Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One) Read Online Free PDF

do that every morning for the
rest of eternity?”
    “Oh,” he cooed, pouting as he reached over to
pinch my cheek. “Someone isn’t a morning person.”
    I jerked my head back and poked my tongue out
at him. “Bite me,” I grumbled.
    Taking no offence at my words, Cupid beamed
at me and leapt off my bed. In two bounds with his long and skinny
legs, he had pulled back the curtains allowing the early morning
sunlight to flood the room. “It’s a beautiful day outside,” he
informed me.
    A low growl escaped my throat as I squinted
at him in the bright light. “It’s New Orleans in the summer,” I
grumbled at him. “It’s probably a hundred degrees with the same
humidity.”
    “104,” he corrected me. “Or at least it’s
going to be. And you need to get up, shower and dress, so we can
grab some food before it all goes.”
    I pulled back the sheets and dragged my feet
through the door he was pointing at. It led to my own en suite
bathroom. It was a little on the small side – it definitely wasn’t
big enough for me to be able to lie down on the floor and stretch
out - but it had a shower, toilet and sink, as well as all the
basic necessities, including shampoo and conditioner. Most
importantly, it held a mirror. I turned the shower on and stepped
in, surprised at how much pressure and heat there was in the water
in the old building. It was blissful.
    I allowed the water to run over my body,
enjoying the feeling as it woke me up. Cupid was right: I was far
from a morning person, but a shower would work wonders on me. My
eyes fell to my abdomen, searching for a trace of what had happened
six months ago. I didn’t have to look hard. There were several thin
slivers of silvery skin, glinting up at me.
    I grabbed the shampoo and scrubbed my hair
with it, but even after three washes, the temporary hair dye had
yet to turn the water red. I had been hoping that, despite it
remaining vibrant after six months, it would wash out. But no.
Great, I was stuck with red hair for ten to fifteen years. There
were murderers who got lesser sentences than me.
    Admitting defeat, I rinsed my hair and
stepped out, wrapping a towel around me. I quickly brushed my teeth
and then searched the cupboard for anything resembling make up.
There wasn’t any, although there was a hairdryer. With the small
motor drowning out my curses, I set to drying my hair.
    Dry, the color was just as vibrant as it had
been when I dyed it, and somehow, even though there were no
straighteners or hairspray in sight, it still flicked out. Well, at
least my hair looked good: I had just had it cut so it looked neat,
the length sitting just below my shoulder blades. With little else
to do, I opened the door. Waiting for me on the other side was
Cupid. He thrust a pile of clothing into my arms, before handing
over a small bag.
    I took the items and retreated back into the
bathroom. I pulled the clothes on, surprised at the silkiness of
the underwear. Fully dressed, I stood back and examined the outfit
in the mirror. It wasn’t quite what I expected, especially after
the nightdress, but it actually wasn’t too bad.
    The trousers were a pale gray and long enough
that even when wearing heels, they would cover the shoes. They were
also very flattering without being too sexy. The shirt was short
sleeved and had a slight puff at the shoulders, while the main body
was long, resting on my upper thighs. Over the top I had been given
a waistcoat –gray like the trousers - that was very short,
buttoning just below my breasts with only two buttons.
    I turned my attention to the small bag.
Inside was a stick of mascara, black eye kohl and some blusher. I
could have kissed Cupid.
    Finally satisfied, I exited the bathroom and
gave Cupid a quick twirl, earning a low whistle off him. “I can
assure you that you won’t be the only one cursing the no sex rule,”
he told me.
    I snatched the high heeled pumps he was
offering me and stuck my feet into them, bringing my eye line