entire set of female private parts.
Mine. Finders keepers. But could he really claim Marielle for himself? She didn‟t want him; she wanted to go back to heaven where it was all beautiful music and perfect angels sharing lovely thoughts. No secrets and sinful creatures like himself.
Three forms wavered close to the couch, then solidified.
He took a deep breath. “We have company.”
Chapter Eight
T his is Robby MacKay.” Connor introduced Angus‟s great-grandson, who strode toward them, carrying a tote bag. “Robby, this is Marielle.”
“How do ye do?” Robby set the bag on the kitchen counter. “We brought you some clothes.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and extended a hand. “So you‟re a vampire, too?”
“Aye.” Robby eyed her hand. “I hear ye‟re an angel of death.”
“She willna harm you,” Connor muttered.
Robby gave her a quick handshake, then slapped Connor on the shoulder. “What happened to yer claymore?”
“ ‟Tis on top of Mount Rushmore. I‟ll fetch it later.” He noticed Marielle was studying her hand with a perplexed look.
“Wow!” Gregori approached her, smiling. “You are such a babe!”
She glanced over her shoulder.
In spite of an overwhelming urge to throw the nearest object at the womanizing Vamp, Connor‟s chest filled with warmth. Marielle had no idea how beautiful she was. He leaned over and whispered, “The idiot is referring to you.”
“I heard that,” Gregori muttered.
“But I have never been a babe,” Marielle protested. “I was created as I am, though in a spiritual form. This body is new to me.”
Gregori looked her over, his eyes gleaming. “Well, if you need any help getting acquainted with it, just let me know.”
“Show some respect, ye bloody pig.” Connor glanced at the kitchen counter to see what he could throw. The toaster, perhaps?
“Hey, if she‟s any indication of what‟s waiting for us in heaven”—Gregori motioned to her—“then kill me now.”
She shook her head. “Oh no! I have no wish to harm you.”
Connor leaned close to her. “Doona let him upset you. He‟s operating under the false perception that he‟s somehow charming.”
Robby chuckled.
Gregori snorted. “At least I‟m not an old grouch.” He turned to Marielle and winked.
“Great outfit. The toga look really suits you.”
She glanced down at the sheet. “Thank you. Connor fixed it for me.”
“Oh, really?” Gregori‟s mouth twitched. “I didn‟t know he was so . . . handy.”
“Sod off,” Connor grumbled. The toaster wouldn‟t do. Maybe the big wooden chopping block.
“I am delighted to meet you, my beautiful angel.” Gregori took her hand and kissed it, his mouth lingering on her skin.
Connor gritted his teeth. The chopping block wouldn‟t do. Maybe the meat cleaver.
“Pleased to meet you.” She retrieved her hand from Gregori‟s grasp. Her brow furrowed once again with a perplexed look.
Connor picked up a black rubber coaster. “Why are ye here, Gregori?”
“My mother insisted, so I could give her a full report.” He gave Marielle an apologetic look. “She really wanted to come herself. She‟s dying to meet you, but Roman was afraid there might be some real dying after what happened to— Hey!” He narrowly dodged the coaster that zipped past his ear and bounced off the wall behind him. “What the hell was that?”
Connor arched an eyebrow as he reached for a second coaster.
“Why are you throwing things?” Marielle asked.
He shrugged. “Target practice.”
Robby‟s eyes narrowed. “Does she no‟ know?”
“There‟s nothing to know.” Connor dropped the coaster and led her toward the fireplace where the third person was waiting. The priest had remained silent since their arrival, gazing at the angel with a look of awe and reverence.
“I‟d like you to meet Father Andrew,” Connor said.
Marielle smiled. “God bless you, dear soul.”
The priest pressed a
Mine. Finders keepers. But could he really claim Marielle for himself? She didn‟t want him; she wanted to go back to heaven where it was all beautiful music and perfect angels sharing lovely thoughts. No secrets and sinful creatures like himself.
Three forms wavered close to the couch, then solidified.
He took a deep breath. “We have company.”
Chapter Eight
T his is Robby MacKay.” Connor introduced Angus‟s great-grandson, who strode toward them, carrying a tote bag. “Robby, this is Marielle.”
“How do ye do?” Robby set the bag on the kitchen counter. “We brought you some clothes.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and extended a hand. “So you‟re a vampire, too?”
“Aye.” Robby eyed her hand. “I hear ye‟re an angel of death.”
“She willna harm you,” Connor muttered.
Robby gave her a quick handshake, then slapped Connor on the shoulder. “What happened to yer claymore?”
“ ‟Tis on top of Mount Rushmore. I‟ll fetch it later.” He noticed Marielle was studying her hand with a perplexed look.
“Wow!” Gregori approached her, smiling. “You are such a babe!”
She glanced over her shoulder.
In spite of an overwhelming urge to throw the nearest object at the womanizing Vamp, Connor‟s chest filled with warmth. Marielle had no idea how beautiful she was. He leaned over and whispered, “The idiot is referring to you.”
“I heard that,” Gregori muttered.
“But I have never been a babe,” Marielle protested. “I was created as I am, though in a spiritual form. This body is new to me.”
Gregori looked her over, his eyes gleaming. “Well, if you need any help getting acquainted with it, just let me know.”
“Show some respect, ye bloody pig.” Connor glanced at the kitchen counter to see what he could throw. The toaster, perhaps?
“Hey, if she‟s any indication of what‟s waiting for us in heaven”—Gregori motioned to her—“then kill me now.”
She shook her head. “Oh no! I have no wish to harm you.”
Connor leaned close to her. “Doona let him upset you. He‟s operating under the false perception that he‟s somehow charming.”
Robby chuckled.
Gregori snorted. “At least I‟m not an old grouch.” He turned to Marielle and winked.
“Great outfit. The toga look really suits you.”
She glanced down at the sheet. “Thank you. Connor fixed it for me.”
“Oh, really?” Gregori‟s mouth twitched. “I didn‟t know he was so . . . handy.”
“Sod off,” Connor grumbled. The toaster wouldn‟t do. Maybe the big wooden chopping block.
“I am delighted to meet you, my beautiful angel.” Gregori took her hand and kissed it, his mouth lingering on her skin.
Connor gritted his teeth. The chopping block wouldn‟t do. Maybe the meat cleaver.
“Pleased to meet you.” She retrieved her hand from Gregori‟s grasp. Her brow furrowed once again with a perplexed look.
Connor picked up a black rubber coaster. “Why are ye here, Gregori?”
“My mother insisted, so I could give her a full report.” He gave Marielle an apologetic look. “She really wanted to come herself. She‟s dying to meet you, but Roman was afraid there might be some real dying after what happened to— Hey!” He narrowly dodged the coaster that zipped past his ear and bounced off the wall behind him. “What the hell was that?”
Connor arched an eyebrow as he reached for a second coaster.
“Why are you throwing things?” Marielle asked.
He shrugged. “Target practice.”
Robby‟s eyes narrowed. “Does she no‟ know?”
“There‟s nothing to know.” Connor dropped the coaster and led her toward the fireplace where the third person was waiting. The priest had remained silent since their arrival, gazing at the angel with a look of awe and reverence.
“I‟d like you to meet Father Andrew,” Connor said.
Marielle smiled. “God bless you, dear soul.”
The priest pressed a
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