Page 20 of Far From Center
“It’s your vibration pattern. I can see it. I couldn’t when that wand broke and turned me into a human, but now I can, and it’s different than it was when I first met you. Here, for just a moment, you achieved something that angels strive their whole lives to obtain. If we’re lucky, we might manage a brief glimpses of balance, of oneness, but you just slid into it so easily, like it was your birthright.”
She shrugged, squirming awkwardly, well aware that her face was probably bright red at the extravagant compliment. For an angel, especially an angel with Gabriel’s reputation, praising her vibration pattern was more meaningful than saying she was beautiful or had a sexy body. “Oh, you player, you,” she teased. “You’re just trying to sweet talk your way into my pants.”
“You’re not wearing pants,” he replied.
“Yes I am.” She snapped the elastic of her panties.
He eyed them, a spark of remembrance lighting up his face. A smile curled up one side of his mouth, giving him a rakish, naughty look. “Ah yes, the tiny pants. I’m very familiar with them after folding at least a dozen pairs and organizing them by color in your dresser drawer.” He took a step toward her, an odd silver color to his eyes. “And I remember having a pair of them shoved into my mouth as well.”
“Would you like them as a souvenir? A little something to remember me by when you’re an angel once more?”
His eyes were definitely silver. Silver and an odd ice blue. “Yes, I would like to have them as well as the ones you’re wearing right now.”
Was he…did he understand how very sexy this conversation had become? She had nothing to lose beyond looking like a total fool, so she reached down and peeled off the panties, tossing them to him.
He caught them midair, and grinned. “That top piece, too. I need the set, you know.”
“The bra? If I get arrested for public nudity, you need to find a way to get me out of jail,” she said as she unsnapped the garment.
“You were naked on the other side of the island this morning, so clearly there are no laws against public nudity here.” He twirled the panties around his finger. “Come on. I want that bra.”
Technically she could get in trouble for being completely naked here instead of just topless sunbathing. The other side of the island wasn’t populated enough for her to worry. But it was dark, and there was no one around to see, so she took the bra off and tossed it to him, feeling her nipples harden in the cool night air.
“They won’t fit you, you know,” she called out.
He laughed and held the bra up to his chest. “No, they most certainly won’t. But they will make lovely souvenirs.”
Nyalla eyed the wet boxers clinging to his body. “I need a souvenir too.”
She wanted them. And more than that, she wanted Gabriel out of them.
He looked down. “Souvenir of what? I didn’t tie you to the bed and shove my under clothing in your mouth.”
Heat flooded through her. Nyalla squirmed, desperately wanting to touch herself. Actually she wanted him to touch her. Could that be where this whole thing was leading? Oh Goddess, she hoped so.
“You should do that. I’ve been a very bad girl, and you did say you were going to punish me. I think tying me to the bed and putting your boxer shorts in my mouth isn’t enough though. I need to be naked. And you need to be naked. And there should be lots of touching involved.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Nyalla, are you suggesting that we create offspring together? You need to know that you should present your petition in writing along with all the attributes you’d like me to contribute to the child and the terms of our arrangement. It will take me several months to consider your request, and then I may counter with suggested modifications.”
He was teasing, and it would have been funny except for one horrible truth that crashed down on her, making her remember that eighteen years of slavery would never completely be behind her.
“It wouldn’t matter. The elves made sure of that. I can’t have children. I’ll never have children.”
His muscles tensed, the silvery color in his eyes fading to dark gray. “What do you mean? What did they do?”
Nyalla turned around to look out to the ocean. “That’s another thing I don’t want to talk about.”
She heard the splash of water and felt him pull her against him, her back against his bare chest, his arms wrapped around underneath her breasts. “I’m changing the rules here. I want you to tell me what happened, what they did to you. And in return I don’t get to keep the painful parts of my life from you. Total honesty. No topics off the table.”
“Even me talking about my inevitable death, or sex, or how good that fried grouper was tonight?”
His breath had caught at her mention of death, but he relaxed as she continued the sentence. “Agreed. Now what exactly did the elves do to you that you can never have children?”
She leaned her head back against him. “It wasn’t just me. All the human slaves were rendered infertile by an elven spell at the start of puberty. They worked it so we still matured and retained the correct hormone balance, but we can’t have children. When Sam brought me here, one of the first things I did was see a doctor to find out if the spell was reversible. It isn’t. The doctor was so sad, so sympathetic that he needed to tell a young woman she’d never have children of her own. Then he went on to say I could always adopt or find a surrogate with donor eggs. It’s not just that I don’t ovulate, but my uterus won’t even allow for pregnancy. The elves were very thorough, no doubt thinking a clever sorcerer would come up with a way around the spell and then we’d be able to conceive and bear children.”
She felt a drop of moisture hit her shoulder. Was he crying? An archangel was crying?
“But you said the elves loved children. Why would they do such a thing?” His voice sounded like he’d been cut with a thousand razor blades.
