She flicked a fry into her mouth and then froze. The feeling snaking down her spine was undeniable. He came so close, so fast, that she knew it was him.            “Damn it,” she muttered.  Solitude and the actual ability to eat her food in peace couldn’t even be gained on a damn clock tower without interruption.            Ignoring him would be pointless endeavor. The sensation grew as Lily peered onto the observation deck below, and like every time before, the mere sight of him stole her ability to form an intelligent thought. Having a name Lily couldn’t even begin to pronounce or spell, she’d always known him as Julian.            And when he wasn’t around, she knew him as the pain in her ass.             “Hello, my Lily.”            She closed her eyes. Damn his voice to Hell and back. The sound, the deep timbre of the way he’d said her name, crawled all the way down to the pit of her stomach, where it started to smolder.            Lily pried one eye open.            Julian’s lips formed a smile. A full bottom lip and a thinner one on top curved in a way that was downright sinful.  Those lips whispered promised pleasures, and they also carried an intensely real threat.            She needed to remember that.            Her wry gaze flickered over his face, and she bit back a sigh. She knew he was bad. Oh, he was so bad that half the demons feared him. And the other half? They wanted to be him. That knowledge did nothing to dampen her appreciation of his beauty. Male or female—both were in awe of Julian.            After all, Julian had been an angel.            Tonight, he wore black trousers and a buttoned down white shirt. He must have grown bored with the buttons, though. Only half of them were done, and hard, pale flesh peeked through.            She found an ounce of common sense along with her voice. “What do you want?”            His smile widened. “Isn’t that a loaded question?”            She rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her burger. “I’m on lunch break. So if you expect me to chase you off, you’re mistaken.”            Julian inched closer, the soft breeze tugging at his shoulder length blond hair. “What kind of Nephilim doesn’t chase a fallen angel?”            “A hungry one,” she retorted.