His silver eyes zeroed in on her, made her want to squirm in discomfort. A flash of what almost looked like hurt flickered in his gaze. She repressed a snort. Right. She'd have to matter to him to hurt his feelings, and she knew she never had.

That was how they'd ended up in this mess. In life, they'd been soul mates, destined for one another, even though they were wary and untrusting, on opposite sides of a war. Then she'd risked everything to warn him about a surprise raid Enrique had planned…only to find her beloved in bed with another woman.

A stray shot fired during the raid had taken her life, but she'd already been shattered beyond repair.

She hadn't known it then, but their own Guardians had failed them, and when Tori and Jericho had died because of that failure, they'd been recruited to replace their angels. That was how it worked. Failure meant another angel replaced you. Failure resulting in the death of a client meant the client replaced you. It was just Tori and Jericho's misfortune that both of them had died that day. And it was just Tori's luck that a man she never wanted to see again, a man who should have croaked at a ripe old age before the turn of the last century, had followed her into unwilling immortality.

Fuck.

CHAPTER 3

Tori grabbed her bag, tossed more than enough cash to cover their meal onto the table, shot out of her seat, and ran like hell. She couldn't do this. She could not do this.

He caught her on the street, of course. Jericho had never been one to let anything go. His fingers wrapped tight around her upper arm, pulling her to a stop and forcing her to face him. She kept her gaze pinned to his chest, grating out as few words as possible. «I need to go home.»

She felt his gaze move over her, studying her-her face, her eyes, her breasts beneath the serviceable top she wore, her white-knuckled grip on the handle of her purse. «Fine. I'll walk you.»

Shifting his inexorable grip, he steered her toward the small bed and breakfast inn she owned-or, at least, the angelic woo-woo of her cover identity meant people thought she owned it and had owned it for years and years. Thankfully, it was close to the town square, which the diner faced. They didn't have far to go. Still, she was painfully aware of his hand on her skin as they walked through the square. She hated herself for being unable to squelch her reaction. She wanted to run screaming, she wanted to tackle him to the ground and do filthy things to his body. She wanted to beat him to a pulp for hurting her and ruining her one chance at happiness. She did none of those things-the town gossip didn't make gossip for other people to spread around.

His hand on her elbow would look like nothing more than polite and solicitous assistance to an elderly lady, but the rough calluses on his fingertips rubbed in slow circles against her arm. Goose bumps raced over her limbs again and she shivered, her nipples tightening to painful points. She hadn't been this turned on in over a century. Not since the last time he'd touched her.

She turned her head to meet his gaze squarely, unflinching. «While we walk, let's discuss Mason and Celia. Then I'd like us to have as little contact as possible until this is over.»

Again, she felt him study her, but she refused to be discomfited by him. He faced forward. «We should definitely talk about the assignment.»

«Okay. Good.» Relief that he didn't push the subject of their interactions, past or future, made the air squeeze out of her lungs.

«You've done a great job of steering Mason in the right direction, but it's obvious to anyone-including Celia-he's just looking to score. And get rid of what has to be a serious case of blue balls.»

She choked, and a laugh exploded out of her. Wrapping her arm around herself, she tried to hold in the shrieks of laughter and not drop her purse. Hilarity made her voice shake. «I cannot believe you said that.»

A rich chuckle answered her, and she watched the lines crinkle around his eyes as his white teeth flashed in a wide smile. «The truth hurts.»

«Much like blue balls.»

His broad shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. «It's hard on a guy.»

«So I've heard.» She snorted on another chuckle. «I'll take your word on it.»

«They both have trust issues. They're wary. It's understandable, given their pasts.» His dark brows drew together, his focus turning inward for a moment. Then he sighed and his lips quirked in a small grin. «Which is pretty much the same old story for what we do.»

God, she loved his smile. She always had. He was freer with it now than he had been, which was good for him, and bad for her control. She'd always been a sucker for a man who could make her laugh. She slammed the brakes on that alarming and dangerous line of thought.

