Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

  Notorious Nephilim 1

  Spanked by an Angel

  Fleeing memories of her recent divorce and longing for some control over her life, Abigail Cosslin takes a two-week vacation at an exclusive resort that caters to its guests’ every desire. When she becomes involved with two of the resort’s mysterious, sexy owners, she doubles her pleasure, but what are they hiding?

  Zachary Neville and Emmett Fallon are Nephilim who’ve been imprisoned on Earth for ninety years, and unless they fall in love with a mortal woman, they’re destined to live out eternity indulging in their favorite vices with no permanent satisfaction.

  Zach and Emmett helped start Lilith’s Playground during Prohibition as a way to snub those who had a hand in their punishment, but each man longs for true love.

  When they meet and seduce Abigail, hope begins to build. But will she believe their story and accept them on such terms? Or will she be lost to them forever?

  Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 50,151 words

  SPANKED BY AN ANGEL

  Notorious Nephilim 1

  Carolyn Rosewood

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  SPANKED BY AN ANGEL

  Copyright © 2012 by Carolyn Rosewood

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-892-0

  First E-book Publication: July 2012

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Spanked by an Angel by Carolyn Rosewood from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Carolyn Rosewood’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Rosewood’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to the angels—fallen or otherwise—who walk among us here on earth.

  SPANKED BY AN ANGEL

  Notorious Nephilim 1

  CAROLYN ROSEWOOD

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  “Welcome to Lilith’s Playground. Name, please?”

  “Abigail Cosslin. From Duluth.”

  The gum-snapping girl with the diamond stud through her nose hadn’t asked where she was from. How many Abigail Cosslins could there be who’d decided to spend two weeks at a secluded resort in Fox Lake Illinois, during the middle of January?

  “You’re all set.” The girl pushed a glossy pamphlet across the counter and tapped the photos with a black fingernail. “Meals can be delivered to your room, or we have three dining halls. We have twenty-four-hour housekeeping service, so just let us know if you need extra towels or things like shampoo. Here’s the phone number to book personal massages, manis and pedis, or other spa services. You can also book anything through your TV with the remote. Instructions are here. We have free wireless in all the rooms. The password is your room number.”

  She opened the pamphlet. “On this page are the sports and what times they’re offered. The lake is frozen, so we do have ice-skating available. If you want to reserve a midnight sleigh ride, do it sooner rather than later because they fill up fast.”

  “You have that many guests this time of year?”

  The girl smiled wickedly. “We’re always full.”

  Gum-Snapper’s hand poised over a bell on the counter, reminding Abigail of her sixteenth birthday when her parents had taken her to New York City. She’d been intrigued by the uniformed bellhops at The Plaza.

  “Mr. Fallon,” said the girl, her gaze directed over Abigail’s shoulder, “I almost had to ring the bell. This is Abigail Cosslin.”

  The scent of coconut and vanilla tickled Abigail’s nose as she turned around. He wasn’t dressed in a bellhop uniform, but Abigail had no doubt he could carry her luggage. She’d never seen biceps bulge like that under a sweater.

  “Hi there. Welcome to Lilith’s Playground. I’m Emmett Fallon, one of the owners.”

  She stared at his extended hand as though she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Her gaze traveled up the muscled arm to the slight dusting of dark stubble on his chin, and into eyes so blue she wondered if the same glacier that had carved out Lake Michigan left behind those irises as well.

  “I’m Abigail.” As if he hadn’t just heard Gum-Snapper say that. Now he’d think her a prize idiot as well as a gawker.

  “Nice name. I’ll show you to your room, Abigail.”

  “Thank you.” Were they so shorthanded the owners had to help guests with their bags? She hoped not. This adventure was costing a boatload, but she’d been assured it would be worth every penny.

  He loaded her bags onto a cart then pushed it next to the desk. “Tiffany will keep an eye on them while I show you around a bit.”

  The drive from home had taken close to nine hours, and she was exhausted, but something about this man renewed her energy. Or maybe it was the tiny dimple in his chin and the sudden mental image of that stubble grazing her nipples.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice, as he led her through the lobby.

  “We recently redecorated this to restore it to the original Art Deco look.”

