Revelation: Trinity Part 1 Page 14

  “I can’t do this,” he said, his voice strained.

  Rose followed as he paced over to his desk. She made to speak, but he whirled round and beat her to it, frustration and disappointment in his eyes.

  “I can’t be what you want me to be.” His tone was final, and Rose stopped, caught off guard, before her shoulders dropped in defeat.

  “You already are,” she said, simply.

  Christian met her gaze, and she saw surprise light his eyes, before the sadness was back.

  “You don’t understand.” He looked away. “I’m not made for this. I was never meant to feel, never meant to want –” he cut off, running a hand over his face before leaning back against the desk, his eyes raised up to the heavens.

  “But you do.” Rose stepped towards him, praying that he wouldn’t deny it. “You always have,” she added, tentatively.

  He dropped his head, returning her apprehensive gaze for what seemed like a lifetime, before he exhaled in a rush of frustration.

  “That doesn’t mean I should,” he said, his eyes sad.

  “So that’s it?” Rose asked, helplessly. “You shouldn’t, so you won’t?” Christian said nothing as she stood in front of him, reaching out to touch his face, feeling his jaw work beneath the tips of her fingers.

  He didn’t move, although his gaze had followed the path of her hands before meeting hers, watching in tense anticipation. Finally he seemed to falter in his resolve, his head lowering until his forehead rested against hers in defeat. Drawing courage from the tremors she felt as he fought to hold his arms in place against the desk, she tenderly stroked the line of his jaw.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She closed her eyes, and placed her lips to his.

  ***

  Christian pulled back, breaking the contact as quickly as Rose made it. He swallowed, hard, against the ache to reach out and touch her – every part of his body begging for him to give in and damn the consequences.

  The rational part of him knew that he should step away. It demanded that he tell her no, that he didn’t feel the same, that he couldn’t love her like she wanted.

  But he could, he realised in a powerful moment of clarity. He already did.

  He exhaled a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding as his decision was made – had been made all along.

  He surrendered, reaching out and capturing her face between his hands, feeling the gasp of her breath as his lips claimed hers, his heightened senses making him acutely aware of the desire surging through her at his touch. Her hands reached up to his shoulders, pulling him tighter against her, and he locked his arms around her waist, his tongue tracing the line of her bottom lip, invading her mouth as she stretched up onto her toes to meet him.

  Rose kissed him with a passion that took his breath away – and he kissed her just as urgently; feeling as if the whole world was slipping away, time seeming to stand still around them. Because anything that wasn't Rose’s mouth, her tongue, her taste just didn't matter anymore.

  His hands slid around to the small of her back, pushing under her shirt, desperate to touch every part of her now that he had the chance. Her fingers tangled into his hair as her kisses came faster, but it wasn’t enough – he needed to be closer, needed more of her. He skimmed his hands down to the back of her thighs, lifting her up in one, quick movement. Rose wrapped her legs around his waist obligingly, gasping against his mouth at the new contact.

  He turned, bracing against the edge of the desk as he pushed her down amongst the papers, sweeping books and stationary to the floor as he kissed a trail down to her shoulder. She arched her back, seeking contact as he returned his mouth to hers, unable to stray too far for very long.

  She lifted the hem of his tee-shirt, and he pulled back enough to let her tug it over his head, breaking their kiss only when he had to. Her hands trailed an appreciative path up his chest, setting his skin alight, turning his kiss desperate.

  He groaned her name as her nails dug into the muscles of his shoulder, his overwhelming response to such a simple act dragging him back to reality like a bucket of ice-water.

  He broke the contact of their lips and staggered back, chest heaving.

  ***

  Christian backed up until he hit the bookshelves, his eyes dark with desire. He remained there, watching her, until his breathing slowed.

  Rose sat on the edge of the desk, trying to catch her breath as she waited, terrified that they’d gone too far – that he would deny her, and tell her it was a mistake.

  Because Rose had never been kissed with so much passion, never wanted to kiss back with such desperate need. She was greedy for more, addicted to the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her body. If he walked away now, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

  Christian, having regained his control, exhaled hard before stepping back towards her. He offered her his hand, and she accepted tentatively, letting him help her off the desk. He didn’t let go as his eyes met hers in thoughtful consideration. Rose pressed a hand to the solid planes of his chest, enjoying the contact of his skin as she waited for him to speak.

  “In all the times I’ve imagined that happening,” he said, as his eyes warmed and he broke into a rueful smile. “I never dreamed that you would be the one to kiss me.”

  Rose smiled in relief as he rested his forehead against hers, his fingers trailed a line along the sensitive skin behind her ear. “And you said you weren’t old fashioned,” she teased.

  He chuckled wryly, and bent to kiss her again. Rose met him half way, stretching up onto her toes as she leaned into him. He pulled back too soon, and bent to retrieve his tee-shirt, tugging it over his head as he surveyed the mess of books and papers.

  “I could do with some air,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. Rose grinned and his smile increased. “Walk with me?”

  She nodded shyly and he held out his hand. Rose took it, and his fingers curled tightly around her own, as if he’d never let them go.