Jericho's breath caught. She shot a sharp glance at him in time to see him jerk his chin aside to stare at a tree as they passed another couple. She arched her eyebrows, but immediately recognized the chief of police and his wife, Aubrey. She smiled and nodded as they walked by, but the two were absorbed in each other and barely spared her a glance before they disappeared around a bend in the path.

«Your most recent conquest. Nicely done, by the way.» Her eyebrows lifted higher. «You're in a different disguise, Jericho. They won't recognize you.»

He grunted. «It's the eyes. No matter how many faces I wear, I've never gotten the eyes to change color.»

«And it's a distinctive color. That is a problem.»

«Not usually.» He shrugged. «I move around with my assignments, so I'm not in one place long enough for anyone to notice.»

True enough. Travel was the name of their game. «But you finished up with them, and there was a local project that fell in your lap.»

«Something like that.» Suddenly his eyes narrowed, flattening to a cold pewter. «You knew I was in town and you avoided me.»

Damn. Caught. She hurried her steps, heaving a sigh of intense relief as the inn came into view. She kept her voice light, her tone dismissive. «I gave you a hand. Not that the chief needed any urging, but when he asked about Aubrey's dating habits, I filled him in, encouraged him a little. I am the town gossip, you know. Information sharing is what I do. I also used the dachshund I was dog sitting for a friend to trip her up and get her carried into his house for their first date. You're welcome.»

«You avoided me.» The words shot from his mouth like bullets, and she felt his muscular body tense. He dragged her to a stop in front of the B&B.

«I had my own assignment to deal with. There was no need to interact with you, no need to draw attention to ourselves.» She set her jaw at a stubborn angle, daring him to refute her. His gaze heated with the challenge, and she almost groaned. Challenging Jericho was a mistake and she knew it. That was how she'd ended up flat on her back the night they'd met.

«Yes, there's no need to draw attention to ourselves. We shouldn't make a scene.» His hand lifted, and he stroked a single fingertip across her cheekbone, trailed it to her jaw, and down her throat, where she knew he could feel her pulse pounding. His movements were slow, giving her the chance to pull away. She didn't. God, she craved him. She always had, and it stabbed at her heart to realize she always would.

She swayed toward him, her brain short-circuiting as an image of them in the privacy of her bedroom, in her bed, formed and refused to leave.

«It's not working, acting as if this is about our job. I want you too much to pretend I haven't been hard since the moment you walked into the restaurant tonight. You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.» His voice dropped to a low, silken purr that stroked over her nerves, exciting her, soothing her.

Her eyes closed as his words washed over her, undermining all of her righteous bitterness. Whether she liked it or not, she reacted to this man. No one could make her angrier, faster. No one could make her hornier, faster. This many months of celibacy only made it that much harder to resist the magnetic pull he had on her by just standing there and breathing. When he said things like that to her, used that tone of voice, it made fire flood her.

Swallowing, she glanced away and squeezed her thighs together to quell the ache between them. It was a wasted effort. «We're in public, Jericho. Don't forget when people look at us, they see an old lady and a gay man.»

«Then let's go somewhere private because within the next five minutes you're going to be under me, whether we're in public or not.» That stroking finger moved over her lips before curving under her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze, the steely, relentless determination that shone there. «I want you stripped and spread for me. I want my tongue in your mouth while you scream and sigh and moan. I want your nails digging into my back when I slide into that tight, wet little pussy of yours. I want to fuck you until neither of us can stand. And then I'm really going to get started on you.»

She wanted that. All of that. So much that every other thought fled, her hormones rioted, her body overruling her mind.

They made it to the small guesthouse behind the inn that she used for her home before he had his hands all over her, but it was a close call. The door hadn't even swung shut before his mouth covered hers and his tongue thrust between her lips.

A moan ripped from her throat. He tasted the same-like honey and hot, wicked man. Like heaven on earth. Like Jericho. She twisted her fingers in his silky hair, holding him in place while she tangled her tongue with his. Her body burned, ached with emptiness, wetness flooding her core until she thought she might cry if he didn't fill her soon. She rocked herself against him in shameless abandon, her nails digging into his scalp as she sought to communicate her need. He groaned, but didn't slow down.