  “I love it. These photos are intriguing. Are they former guests?”
/>   They stopped in front of a wall boasting dozens of framed photographs. Most of the subjects were dressed in clothing from the thirties and forties, including one man who looked strikingly like Emmett, gathered with other men in a semicircle near the front doors.

  “The lady in the center photo, dressed in twenties garb, is Lilith, an ancestor of mine. This resort is named after her.”

  Abigail stared into the woman’s exotic eyes. Her gaze traveled lower to exposed cleavage and a short flapper skirt, where long, shapely legs ended in strappy pumps. The only thing missing was the foot-long cigarette holder.

  “Lilith, as in the demon who purportedly was Adam’s first wife? Or was she more like the lady depicted in Goethe’s work?”

  Emmett grinned in a way that made Abigail’s panties flood. What would it be like to look up into those ice-blue eyes while he drove his cock into her?

  “I’m impressed,” he said, without the slightest trace of mockery in his silky smooth voice.

  “Liberal arts major with a dash of ancient history and German literature thrown in.”

  “Interesting combination.” His gaze traveled over her russet hair and dark eyes, and she wondered if he was talking about her looks or her blending of classes in college.

  “Yes, well, I had some trouble deciding what to do with my four years at Winona State, so I just took everything that interested me.”

  “That’s the best way to experience college.” He gazed up at Lilith’s portrait. “I’d say she was more like the demon.”

  “Are the portraits surrounding hers also family, or are they guests?”

  “A bit of both.” He led her down a carpeted hallway where the plush weave rendered their footfalls to mere whispers. The smell of food wafted past her nose, and her stomach rumbled, the sound echoing loudly.

  “You must be hungry from that long drive.”

  Her face grew hot. “I stopped at a fast-food place off the highway late this morning.”

  “We start serving dinner in about an hour.” He waved her inside a dining room decorated like a Victorian parlor. If staring at the photos didn’t give one the impression of stepping back in time, this room certainly would. She could almost smell the violets underneath the hearty aroma of roasting meat and vegetables.

  “Let me show you where the indoor pool and spa are located. Then I’ll take you up to your room.”

  “I wonder how you have time to give every guest a personal tour,” she said, her mouth watering, though from the smell of food or his enticing scent, she wasn’t sure.

  He gave her a smoldering look that sent her heart racing. “We do pride ourselves on catering to every desire our guests have, Abigail.”

  The sounds from the kitchen faded away, and there were only Emmett’s eyes, now a darker shade of blue. Abigail watched in fascination as the air around his head seemed to electrify, setting his close-cropped hair on end as though static electricity had passed between them. The scent of vanilla intensified, making her head woozy and her knees weak. Images of naked, sweaty bodies and soft candlelight filled her head, sending shock waves of desire straight to her soaking wet pussy.

  She blinked, shaking her head a bit, breaking eye contact. What the hell was wrong with her? A nine-hour drive and an empty stomach, that’s what. Either that or she was more desperate to get laid than she’d ever imagined.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered, “but I think I’ll skip the rest of the tour for now. I’d like to lie down before dinner.”

  Emmett was still grinning, his eyes the same ice blue as they’d been before, and his hair neatly in place. Talk about an erotic hallucination.

  “Whatever you say.”

  In the elevator, she was seized with a compulsion to touch him, so she studied the design of the floor tiles to distract her from those biceps. As the doors opened, he waved her into the hallway, pushing the cart behind her.

  “You requested something quiet, so we’ve put you in a corner suite.”

  He took her card key and swiped it, then pushed open the door and ushered her inside.

  “Oh…” she gasped, twirling in a slow circle to take it all in. Deep blue and gold brocade lined the walls, opulent draperies framed the windows, and the furniture looked as though it belonged in a museum.

  “Bedroom is this way,” he said.

  Abigail was almost reluctant to follow him. His scent had rendered her unable to form a coherent thought. She trailed behind him, enjoying the view of his ass in khakis. The bedroom was as richly appointed as the sitting room, with a bed that looked big enough for at least three people. Her thoughts raced with erotic images.

  “The fireplace is gas, and the kitchenette has plates and utensils. If you need anything else, just call the front desk. I hope I’ll see you at dinner.”

  She nodded, swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, then forced herself to speak, even though her mouth had gone bone-dry. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I hate eating alone.”

  “With your looks, I doubt you do that very often.” Abigail’s eyes widened, and she nearly clamped a hand over her mouth. Where had that come from?

