“Why?” What would he do if she touched him? The tiny gossamer wings on her own back fluttered at the thought. Her T-shirt was designed especially for her kind, the material loose to keep from pinning those wings as she jolted into super-speed. “Wait. Don’t answer. Let’s make out first.” A lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Bianka,” he said, his patience clearly waning. “This is not a game. Do not make me bind you to my bed.”

“Ohh, now that I like. Sounds kinky.” She darted around him, running her fingertips over his cheek, his neck. “You’re as soft as a baby.”

He sucked in a breath, stiffened. “Bianka.”

“But better equipped.”

“Bianka!”

She patted his butt. “Yes?”

“You will cease that immediately!”

“Make me.” She laughed, the amused, carefree sound echoing between them.

Scowling, he reached out and latched onto her upper arm. There wasn’t time to evade him; shockingly, he was faster than she was. He jerked her in front of him, and dark, narrowed eyes stared down at her.

“There will be no touching. Do you understand?”

“Do you?” Her gaze flicked to his hand, still clutching her arm. “At the moment, you’re the one touching me.”

Like hers, his gaze fell to where they were connected. He licked his lips, and his grip tightened just the way she liked. Then he released her as if she were on fire and once again increased the distance between them.

“Do you understand?” His tone was hard and flat.

What was the problem? He should be begging to touch her. She was a desirable Harpy, damn it. Her body was a work of art and her face total perfection. But for his benefit, she said, “Yeah, I understand. That doesn’t mean I’ll obey.” Her skin tingled, craving the return of his. Bad girl. Bad, bad girl. He’s a stupid angel and therefore not an appropriate plaything.

A moment passed as he absorbed her words. “Are you not frightened of me?” His wings folded into his back, arcing over his shoulders.

“No,” she said, raising a brow and doing her best to appear unaffected. “Should I be?”

“Yes.”

Well, then, he’d have to somehow grow the fiery claws of her father’s people. That was the only thing that scared her. Having been scratched as a child, having felt the acid-burn of fire spread through her entire body, having spent days writhing in agonizing, seemingly endless pain, she would do anything to avoid such an experience again.

“Well, I’m still not. And now you’re starting to bore me.” She anchored her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. “I asked you a question but you never answered it. Why do you want me to be like you? So much so, that you brought me into heaven, of all places?”

A muscle ticked below one of his eyes. “Because I am good and you are evil.”

Another laugh escaped her. He frowned, and her laughter increased until tears were running from her eyes. When she quieted, she said, “Good job. You staved off the boredom.”

His frown deepened. “I was not teasing you. I mean to keep you here forever and train you to be sinless.”

“Gods, how— Oops, sorry. I mean, golly, how adorable are you? ‘I mean to keep you here forever and train you,’” she said in her best impersonation of him. There was no reason to fight about her eventual escape. She’d prove him wrong just as soon as she decided to leave. Right now, she was too intrigued. With her surroundings, she assured herself, and not the angel. Heaven was not a place she’d ever thought to visit.

His chin lifted a notch, but his eyes remained expressionless. “I am serious.”

“I’m sure you are. But you’ll find that you can’t keep me anywhere I don’t want to be. And me? Without sin? Funny!”

“We shall see.”

His confidence might have unnerved her had she been less confident in her own abilities. As a Harpy, she could lift a semi as if it were no more significant than a pebble, could move faster than the human eye could see and had no problem slaying an unwelcome host.

“Be honest,” she said. “You saw me and wanted a piece, right?”

For the briefest of moments, horror blanketed his face. “No,” he croaked out, then cleared his throat and said more smoothly, “No.”

Insulting bastard. Why such horror at the thought of being with her? She was the one who should be horrified. He was clearly a do-gooder, more so than she’d realized. I am good and you are evil, he’d said. Ugh.

“So tell me again why you want to change me. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you shouldn’t mess with perfection?”

That muscle started ticking below his eye again. “You are a menace.”

“Whatever, dude.” She liked to steal—so what. She could kill without blinking—again, so what. It wasn’t like she worked for the IRS or anything. “Where’s my sister, Kaia? She’s as much a menace as I am, I’m sure. So why don’t you want to change her?”

