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To Kiss an Angel by Jane Beckingham

Clark's worry lines deepened. "It's okay, I understand."

Poor boy. She had to put him out of his misery. "No, Clark, you don't. You see heaven is great. Fabulous. Lots of big names. I mean Ghandi, Mother Theresa."

"Elvis," he prompted.

She smiled. "Yep, him too. But Clark, there's one person who isn't there. One person I can't live without. The person I love beyond having wings and going to harp practice."

"Even cloud jumping?" he asked, the tension easing in his eyes.

"Yep, even that. Oh, Clark Lannigan," she said, fingers caressing the curve of his cheek. He captured her hand, holding it in his and brought her fingers back to his lips. He kissed each tip slowly, and very seductively. Angel's toes curled. "I can live without wings, but I can't live without you."

"Really?"

"Really," she reiterated. She leaned against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest, eliciting a heat that coiled way down low. She smiled. "Wings are fun. But you are a lot more fun."

"Hey, I can attest to that. I have a list to show you and some photos."

"Of what?"

"Some challenges."

Love swelled in Angel's heart. "You mean you finished them?"

"Yep. The lingerie, well, that's a surprise for later."

"Sounds exciting."

"Definitely, Angel darling. A treat worth waiting for."

"And the other tasks?"

"Food tastes so much better with your fingers. See," he said and he lifted up his fingers for her to kiss.

She did. Each and every one.

"Very yummy," she laughed.

"I even sat amidst the flowers."

"But it's dark."

"Doesn't matter. I finally found a florist open and sat surrounded by her roses and inhaled."

"Oh, Clark." Angel couldn't think very much, except for how much she loved him.

"But you know there were ten tasks. And I've only done nine."

Heat stole across Angel's cheeks. "But the tenth one was…"

"No kissing," he reminded her.

"How about we scrap that one."

"Good idea," he agreed with mock severity. He wrapped her in his arms.