Apollo, p.22
Apollo, page 22
Dee scoffed. “What plans? It’s just you and me. I figured we could go look around at the dresses. I need to find a sexy one for Jake.”
“Oh, do they make them in his size now?” Tatiana sat back in her chair and tilted her head to one side. She continued with a wide-eyed look and a super sweet, innocent tone, “What colors does he like? Maybe we could find one on clearance and how about stockings or pantyhose… which one does he like better, because you know he does have those hairy man legs. And shoes—what size does he wear? Does he like a tall heel or a short one? We can’t have him walking around with us, falling all over the place. That would be too embarrassing and then we wouldn’t be able to hang out with him anymore.”
“Tiana, stop.” Dee was bent from the waist, laughing hysterically. “Now I’m never going to be able to get the image out of my head of Jake wearing a dress.” Dee held onto the edge of a table and took in several deep breaths, whooshing out each exhale as if she was participating in a Lamaze class.
Tatiana chuckled. “It should be great fun when you both are… you know.” She finished off her sentence with a wink.
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen anytime soon. But enough about me and my woes. Is Matt coming tonight?”
“Matt?” Tatiana looked confused. “Why? Did he say he wanted to come with us?”
“Girl, he wants to go everywhere with you. He’s stuck on you, you know, and if you’d let him, he’d be stuck onto you physically,” Dee whooped. “I’m surprised he’s not hanging out in your office right now with his goofy puppy dog eyes watching your every move.”
“Goofy puppy dog eyes?” Tatiana smirked.
“Yeah, goofy, goofy.” Deanna hung her top teeth over her bottom lip and scrunched up her upper lip.
Tatiana laughed aloud. “Oh, God, you are too much, Dee. He’s not all that bad you know, but no, I don’t want to go shopping with him.” She glanced off to one side before she looked back at Dee. “Besides, I’m not interested.”
“You sure? He pines after you like a love-sick puppy dog. I think you could get him to do just about anything if you just flirt with him.” Dee perked up and spoke excitedly, “Hey, maybe you can get him to buy some dresses for us!”
“I am not using him to buy dresses! Besides, that would just give him the wrong idea and I—” She stumbled over the next few words, “I… don’t… think he’s right… for… me.”
“Oh, you said that with a lot of confidence.”
“Dee,” Tatiana continued with a somber tone of voice, “I think he’s nice, but I’m just not sure if I want to settle for him… yet.”
Dee smiled. “Don’t get all serious and uptight. You know I’m just teasing you.” She paused by the door, turned back to Tatiana and said, “You know, you could model some low-cut dresses for him, and he could rate them. That’s if he could get his eyes off your knockers.”
Tatiana’s jaw dropped. “Dee!” She quickly balled up a piece of paper and threw it at her, but Dee had already disappeared down the hallway, laughing hysterically as she ran away.
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CENTURION: BOOK TWO
Centurion thinks he has it all—until the one subject plaguing him and affecting his colleagues, in strange, undesirable ways, stands in front of him.
As second-in-command of the prestigious volunteer band of angels called The Guardian League, co-guardian to a talented charge in New Orleans, Louisiana, and hosting a wealth of swooning ladies available at his every whim, nothing in his life was missing.
Yet one day, at an art exhibition, he encounters April—a woman as strong and hot as the human beverage that tickles his fancy. A beautiful, lush female that stokes the fire deep within him he never knew existed and makes him question his self-imposed rules regarding human-angel relationships. He doesn’t know what to do. Yet, he knows he can’t lose her.
Overwhelmed by his sudden introduction, April never thought she would find a buff, strong angel standing in front of her, much less, asking her for a date. Yet, Centurion goes by his own set of rules, and he doesn’t want permanency. He wants April—on his own terms and at his beck and call. April can’t agree.
Still, there is something about Centurion that draws her to the cocky, devilishly handsome but mostly incorrigible male and it’s not just his good looks, his killer kisses, or his suave finesse. There is something more.
Will she stick around to find out what it is? Will they form a compromise and allow love to bind them together? Or will Centurion’s carefree lifestyle wedge them apart—forever?
CHAPTER ONE
Second-in-command wasn’t easy. It was hard work and stressful, especially when you were in charge of an entire army of strong-willed men. The typical concept of angels that humans held in their minds and decorated their homes with, during holidays and special events, was also not true. Angels weren’t always what humans envisioned—sweet, innocent, supernatural beings with halos wrapped around the back of their heads.
Hogwash.
The group Centurion managed was a bunch of varied personalities that, for the most part, got along with each other; however, when they didn’t, that’s when Centurion stepped in. Humans considered angels all the same—loving, innocent, agreeable beings, identical in nature to the point each might have been a twin of another, the only differentiation being of the male or female persuasion. How comical and far from the truth. There was no assembly line or cookie-cutter factory in Heaven that produced angels. Each angel was different, unique, and complex, with his or her own set of ideas and concepts. However, they were all identical, in certain ways, especially when it came to the rules that must be followed. These rules were created, set, and adhered to by every angel. They were of the highest order, and they established the general beliefs of each angel, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Centurion lifted his arms overhead and unfurled his wings. He was proud to be a leader, especially when many of his cohorts doubted his abilities. He grew tired of hearing the same rebuttal every time he volunteered for a task.