  Emmett laughed softly and stepped closer. The heat from his body mixed with the flush from her embarrassment until the space around her felt toasty, as if he’d lit the fireplace.

  “I daresay I doubt you eat alone much either, Abigail.”

  If he only knew…

  Emmett touched her hair, just a quick brush with his finger, but it set off that odd electrified charge to the air again. It must be the winter air. Everything was dry. Even as she formed the thought, she knew it wasn’t the dry air. The sparks came from him, along with that coconut-and-vanilla scent.

  “See you in an hour, Abigail.”

  His voice, smooth as silk, rang in her ears like the whisper of a dream long after she realized he was no longer standing in front of her. She stared at the bed, half expecting to see him draped across it naked.

  Disappointment settled over her like a shroud, followed by the voice in her head that always accompanied such fantasies. Abigail Emily Cosslin wasn’t the sort of woman who hopped into bed with the first good-looking guy who came down the pike. Oh no. She did things the right way. The proper way. She married the right man, bought the right house, and invited only the best people to parties.

  “And threw only the most expensive china at her embezzling, cheating ex-husband’s dick,” she muttered.

  No. She didn’t want to think about Malcolm. Not on this trip. These two weeks were for her and her alone. It was time to be self-absorbed and indecent for the first time in her life.

  Chapter Two

  Emmett wandered into an office behind the front desk to find Zachary Neville shuffling papers, just as he’d left him hours ago. When he perched on the edge of the desk, Zach’s coffee cup shook, and some of the liquid splashed onto the ledger.

  “Dammit.” Zach snatched it away and took a sip, wincing. “It’s cold.”

  “Of course it’s cold. You poured it twelve hours ago. Why don’t you come to dinner and meet our newest guest, Abigail?”

  Zach regarded him with eyes the color of pewter and filled with his usual impatience. “Why don’t you believe me when I say I’m bored with our guests?”

  “You won’t find this one boring.”

  Zach sighed and shuffled the papers, then pulled out a registration form. “Abigail Emily Cosslin, age twenty-nine, graduated summa cum laude from Winona State University in Winona, Minnesota, employed as a legal assistant—by her father, no less—William Bennett Cosslin, of the firm—”

  “I know her background. I read it, too, remember? She’s not like most of them.”

  “Really?” Zach arched his eyebrows and continued reading. “Divorced less than six months ago, no kids, lives in a home Daddy gave her as a wedding present.” Zach tossed the paper onto the desk. “She’s exactly like the others. They come here, use our bodies, have their fun, and leave.”

  Emmett
rose and walked over to the window, admiring the view as he’d done for the past ninety years. It hadn’t changed much except for the landscaping near the building. That came and went, but the lake and surrounding wilderness remained untouched. He hoped they’d be able to keep it this way for a while longer.

  “You’re getting morose, Zachary.”

  “I’m tired, Emmett. We started this resort as a lark. In their face, show them how bad we can be, have all the fun we can. But it’s become boring.”

  Emmett turned around, resisting the urge to laugh. “Sex is boring?”

  “No. It’s their attitudes. They treat us like nothing more than bodies.”

  “Well, we have worked quite hard to build up that reputation. What do you want to do? Fall in love and choose a mortal existence like Leo, Sterling, and the others have done? Is that what you’re telling me? Pretty soon I’ll be running the place by myself.”

  “Like you run it now, you mean?”

  “You’re being bitchy. I keep the guests happy. They come back. They tell their friends. That means money, and it means we stay in business.”

  Emmett turned his gaze back toward the landscape. This wasn’t the first time he and Zach had had this conversation, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. Zach had been unhappy for decades now. He buried himself in the accounting end of the business, and the others were content to let him do so, but his attitude was starting to affect all of them.

  Emmett would never admit this to Zach, but being used as a sex toy was starting to wear thin on him as well. It had been fun at first, and a great way to say “fuck you” to Gabriel, Michael, and the other archangels who’d had a hand in Emmett, Zach, and the others being banished to Earth, but now it was becoming tedious. Emmett was jealous of the others who’d found true love. It was something he found difficult to admit, even to himself. Every time a woman like Abigail came along, one who didn’t try to get him into bed as soon as he showed her to her room, a glimmer of hope began to build.