Beautiful did not describe him. The features she'd admired when she was Death she now saw as stunning. Chiseled to perfection, covered in olive-hued skin, with a low brow, piercing gaze and strong jaw …His nearness made her feel hot.
"I'll assume that's a yes," he said with a faint smile. He reached out to tilt her chin to the side to see her neck. Warm energy fluttered through her. His large hand was unexpectedly gentle as it settled on her neck over where the demon bit her. She'd never let him touch her like that before, but she found his touch calming.
Fascinated by the texture of his palm, she took and held his hand up until she was able to see the roughness of his calloused palm. She traced her fingertips over his wide palm. It was almost twice the size of hers.
He lowered his hand, resting it possessively on her upper thigh. Desire stirred within her, along with some confusion. He'd never touched her without permission. He seemed at ease with himself, another thing she didn't remember about him.
"Don't take this the wrong way," he started, studying her. "Who the fuck are you?"
Her jaw dropped.
"It's okay. Whatever happened … There's nothing to stress about," he added when she was silent. "But you're not exactly the same woman I saw here last night."
Deidre's careful story didn't even make it to her tongue. She simply gazed at him. He definitely never would've spoken to her like this, as if …
…as if he was Death and she was not. She never stopped to consider what it would be like if he became the person she had been. If their roles were completely reversed. In her mind, she saw only them being happy, finally, after an eternity of struggling to understand one another. She once thought the problem was him, because he was of human origin. Many years ago, she figured out the opposite was true: they had issues, because she wasn't human.
Changing that, then, was the only thing that lay between her and her love.
Except, something still wasn't right. What?
Deidre pushed herself up carefully, unable to take her eyes off of Gabriel. His hand fell from her leg, breaking her trance enough that she looked away. She pulled her knees to her chest and leaned against the backboard.
He was waiting. The Gabriel she remembered would've dropped it and left. This Gabriel wasn't going anywhere.
"I am me," she said at last.
He raised an eyebrow. Her face felt warm. She wasn't certain why.
"I made a deal with Darkyn." She paused, trying to figure out what to tell him.