“Centurion? Oh no… maybe we can get someone else.”
After all these years, the pain of rejection still weighed heavily in his gut. He was young—yes—but there was nothing wrong with him. Centurion was a natural, born leader, regardless of what anyone said. He was capable of handling any task. If it weren’t for Aeron, he would have been the commander of The Guardian League.
Centurion tuned in to his charge, Ian, in the nick of time. Ian was heading out this morning and so was Centurion, eager to accompany him and partake in the cultural activity of the day. He loved his charge, and he held a positive regard for all of humanity. Yet that was the extent of his emotions toward humans.
Being an angel gave him a great sense of pride. The concept of having been created into a human, instead, turned his stomach and flip-flopped his heart. He witnessed the loneliness, the sadness, and the grief Ian dealt with throughout his years on Earth, as well as him being bullied, attacked, and teased. What he endured did not look like fun. Regardless, Ian was strong now. He was able to withstand a lot more adversity, and Centurion was proud of him.
When it came to romantic relationships; however, Centurion preferred his own kind. Several of his colleagues fell for humans but he had no desire to do the same and follow in their footsteps, so to speak. He cringed at the thought. No sireee. He was very happy being single, charismatic, and sometimes when he wanted to shock someone in particular, a charming angel. He chuckled to himself. The fact that he wasn’t in a relationship anymore didn’t bother him for there were plenty of females he could choose from. It was only a matter of time before another fell for him and he’d woo and court the lucky gal, at that time. In all the centuries he lived, he never had a problem in the romance department and, for this too, he was grateful.
He sensed movement. His charge was getting ready to leave. Well, so should he. Centurion lowered his head and concentrated on his armor. It disappeared, replaced by a polo shirt, pants, and loafers. He glanced down, pleased with his appearance, and whistled low.
“My, my, my, if the girls saw you now, Centurion.” His eyes darted around just in case he found some wandering waif in need of love or romance, yet he found himself alone—at the moment. He pulled his long, light brown hair back, secured it with a black hair tie, and sighed. “There’ll be someone for you. Don’t worry,” he murmured to himself in reassurance. Then, he spread his wings and descended toward Earth. It was time to go to work.
Centurion smiled when several ladies, close by, screeched and kicked up their heels, aiming for a nearby sidewalk. His entrances were always dramatic and purposeful. The “whirlwind” turbulence he caused every time he visited Earth was his “calling card” per se. It made him stand out, plus, he loved stirring up the humans. It was thrilling to see them scatter and it always gave him a good chuckle.
A large, dome shaped building with a grey, metal roof, loomed before him. He sensed Ian was already inside. He hurried toward the building, handing the ticket taker, air, which he processed as a paid ticket. Centurion slowed down as he walked through the double doors, sauntering into Salon A where the event was already underway. Just inside the entrance, he stopped and glanced around at the hundreds of booths crowding the room. What a celebration of life and creative talent. Ian, a twenty-three-year-old published sketch artist, was one of them and among his own kind here. Art was a gift, a tribute to his master, and Centurion couldn’t be happier than he was now.
He strolled up and down, keeping a watchful eye out for his charge who stood several aisles away, chatting with a female. Centurion stopped every so often to chit-chat with a few vendors or admire their pieces, enamored with the amount of talent present. He meandered his way around a corner, his eyes darting back and forth following several creative displays when he lifted to peek at a table in front of him and saw her.
The vision before him was almost… indescribable. She was… incredible. No. He shook his head. That wasn’t the word he sought. This woman—this beauty, was smoldering and vibrant. Her presence automatically awakened his senses and kicked up his heartbeat into high gear. He’d never found a rare, delicate… oh no, where was she going?
The ravishing creature moved back-and-forth behind two elongated tables, chatting animatedly with several customers. She engaged them with humorous quips and showered them with genuine compliments when they tried on her pieces. To say she was simply attractive was utter rubbish. It was an understatement and a lie. This female was impeccable and… human. This last part was unexpected.
He drew in a sharp intake of breath and concentrated on moving forward, one foot at a time, yet his shoes seemed superglued to the concrete. Centurion commanded strong personalities. He had run up against every type of evil imaginable, and consoled and sorted out the salvageable in the aftermath of hatred. He was able to face any foe or enemy with confidence and strength. Yet, for the first time in his life, Centurion was paralyzed with fear.
He snuck a quick peek at her again and froze. What would he say to her—this beautiful, angelic female? All topics for small talk seemed to have suddenly disappeared from his brain. There was nothing he could tell her she hadn’t heard before nor anything interesting to pique her curiosity. But engage and delight this sensuous goddess in conversation was all he wanted to do. She was mesmerizing, beautiful in every way and Centurion found himself paralyzed and dumbstruck.
“Oomph.” He reared after being struck in the arm by a passerby. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it forced his focus back to his current whereabouts.
