For the umpteenth time, Lucen Bright wished he hadn’t been assigned this particular angel to mentor. Angela’s long red hair twisted in a titian rope down her back. Her pale green eyes flashed with fire when she was angry, and she was often angry. Especially whenever he had to try to break the link to her mortal that she gripped so tightly.
She’d been an angel all year.
And he’d been fighting the urge to kiss her for half of one.
“Look.” An eagle soared in the sky high above. Like they could, if she’d only leave Tom behind and acknowledge the attraction that blazed every time their eyes met. “Want to fly?”
“No.” She plucked a tall daisy from the grass, and peeled back the stalk into long strips. “I don’t want to leave him.” Her voice was hushed. Haunted by regret, shadowed by pain.
There was nothing for it. He’d tried to tell her how it was. How the task of moving on was difficult, not only for those who were left behind, but for those who had been forcibly ripped from the fabric of life. She was so stubborn, nothing he said made any difference. But if she stayed in Tom’s bed, the shock of sharing it with the petite blonde he’d been dating for the past couple of weeks would traumatize her forever.
Maybe it was time to make her face facts. Accept that heaven was right in front of her if she cared to look.
Lucen leaned close, breathed against her mouth, and watched her eyes darken.
A breath puffed out in a shocked exhale. “Lucen.”
Before she could say anything else, he claimed her lips with a kiss.
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