Angel?
He watched her carefully, observing every little detail of her flawless body. Starting from the bottom, he trained his eyes on her feet, and moved them up slowly, savoring every bit of skin that was visible from the slit in her dark purple dress. Toned and shapely, he knew exactly how powerful those legs were. He moved up her flat stomach and tapered waist on to her back, smooth and unblemished like a bowl of cream. And her hair, dark purple and silky, always smelled like jasmine. His eyes traveled up to her neck where her dress was knotted. He wanted to simply pull that knot and ravish her right then and there…
"You know, with those thoughts running through your mind right now," Betsy began with mischievous grin as she spoke in her clipped British accent, "I can't imagine why they call you Angel."