His charge! Where was his charge? For the first time ever, he’d forgotten about Ian—the reason for his temporary amnesia was standing three booths away with long, curvy legs and beautiful blonde hair. He blew out a sigh of relief as he located his “little one.” Thank goodness. He’d never hear the end of it if anything happened to him. Now, back to his point of interest. How would he approach the stunning female? What quips could he regale her with to amuse her? He craved her attention, but would she reward him in return, or laugh at his efforts? If she performed the latter, he’d be crushed.
Wait… Why was he worried about a mere human’s reaction? She—whoever she was— shouldn’t have affected him. What was it about this particular female that flustered him and lowered his confidence level? He had never worried about women before much less human females. He never had to. Still, she was different. How? Why? He didn’t know. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew for humans, first impressions held a lot of weight. It determined if a person was interested in continuing the interaction or not. Gaining her attention was too precious an opportunity to pass up. Regardless, he didn’t want to blow it.
The delectable beauty doubled over and laughed. A musical, angelic choir poured out from her lovely mouth. Her genuine smile vibrated and warmed through the lonely crevices of his heart. Centurion picked up his jaw and cracked his knuckles, a renewed sense of determination surging forward and thrumming through his veins. He was going to meet this female if it was the last thing he did.
Whew. What a day. The artists’ convention had started only two hours ago, and April was already overwhelmed with the number of customers gathering around her table. In hindsight, she should’ve asked Patrice to come with her because monitoring her tables, assisting customers, and cashing out others were all too much for one person to do. Still, she was happy with the sales, and she always enjoyed meeting people, especially ones who loved her work. She handed out business cards with a smile that wore down with each passing hour. She placed a hand on either side of her cheek and opened her mouth wide, moving her lips right to left and back again to stretch her underused muscles. Oh, if only it was three o’clock already.
“Hello,” she greeted the white-haired female approaching her table. “Can I help you with anything?”
The lady waved her right hand, dismissively, in front of her. “Oh no, just looking, thanks.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything, okay. Here, take my card.” She handed a slim, rectangle-shaped piece of paper to the woman who thanked her and continued her perusal.
April fanned out a necklace on a dark-colored display when she spotted a handsome man to her left. No, scratch that, he wasn’t handsome, he was gorgeous. No, that wasn’t the right word either. He was dressed in casual wear, but his demeanor and his stance didn’t match his appearance. Broad-shouldered, his golden-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his arms… wow… they seemed firm and strong, she assumed, from the underlying hint of rippling bulges which caught her eye.
“Hello.” She slid in front of him, anticipating a better view.
He popped his head up. His wide smile curved a bit longer on one side in a playful, mischievous manner which sent pleasant tingles through her stomach and down below.
“Good morning. This is a beautiful necklace, though all of your jewelry is pretty. You do excellent work.” He held up the sparkly item in his hand.
“Why, thank you. It’s actually one of my favorites. It deserves a wonderful home and a special woman to give it to. Do you have either?” Oh, that was smooth… She wanted to roll her eyes with her last couple of words. Geez. What a way to try to find out if he was single and seem desperate at the same time. Well… it had been a while.
He cupped his chin and rubbed his fingers across it as if in contemplation. She waited, fearing the worst. He could shoot her down at any minute. Yet, it might prove the better option rather than dealing with the torment of anticipation. She’d been through rejection before and awful, messy breakups. What was a little embarrassment going to do to her? Still, this Adonis of a man was handsome and mesmerizing, and she was, well—plain—at least, that’s how her last boyfriend described her just before he walked out the door and into the arms of her best friend. What would this guy—who was one hundred times better looking than her ex—say? Right now, though, she wanted to apologize for her boldness and run out the door, far away from the convention center.
She glanced at the ladies to her right who all stared at the handsome man in front of her. Some slowly raked their gaze over him while others made questionable gestures with their mouths. A few walked by him while mouthing words toward April with a thumbs-up of encouragement. She found the reaction of the women comical. This poor guy was probably taken or not even interested. Yes, April was tall and thin. She had long blonde hair, natural too. She supposed she was the poster child for “every man’s fantasy,” according to several jealous, insecure co-workers from her past, but she tended to be a realist and until men started throwing themselves at her feet and buying her expensive items, she was going to keep working and relying on herself. She didn’t need a man. She never did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want one in her life. One who respected her for who she was, not just for her height and her build. She was blonde, yes, but she had a brain too and she wanted a man to respect that, honor her, and allow her freedom.
She smiled at the small crowd of women gathered to one side of the table. Well, this show was all about appreciating beautiful, fine objects and the male in front of her was exquisite. All he needed was a price tag slapped on his bottom and women everywhere would start a bidding war. April would step aside, though. Fighting over any man, especially one she just met was not her style. She didn’t like “players” or men who knew they were good-looking. They strayed, did things for show, and were typically hollow on the inside. No, her man… probably didn’t exist. She wanted a male with rare qualities not found in the testosterone-powered world. It was true—all the good ones were taken and so was hers.
“Let me know if you have any questions,” she teased the ladies still ogling the male.
A loud noise jolted her back to reality. She jerked her head back to find the male clearing his throat.
