters, and motioned him over. After he and Zach had given their orders, Emmett turned his attention back to Abigail. “I always love to hear how our guests heard about this place.”

She blinked a few times, her face flushed. Then she fixed her gaze on a small defect in the wooden table. “A friend of a friend vacationed here last winter.”

“Mind if I ask who?”

Abigail regarded him with a curious stare. “Do you remember all your guests?”

“Only the beautiful ones.”

Her laugh was quick and nervous. “At least you’re honest.”

Their drinks arrived, and Abigail wrapped her hands around the steaming mug of hot chocolate.

“Good idea putting some Baileys in that,” said Zach, raising his glass of Knob Creek. He never drank anything else. “It’s kind of bland without it.”

“Are you also one of the owners, Mr. Neville?”

“Yes. Please call me Zach.”

“How did this place get started?”

Zach almost smiled. “It’s a long, boring story.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Abigail sipped the chocolate, her gaze flitting from one face to the other.

“We’d rather hear about your life,” said Emmett, still wondering why she’d been crying before they joined her.

“You probably know everything, considering the questionnaire I had to fill out was, like, twenty pages long.”

Emmett laughed. “It’s only ten.” He leaned forward. “I don’t care where you went to school or where you grew up. Tell me what makes you happy, what makes you cry, and your favorite crayon color.”

In his peripheral vision, Emmett caught Zach’s eye roll, followed by him signaling for their waiter. “We’ll have another round,” said Zach pointing to his glass.

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Abigail. “One is my limit.”

“You’re on vacation,” said Zach. “Relax and enjoy yourself.”

She hesitated, her gaze locked on his face. Emmett held his breath. The fact that Zach was still sitting here with them was odd enough behavior for him, but trying to coax a woman into having a good time wasn’t something he’d seen his friend do in years.

“Okay. I’ll have one more.”

Emmett leaned back in his chair. “Now, about those questions I asked.”

She drained her mug and gave him a direct stare. “I haven’t colored with crayons in a long time, but I’ve always been partial to the reds and oranges.”

“Not surprising.”

“That I haven’t colored in a long time, or that I’m partial to reds and oranges?”

“Both.”

She sighed and picked up a roll, sliced it with neat precision, and buttered one half. Emmett imagined her sitting up straight in the family dining room while her mother instructed her on how to butter a roll in public, how to fold a napkin so it didn’t fall out of her lap, and which fork to use for the salad. Somewhere in the house, a clock would chime softly, and the only other sounds in the room would be the gentle clink of silver against china.

“I do know how to have fun, Emmett.”

“I have my doubts about that, Abigail.”

She stopped buttering her roll and looked into his eyes. “I can’t tell when you’re serious.”

“I’m never serious.” He grinned, enjoying the way her gaze softened and her face flushed slightly. He was well aware of the effect his smile had on women.

Abigail ate her roll, her gaze darting around the room, until their salads arrived. She looked relieved to have something to do as she picked off the croutons and placed them delicately on the plate next to her roll.

“You could have requested they leave them off,” said Zach.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” She put a forkful of lettuce into her mouth without looking up from her bowl.

Emmett had already suspected she was a bit of an ice princess, but now he wondered if something deeper was going on. She’d been divorced less than six months. What had happened to break up her marriage? Had she always been this reserved and closed, or had her marriage done that to her? He didn’t buy Zach’s dismissal of her being like all the rest. His instincts were well honed after ninety years on Earth. There was more to Abigail than a rich-bitch ice queen.

He was more determined than ever to thaw her out. Why else had she come here if not to enjoy herself? If her friend of a friend had been here last year and told her about the place, she knew exactly what to expect.

“You didn’t tell me your friend’s name,” he said, looking up at her from under his lashes.

She finished chewing her food before answering. “Sharon McKee.”

Emmett shrugged. The name didn’t bring back any specific memories. “We have a lot of guests.”

Abigail’s gaze roamed the room again. “So I see. And they’re mostly female.”

“But surely you already knew that,” said Zach, the corners of his mouth turning up. “How’s your salad?”

“It’s very good. How do you find such fresh vegetables in the winter?”

Zach paused to take a sip of his drink before answering. “You can’t expect us to tell all our secrets right away.”

“Implying that you intend to reveal some of them?”

Zach fixed her with a pointed stare. “It bothers you when people don’t answer your questions directly.”

“I think it bothers most people.”

Abigail’s tone had become defensive, and Emmett debated the best way to intervene. Zach couldn’t hold his tongue after a couple of drinks. Emmett didn’t want him screwing things up with Abigail her first night here. Emmett had wanted her in bed from the moment he’d watched her check in. After her reaction to him earlier in the hallway outside this room, he regarded making love to her as a done deal. Unless Zach fucked it up with his bad attitude.