How he could straddle the fires of hell and the pleasures of the sweetest angel, he didn’t know. Perhaps he was betwixt the two worlds and it was as of yet undecided which direction he would venture.

“Thirsty,” he said hoarsely. He slid his tongue over his dry, cracked lips, craving the soothing balm of water.

“Aye, but just a bit. I’ll not have you retching all over my floor,” the angel said.

She tucked her arm underneath his neck and lifted his head. It shamed him that he was as weak as a newborn kitten. He’d have never been able to hold himself up if it weren’t for her firm grip.

The rim of a goblet pressed to his lips, and he drank greedily, nearly inhaling the cool water. It was a shock to his system, so cold and refreshing, that a shiver stole over his body. The contrast was nearly painful. Ice to the fires that burned over his flesh.

“There,” the angel soothed. “ ’Tis enough for now. I know you suffer. I’ll make a tisane for the pain and ’twill make you sleep a little easier.”

But he didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to remain there in her arms, cradled to her bosom. ’Twas a very nice bosom. Pillowy and plump, just as a woman should be. He turned, nuzzling into her softness. He inhaled her sweet scent and felt the fires of hell recede. Peace surrounded him. Ah. He’d taken a step toward heaven surely.

“Tell me your name,” he ordered. Did angels have names?

“Keeley, warrior. My name is Keeley. Hush now. You must rest so you can regain your strength. I’ve not worked this hard for you to be arbitrary and die on me.”

Nay, he wouldn’t die. There were important things he must do, though at the moment his bruised mind couldn’t grasp exactly what it was that was so pressing.

Maybe she was right. He should rest for a while. Perhaps when he next awakened, he’d know the right of things.

He inhaled deeply again and let himself go limp. He was vaguely aware of his angel lowering his head. He inhaled one last time, absorbing her scent. It was like drinking the sweetest of wines. A warm, soothing buzz flowed through his veins and lulled him.

He stopped fighting. His angel wouldn’t allow him to die.

“Nay, warrior. I won’t allow you to die.”

Soft lips brushed over his brow, lingering at his temple. He turned his face, wanting her mouth on his own. He thought he might die if she didn’t kiss him again.

There was hesitation, what felt to him like an eternity, before finally, her mouth touched his. Just a simple, innocent gesture that a child might bestow.

He growled low in his throat. Damn if he wanted a simple peck.

“Kiss me, angel.”