Read Online Angel at Dawn by Emma Holly - Free Book Online

question. You’ll stay through the whole damn thing.”
    “Of course. I’m sure Miss Wei would want me to . . . oversee your makeover.”
    Christian snorted and looked out the front window. He was not a Chatty Charlie, that was for sure. They drove in silence, the light traffic whooshing by them on either side. The towering palms that lined the highway stood silvered by moonlight. Determined not to miss their exit, Grace began watching the signs for West Hollywood. Her skin was all over goose bumps with her awareness of the man beside her. To make matters worse, Christian kept stealing looks at her and frowning, as if unsatisfied with her profile.
    “You grip that wheel any tighter, Grace, and your fingers are going to snap.”
    She didn’t see him move, but suddenly his big hand was on top of hers on the steering wheel. She jumped so badly the car swerved out of their lane.
    “Please , ” she gasped once her lungs recovered. “Don’t touch me while I’m driving.”
    Christian pulled his hand back and stared at her. “Fine. I won’t touch you while you’re driving. I was only trying to calm you down.”
    “Well, you didn’t.” Grace knew she sounded as truculent as he did, but she couldn’t help herself. She tucked her perfectly brushed hair behind her ear. “I’d also appreciate it if you’d stop staring at me like I’ve grown horns.”
    Christian jerked away and muttered something she probably didn’t want to hear. When she snuck a look at him, his jaw was clenched, his eyes gone narrow on the road ahead. Grace blew out a breath and told her nerves to settle.
    “Welcome to LA,” his man Roy laughed softly from the backseat.
     
     
    C hristian’s temper was still simmering as Grace pulled up to the small bungalow. Heavy greenery surrounded it, and its windows looked well curtained, but Nim Wei’s consideration wasn’t counting for much right then. The queen had spelled Grace so well he couldn’t calm her with his touch, which—despite what Grace apparently believed—was all he had meant to do.
    That he’d made the attempt very close to midnight, when his powers were at their height, told him he still couldn’t outmatch his maker when it came to her thralls.
    Seeing Grace didn’t intend to get out or even turn off the engine, Christian schooled his face to its usual coolness and went to help Roy retrieve their bags. Despite his desire not to repeat previous mistakes, he couldn’t quite stop himself from pausing outside her door. She cranked down her window and looked up at him warily. He could see her better than a human would have in full daylight: the hectic flush on her cheekbones, the tremor she tried to hide by rolling her soft lips between her teeth. The only way to restrain his craving to lay his palm on her face was to curl his hand into a tight fist.
    This urge to be kind to his betrayer was a pattern he was damn well going to break.
    “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” she said. “Around three thirty.”
    “Fine,” he agreed, though inside he was groaning at the idea. He was out of practice for waking that early. He almost turned to go, but one more impulse took hold of him. Her elbow was braced on the open window, and his hand found its way right beside that warmth. “You’ll be all right tonight? Driving home?”
    “Of course I will. I’m used to keeping Miss Wei’s hours.”
    She’d already given him the key to the bungalow. Fingering it in his pocket, Christian stepped away from the car.
    “Good night,” Grace said. “Good night, Mr. Blunt.”
    Roy lifted his hand as she reversed neatly out of the drive.
    “Sure is a good-looking gal,” he observed. “And polite. Not that you got a close acquaintance with the niceties.”
    “You have something you want to say, Roy?”
    “Only that she has you twisted six ways to Sunday.”
    “Get bent,” Christian said—rather mildly, by his standards.
    Roy chuckled and hefted a pair of bags. “Well,” he said. “You gonna