Page 54 of Angel In Armani

“I think I can. And we can see what happens from there. So what do you say? Want to give it a whirl? Let me be your … guardian angel.”

“Guardian angel?” Her eyebrows rose. “Trying to earn your wings, Dr. Angelo?”

“You’re the one with wings,” he said. “I just want to … make you smile. Give you some time out.”

Make her smile. Make things easier. Damn. He certainly knew which buttons to push. “I don’t think guardian angels sleep with their … um, what do you call it? Charges?”

“I’m a modern angel,” he said with another smile. “Whatever it takes to make my girl happy.”

“I didn’t think guardian angels were quite so cocky,” she shot back. And she didn’t think they were hot, either. He was much more your basic fallen-angel model, tempting her onto the wrong path. Only it didn’t feel wrong. It felt very, very tempting.

“I’m not cocky, I’m optimistic. After all, you haven’t said yes, yet.”

“And what happens if this all goes wrong?”

“Then I’d hope that I’d behave like any good angel and do the honorable thing. Bow out gracefully.”

Which would be easy for him to do, because if things went wrong between them, it was likely that she’d be the one doing the one-way ticket to hell. She chewed her lip. “I like you, Lucas. You know that, but I can’t lose this job.”

“I will not fire you if you break up with me, Sara. And if you don’t want anyone else at the Saints to know, I’ll be the very soul of discretion. Angels are good at that. Trust me. I don’t want to screw up your life.”

“If you really meant that, then you’d walk away.”

“I really don’t want to do that,” he said.

“Why not?” she asked.

He reached across and curled his fingers around hers. Her pulse skittered as the warmth of his skin spread across hers. When she met his gaze, his eyes had gone dark and hot.

“Because of that,” he said. “And the thing is, Sara Charles, I don’t think you want to walk away from that, either.”

Chapter Twelve

When the whine of the rotors finally died, the silence in the helo was far too intimate for her liking. It wrapped around them, drawing them together like the candlelight had back in the restaurant. Making her think foolish, foolish thoughts. Making her wish she could be the girl that Lucas saw when he flirted with her.

But she wasn’t. And this was a helicopter that Lucas was paying for and she needed to climb out of it and remember what her life was really like. No matter how seductive Lucas’s argument had been back in the restaurant. Where she hadn’t said yes. And she hadn’t said no, either.

“Give me your home number,” Lucas said softly.

Five little words. Six whole syllables. How much trouble could four little words cause?

A lot, part of her knew. You just had to listen to his voice in the darkness to know he was a lot of trouble waiting to happen. To her.

Oh but such good trouble, the rest of her retorted. C’mon, you know you want to.

Lucas leaned a little closer. Just a little. Just enough to make her want to lean in closer, too. She tried to remember why it was she hadn’t just said yes already. “I?—”

“Just your number,” he said. “That’s all. After all, a guardian angel needs to be able to get in touch with his charge.”

She smiled then, against her will. “You already know my work cell. And I already told you, I don’t need an angel.”

“Maybe the angel needs you.”

His voice was so low and delicious in the dim light that she really wanted to believe it could be true.

Her good sense cracked, just a little. She wrote the number down on the notepad she kept stashed near her pilot’s seat and handed it to him.

“Just a number,” she said. “It’s not an invitation.”

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