  ***

  Rose was wrapped in Christian’s arms, kissing him goodnight after their walk along the river, when a knock at her door interrupted them. The handle turned without consent, and Ben appeared, pausing in shock as he took in the scene before him.

  Christian immediately tried to untangle himself, but Rose held on tight, eventually letting go and allowing him to take a step back. She grinned wickedly in response to his exasperated look, before turning to Ben, who had frozen in place, a stunned expression on his features.

  “Hi,” she said, taking in his unusually dishevelled appearance. He didn’t respond, turning, wide eyed, to face Christian.

  “Ben?” she asked, concern eventually winning over her frustration at being interrupted. “Everything okay?” She considered his absence over the last few days and frowned.

  Ben came to his senses then, flashing a bemused grin. “Seriously?” he asked, “five minutes of knowing who he is and this happens?”

  “What are you talking about?” Rose asked.

  Ben turned to Christian and held out his hand. “Benedict Eldon,” he introduced. “Although, I guess you already know that.”

  Christian shook his hand, shooting Rose a confused look.

  Rose, however, suddenly understood. “What did Ana tell you, Ben?” she asked, sighing in resignation.

  Ben grinned ruefully, his eyes betraying his wariness of Christian as they flickered towards him. “Not enough.”

  Christian pursed his lips in annoyance. “Excuse me,” he said. “I need to have a word with Miss Goodwin.”

  Ben hastily stepped in front of him, barring the way to Ana’s door. “Uh, I wouldn’t just yet.”

  Rose watched the blush spread across his cheeks, and his dishevelled appearance suddenly made sense. Christian hid a smile, coming to the same conclusion, and they shared a conspiratorial glance.

  Rose sighed and stepped away from Christian, waving Ben into her room. He went to the armchair without protest, seemingly relieved to be ou
t from under their gaze.

  Christian moved towards the door, having realised this was a conversation the friends needed to have in private, and Rose followed to let him out.

  “Let me know if you need me,” he murmured, his hand cupping her chin as he placed a gentle kiss to her lips. Rose stretched up on her toes, pulling him closer by the waist, before a pointed cough reminded them of their audience, and she pulled away.

  “Goodnight.” Christian’s eyes were tender as he held her gaze, before he turned to walk down the hallway.

  Rose watched him go before she closed the door and moved to the bed, facing the armchair, where Ben had sprawled out.

  They surveyed each other soberly for a long minute, before bursting into giggles, the absurdity of their situation too much to bear.

  13

  Ana closed the book in front of her and sat back against the bed. “Nothing,” she called out quietly.

  Rose, who had been reading through extracts online, shut the laptop in frustration. “This is stupid,” she said. “There’s nothing here.”

  “There has to be something,” Ben insisted, looking up from his own laptop. “Someone must have documented something somewhere.”

  “Wards aren’t supposed to know they even have a Guardian,” Ana said, sighing. “What if Rose is the first?”

  “Then how would we have any idea about them?” Ben turned his laptop around so the others could see the screen. “There are hundreds of websites devoted to Guardian angels, but not a single one with any information that points to why you have one.” He frowned, scrolling through the search results. “Most seem to think that we all do,” he nodded at Ana “But from what you say that’s not true.”

  “Tell me what you mum said?” Rose asked. Ana had called her mother to see if she could help shed some light on Rose’s situation. She had been happy to help – seeming pleased that Ana was finally taking an interest in her heritage – but, unfortunately, had not had much to tell.

  Ana put her book down, uncurling her legs from beneath her. “My father never said who his Ward was – only that he’d never spoken to her, or had any involvement with her.” She looked to Rose, apologetically. “She’d never heard of a Guardian being allowed to interact before.”

  “Is there any way of tracking your father down?” Rose asked. “Maybe if we can find him he can tell us more?”

  Ana bit her lip. “He’s dead,” she said finally.

  “Wait, what?” Ben asked, swivelling his chair around to face her. “Angels can die?”

  “Kind of,” Ana said, after a pause. “Most angels exist for a certain task. Once that task is complete, they are no longer needed.” She shrugged, helplessly. “So they just… Conclude. Stop existing.” She went quiet. “Dad’s Ward was quite old when he met mum,” she said, eventually. “So they didn’t get much time – before she died. I was only tiny…” she shook her head, before smiling at Rose. “At least you met Christian now,” she offered. “You’ve got your whole life yet.”

  “But,” Rose said, confused. “Christian said he’d had lots of Wards?”

  “He did?” Ana asked.

  Rose nodded. “Eighty-six.”

  Ana blinked in surprise. “Well,” she began, “Perhaps there’s a quota?” she shrugged. “Maybe my father had reached his last?” She looked sad.

  “I think that makes it worse,” she decided, after a moment. “Knowing that my parents could have had longer together, if he’d just had one more Ward…”

  Rose’s heart ached as Ben reach for Ana, wishing she’d not said anything. A trickle of heat washed down her back – Christian’s response to her melancholy – and she glanced around.

  “I’m fine,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes as the heat receded and he didn’t appear.

  Christian had been very uncooperative when it came to Rose mysterious need for a Guardian. The first time it had come up, he’d sat her down and said, very simply, that he would not tell her. Rose had questioned why, and a long conversation had followed, as he tried to explain his reasons.

