Fallen Angels: Beguiled / Wanton / Uncovered. Lori Foster. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lori Foster
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
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blood ran cold with his words. “Mick, if you ever, ever hear anything suspicious, or see anyone around the mailboxes, you call the police. Don’t you dare try confronting anyone on your own.”

      He didn’t reply to that, merely made his way to the door. “I’ll lock this behind me.”

      “Mick?”

      “Call him, Angel. Tell him what’s going on. He cares about you and Grayson. I know he does.”

      It would have been nice if Mick didn’t act like the typical domineering, overprotective male. Why were men, of all ages, so blasted stubborn? She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

      Mick looked at her a moment longer, then nodded. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

      She smiled at him. She was very lucky she’d met him when she had. Knowing him, having his friendship, had made her life much easier. “Yes. Get some sleep so you’re well rested for that test.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      After checking that the door was securely locked, Angel peeked in on Grayson. He was sleeping soundly, which would give her a chance to take a quick shower. With all of Derek’s help of late, her leg had more time to rest. It didn’t hurt as often anymore, but tonight it was sore. She’d sat too long typing at her desk earlier and the muscles felt cramped. A hot shower usually helped.

      Leaving the bathroom door open so she could hear Grayson if he cried, she stripped off her clothes and reached into the tub to adjust the temperature of the water. Once the steam started billowing out, she slipped in under the spray.

      It felt wonderful to once again wash her hair with scented shampoo, to use all the toiletries she’d given up on due to lack of funds. At first she’d tried returning the things to Derek, but he’d been so sincere in wanting her to keep them, so anxious to relieve the guilt of his past sins—his words for his execrable behavior of the past—that she couldn’t deny him.

      She lingered for a long time, relaxing in the hypnotic warmth of the steam and stinging spray, until she became sleepy and knew she needed to put herself to bed. Grayson still woke during the night for a feeding, and he was usually up with the birds in the morning.

      She was just stepping over the side of the tub when the phone rang.

      Her first thought was that it might be Derek, and ridiculously enough, her heart leaped. He’d taken to calling her several times a day, whereas before her phone had seldom rung at all. Many times now he’d called to tell her good morning, or good-night, even if he’d spent hours at her apartment.

      Wrapping a thick white towel around herself, she hurried out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to snatch up the phone. She was smiling as she said, “Hello?”

      A rough, rasping breath answered her, then turned into a growl. Her smile died a quick death.

      Shaken, Angel started to slam the phone back down, and then she heard, “Bitch. Give me what I want.”

      The rasping tones didn’t sound human and her blood rushed from her head, leaving her dizzy. “I don’t know what you want,” she said, her voice shaking despite her efforts to sound unaffected.

      “Yes, you do.” There was a laugh, taunting and high-pitched. “You’re not as innocent as you like to pretend, Angel Morton. But your time is up. Do you hear me?”

      “I’m hanging up now,” she said, determined not to let the caller get the upper hand.

      “Did you get my letter? I know where you are now. You better watch your back…”

      Angel slammed the phone into the cradle. Her heart was beating so hard, it rocked her body and she quickly wrapped her arms around herself. She was only marginally aware of the water dripping from her hair down her back, leaving a puddle on the floor. Goose bumps rose on her skin, but she was frozen, unable to move.

      When the knock sounded on the door, she let out a startled, short scream, jumping back two steps and bumping into the kitchen table. A chair tipped over and crashed to the floor. Grayson woke, his disgruntled wail piercing in the otherwise leaden silence.

      She heard Derek call out, “Angel!” at the same time a key sounded in the lock. The door immediately swung open. She couldn’t help herself, she gaped at him. How had he known to show up just when she needed him most?

      In the next instant, doubt surfaced, and she had to wonder if it was a coincidence, or part of a plan. Was it possible he was working with his family to drive her away? Had she inadvertently stepped into the lion’s den?

      Derek stormed in like an avenging angel, took one look at her standing there with nothing more than the towel covering her, then crossed the room with long, angry strides. He grabbed her shoulders. “What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

      Angel managed to shake herself out of her stupor. She clutched at her towel with a fist. “What are you doing here?”

      He looked nonplussed by her calm question and tightened his hands on her. “I wanted to see you.” His head turned in the direction of Grayson’s wails and a fierce frown formed. “You’re both okay?”

      “Yes, of course.”

      “But you screamed.” He turned back to her, raised one hand when she started to speak, then shook his head. “First things first. Go get dried off. I’ll get the baby.”

      She was shaking all over, but he thankfully didn’t comment on it. “Thank you. I think the phone disturbed him, and then your knock…”

      Derek started her toward her bedroom with a gentle push. “I understand, babe. Go. We’ll talk about it in a minute.”

      Regardless of what he’d said, Angel followed Derek into the baby’s room and made certain everything was all right. She never let Grayson cry, and even now, when she was so rattled, she couldn’t stand to hear him upset. Derek cradled him close to his chest, rocking him, murmuring to him, and Grayson immediately began to quiet, his yells turning into hiccups as he recognized his father’s scent and voice. Derek held his face close to the baby’s, nuzzling, kissing his tiny ear, his cheek, smoothing his large hand up and down Grayson’s back. Angel’s throat felt tight and her chest restricted.

      He turned suddenly when he realized Angel had followed him. Slowly, his gaze ran the length of her, lingering, she knew, on the still harsh scars of her left leg. His attention returned to the baby. “Go get something on, Angel, before you catch cold.”

      She wondered if her leg repulsed him; his voice had sounded unusually gruff and low. It really was ugly and overall she looked like a drowned rat at the moment. “All right. I’ll…I’ll be right back.”

      In the bathroom again, she quickly dried off, dragged a comb through her tangled hair, then shrugged into her housecoat. It was long and thick and covered her from head to toe. She hurried back in to Grayson. The baby now had his entire fist stuffed in his mouth, sucking loudly. She knew from experience that would only suffice for so long.

      “Let me have him. After I nurse him, he should fall back to sleep.”

      Derek gave her a long look before nodding. “Let me change him first.”

      He disappeared into the other room and Angel paced. The letter this afternoon, then the phone call…. It was the first time she’d heard a voice. Usually the calls consisted of heavy breathing and ominous silences. Again, chills ran up her arms and she ducked her head, her brain working furiously. Mick was right; she had to trust Derek, had to tell him of her suspicions. But she wouldn’t tell him everything. She’d only confide about the most recent events. After she saw how he reacted to that, then she’d consider telling him the rest.

      When he touched her shoulder, she again jumped, whirling about to face him, her hand pressed to her throat. His expression was dark, his eyes narrowed, and she tried a nervous laugh.

      “I’m sorry. You startled me.”

      “Obviously.