The Devil's Angel (The Devil's Assistant Series Book 4)

the devil's angel - chapter 19

We didn't speak of the events which occurred only a few days previous. After Caspar's meltdown, the house had been lingering in a period of bliss. It was the calm before the storm. I could feel it within my bones that the current state of things was only going to be temporary. As it always did, reality was going to come knocking on our door sooner rather than later.

Caspar's night terrors had abated for the moment which meant he was at least getting some rest. The dark circles had gone from under his eyes so he did not resemble a zombie anyone. It didn't mean he was well. He wasn't and not by a long shot. Whatever had stopped haunting him while he slept was now haunting him during his waking hours.

Francesca Bridger truly was a Godsend. My white haired houseguest had spent a lot of time with my assistant when they could, the pair understanding each other in ways that I could never relate to. Yet even with her help, I knew Caspar was balancing on a treacherous precipice. His decisions in the coming days would be his salvation or his downfall. For the sake of everyone involved, I hoped he would make the right decision.

Smoothing down the lapels of Lucius' Tuxedo, I chose to forget my worries for a while and instead I took a step back and enjoyed the view. My appreciation left my lips in a satisfied sigh. There was no denying that the man looked good in a suit but in a tuxedo he was damn near perfection.

Letting my gaze wander upwards, I felt a blush flood my cheeks. His beautiful blue eyes twinkled down at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. I would have said it was impossible but in the grand scheme of things I had seen so many strange and bizarre things it wasn't too far of a leapt to think he could see or hear my thoughts.

"You look dashing, Mr Satani," I whispered softly.

I could feel the eyes of my other houseguests trained firmly upon us. They never stopped staring. I supposed they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. We had both spent so long dancing around the other we were a bit of a novelty to them.

"Thank you Miss Holmes," he charmed, his voice dropping to a smooth and seductive cadence which affected me more than I cared to admit.

Stroking his finger down my cheek, caressing down my neck and then dancing his fingertips across my collarbone, I tried not to react. He was watching me, his penetrating stare looking for a reaction. He brushed his fingers back along my collarbone and up the side of my neck. A sigh of pleasure escaped my lips a second before his warm lips claimed mine.

Gently. Patiently. It was almost as if he expected me to protest and push him away.

I did the very opposite. Moving closer to him, I slid my hands up from his lapels and lifted my hands and tangled them into his hair holding him to me as I deepened the kiss.

It felt good. It felt right. For the first time I felt completely at ease in the arms of another person.

"We're running late – again." Francesca commented, her sharp words cutting through the fog.

I pulled away and was greeted by a round of wolf whistles and jeers. Men never changed. I rolled my eyes at the group before turning to my amazing PR woman and offering an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I just got a little caught up in the moment. You know how it is."

Shaking her head, she waved an arm towards the door.

"Get moving now before I push you out the door. You're giving me a bad name by being late to every event you attend." She chastised.

Grabbing my shawl and my silver clutch bag from the chair, I allowed Lucius to wrap an arm around my waist and lead me from the house. Our driver was there, the perfect example of professionalism. There were no signs that he was annoyed at us for keeping him waiting. He just nodded his head and held open the door for us both. I suppose it was the hefty pay package Lucius had offered him to keep him on retainer.