  She’d been touched by his words, knowing how hard he’d considered it, how much he wanted to be honest with her – but ultimately, he said, he’d realised that her life would never be the same if she knew, and he would do anything to protect her from it.

  Rose had accepted it at first, had tried hard to put it to the back of her mind, trusting him and his reasoning. There was no denying he was in a better position to make that call, after all. But the desire was always there, a constant itch, a feeling of un-fulfilment that she just couldn’t shake.

  She’d tried to explain this to him, but he’d refused once more, and had stayed resolutely silent ever since.

  She’d begged, pleaded, and even argued with him – to no avail. So Rose had enlisted Ben and Ana to help her discover who she was. Christian was aware of this of course, and wasn’t thrilled, which had led to a lot of frustrated conversations between them – neither willing to back down.

  “That’s so creepy,” Ben shivered, hearing her mutterings. He glanced around the room, before sitting beside Ana, looping his arm over her shoulders. “Has he gone?”

  Rose grinned and nodded, watching the relief on Ben’s face with amusement. He’d still not quite got used to the idea of Christian being who he was – even now. He pulled Ana in tighter and she smiled, allowing him to kiss her before she shoved him away.

  “Busy,” she scolded, affection in her eyes.

  They’d become much closer over the couple of months, Rose had been thrilled to note. Even Nate had noticed, commenting on it, during the many conversations he’d tried to engage her in during class. Rose had just ignored him and he’d eventually stopped bothering. The time they spent in class was their only interaction, as he’d refused to stop sitting with her on the days he showed up, seemingly oblivious to her numerous hints.

  Since the night of their first kiss, Rose and Christian had become inseparable. Although they continued to keep their ongoing relationship private for the sake of Christian’s job and Rose’s credibility, Rose had spent more nights in Christian’s apartment than she had her own room – much to her surprise.

  She’d originally thought that, given his Divine status, any further physical development would have been off limits. But Christian had laughed at that, explaining that No sex before Marriage was an ancient translation error. Marriage didn’t exist in Heaven. Those that fell in love did not declare it formally, or seal it with vows and documentation.

  The mortal race, however, had needed to define it – to have a symbol that showed they were bound to another, and so the translation was set. All God had intended was that physical intimacy be kept for whom your heart belonged.

  And so they spent their days apart – lectures becoming a game of who could show the most indifference to the other – and their nights together. The only downside being that Rose was left very little time to discover why it was that she’d been blessed with a Guardian, what Divine Purpose she was supposed to fulfil.

  Christmas had been and gone with surprisingly little fanfare, and the first signs of spring were appearing, yet Rose was no closer to discovering the secret than before.

  “That’s it.” She stood up and stretched, her body aching from sitting too long in Ana’s chair. “I’m done.”

  Ben stood up, pulling Ana to her feet. “Dinner?” he suggested.

  Ana nodded, packing up.

  Rose, feeling the familiar rush of heat, smiled. “Trust you to know when food is on offer,” she said, as a pair of arms wrapped around her.

  “Jesus!” exclaimed Ben in fright, nearly dropping his laptop in the process. He sighed, embarrassed, once he’d recovered it.

  “Not quite.” Christian winced at Ben’s choice of words, before he countered with an amused grin in his direction. “We have a train to catch,” he murmured into Roses hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

  “Take me with you,” Ana whined, shooting her a pleading look. “I love goi
ng to the theatre.”

  Rose grinned as she pulled on her shoes. Christian had presented her with tickets to the Ballet as part of her Christmas present – something Rose had always wanted to do – so they were off to London for the evening.

  “Chicago,” Ben piped up, pulling on a royal blue blazer, “Cabaret.”

  “Not even close,” Ana giggled. Ben was still trying to guess her favourite film, an ongoing game since their conversation in the Grads Cafe months back. “Do you have an alphabetical list you’re working from?” She sat back on her bed, putting on her super high heels. Even then she was still shorter than Ben, who leaned over to kiss her.

  “I’ll get there,” he said, holding his hand out for her to take.

  “Have fun,” Ana told Rose mournfully over her shoulder, as Ben dragged her out the door. “I want to hear every single detail when you get back!”

  “You always make me look bad,” Ben grumbled to Christian, who laughed as the door was pulled shut behind them.

  ***

  Ben handed the menu back to the smartly dressed waiter with a smile of thanks as Ana sipped her wine, gazing about the restaurant with interest.

  Dim lighting reflected off the crimson-cushioned walls, and black-lacquer tables were generously spaced in the middle of the cosy but comfortable room. Enticing scents wafted out from the kitchen, where a narrow pane of glass had been fitted, giving guests a voyeuristic view of the many hands at work. Red banquettes lined the walls, the plush leather booths creating a slightly more private atmosphere.

  It was at one of these booths that Ben and Ana now sat, nibbling on bread and olive oil as they gazed out the window, the welcome sounds of a beautifully played grand piano filtering through the low hum of chatter from the bar.

  “This is nice,” Ana commented, pulling apart a piece of crusty white bread from the basket on the table.