“She is still in Alaska, wondering if you are buried inside an ice cave. And you are my only project at the moment.”

Project? Bastard. But she did like the thought of Kaia searching high and low but finding no sign of her, almost like they were playing a game of Hide and Seek. Bianka would totally, finally win.

“You appear…excited,” he said, head tilting to the side. “Why? Does her concern not disturb you?”

Yep. A certified do-gooder. “It’s not like I’ll be here long.” She peeked over his shoulder; more of that wisping white greeted her. “Got anything to drink here?”

“No.”

“Eat?”

“No.”

“Wear?”

“No.”

Slowly the corners of her lips lifted. “I guess that means you like to go naked. Awesome.”

His cheeks reddened. “Enough. You are trying to bait me and I do not like it.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought me here.” Hey, wait a minute. He’d never really told her why he’d chosen her as his project, she realized. “Be honest. Do you need my help with something?” After all, she, like many of her fellow Harpies, was a mercenary, paid to find and retrieve. Her motto: if it’s unethical and illegal and you’ve got the cash, I’m your girl! “I mean, I know you didn’t just bring me here to save the world from my naughty influence. Otherwise, millions of other people would be here with me.”

He crossed his arms over his massive chest.

She sighed. Knowing men as she did, she knew he was done answering that type of question. Oh, well. She could have convinced him otherwise by annoying him until he caved, but she didn’t want to put the work in.

“So what do you do for fun around here?” she asked.

“I destroy demons.”

Like you, she finished for him. But he’d already said he had no intention of killing her, and she believed him—how could she not? That voice… “So you don’t want to hurt me, you don’t want to touch me, but you do want me to live here forever.”

“Yes.”

“I’d be an idiot to refuse such an offer.” That she sounded sincere was a miracle. “We’ll pretend to be married and spend the nights locked in each other’s arms, kissing and touching, our bodies—”

“Stop. Just stop.” And, drumroll please, that muscle began ticking under his eye again.

This time, there was no fighting her grin. It spread wide and proud. That tic was a sign of anger, surely. But what would it take to make that anger actually seep into his irises? What would it take to break even a fraction of his iron control?

“Show me around,” she said. “If I’m going to live here, I need to know where my walk-in closet is.” During the tour, she could accidentally-on-purpose brush against him. Over and over again. “Do we have cable?”

“No. And I cannot give you a tour. I have duties. Important duties.”

“Yeah, you do. My pleasure. That should be priority one.”

Teeth grinding together, he turned on his heel and strode away. “You will find it difficult to get into trouble here, so I suggest you do not even try.” His voice echoed behind him.

Please. She could get into trouble with nothing but a toothpick and a spoon. “If you leave, I’ll rearrange everything.” Not that there was any furniture to be seen.

Silence.

“I’ll get bored and take off.”

“Try.”

It was a response, at least. “So you’re seriously going to leave me? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

“Yes.” Another response, though he didn’t stop walking.

“What about that bed you were going to chain me to? Where is it?”

Uh-oh, back to silence.

“You didn’t even tell me your name,” she called, irritated despite herself. How could he abandon her like that? He should hunger for more of her. “Well? I deserve to know the name of the man I’ll be cursing.”

Finally, he stopped. Still, a long while passed in silence and she thought he meant to ignore her. Again. Then he said, “My name is Lysander,” and stepped from the cloud, disappearing from view.

CHAPTER THREE

LYSANDER WATCHED AS TWO newly recruited warrior angels—angels under his training and command—finally subdued a demonic minion that had dug its way free from hell. The creature was scaled from head to hoof and little horns protruded from its shoulders and back. Its eyes were bright red, like crystallized blood.

The fight had lasted half an hour, and both angels were now bleeding, panting. Demons were notorious for their biting and scratching.

Lysander should have been able to critique the men and tell them what they had done wrong. That way, they would do a better job next time. But as they’d struggled with the fiend, his mind had drifted to Bianka. What was she doing? Was she resigned to her fate yet? He’d given her several days alone to calm and accept.