His Devious Angel (4 page)

"Just saying. And I'm not a ghost."

"And I'm not your man."
Should a ghost sound so huffy? Liam's daytime nightmare just ramped up. 

He glanced at the girl next to him, who still had her arms crossed and her bottom lip protruding slightly from one of the prettiest shaped mouths he'd ever noticed. He'd seen similar on lipstick ads and had always wondered if they'd been surgically enhanced.

Somehow he just knew hers were nature's own creative perfection. As he watched, she sucked in the bottom one and chewed on it, a small tell that she was upset. It gave him confidence that maybe she wasn't as hard-assed as she'd been putting on. A throat clearing from behind pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"She won't listen to me. I can't force her."

"Give over, mate. She's hurt and not thinking clearly. Saw her life pass before her eyes, she did. You need to man up."

"Easy for you to say."

Liam caught her hand once again on the way up to fixing her hair. Short and curly, the blonde mass rioted around her small face, and no amount of tugging and twisting seemed able to control it, though she'd tried numerous times.

As soon as he touched her, she stopped the upward movement and fisted her fingers.  From the steamy glare, he would have sworn her intentions had been to sock him in the chops.

"Calm down, honey. What can I do to make up for this? I've been trying to tell you how sorry I am. Please just let me get you to someone who can look after you."

Whether frustration or genuine caring seeped into his words, Liam wasn't sure—he didn't know what he felt. Angry at his own culpability? Thankful for not killing anyone? Accepting that he'd suffer more wakeful nights, new nightmares to add to the others, a sigh escaped that turned into a moan. 

The sound seemed to get through to the she-tiger. It hung between them, the noise of a man in pain.

Sadie clearly heard his pain. And it broke her reserve and stopped her from demanding that he call a taxi. 

She searched his expression, and as hard as she found it to trust any man, she knew when a person was being honest. Her judge of character had been honed through years of suffering from her fellow humans' spiteful meanness and sad small minds. Boys, being the worst, had turned her off the male species to this day. Even at the age of twenty-eight, much to her family's horror, she hadn't changed.

And this guy personified the type of fellow she most detested, full of himself just because he'd been granted good looks and a tall strong body that moved like a sex advert.

She knew he waited for her to give in, and she never would have but for the agonized sound. It dug into her conscience and melted her resistance.

"Fine." She all but yelled the word. Pissed at herself for lacking the control to ignore his feelings, she wished the throbbing on her right side didn't hurt so badly. If she thought she could escape from his fancy silver metallic chick-magnet without collapsing in a heap of cuss words and whimpers, she'd be gone.

Blasted hair was driving her bonkers. She swiped it back from her face only to have it pool around her cheeks as soon as she moved her head. Shaving the mess looked more attractive every day.

Damn
but she hated being at such a disadvantage.

"Well what are you waiting for, Gonzales?" Her tone lacked civility as she spit out the sarcastic nickname she'd tacked on at the end. Speedy might have worked better, but she didn't think he'd appreciate either one.

"Gonzales, like in Speedy? Not funny. My Name is Liam O’Brien. And I'm waiting for you to tell me where I should go."

"I'd love to tell you where to go—"

He chuckled, and the sound worked on her like honey in hot tea. "Okay, let me re-word that last phrase. Where can I take you?" He had warm brown eyes, and when they looked at a person, they smiled without his mouth moving. Not fair. Made him look likable. And he was an idiot.

She stiffened. Her bruised muscles screamed with fury. Okay. Moving wasn't a good idea. Going home to her lonely apartment an even worse idea.

"I guess you'd better take me to my mother's place. She'll be thrilled to look after me." She couldn't hide her dismay at the thought of just how much her mother would be in her glory to have Sadie at her mercy. 
It's going to be a long day.

Bent over the steering wheel, Romeo started the car and pulled away from the curb with the utmost care, driving like the embodiment of a careful old man. Words escaped before she could stop them. Her darn temper wasn’t safe at the best of times, and this had to be one of the worst. "Oh for Christ sake! We'll never get there at this rate."

He grinned into the rear-view mirror as if someone sat in the back seat. The guy was looney-tunes.

Leaning back, he relaxed and asked, "Where does Mom live?"

"A couple of streets over, on Mayfair. She's in the big white house on the corner, lots of windows, black shutters
,
and ironwork around the window boxes."

"Are you sure I can't take you to the hospital first? I'm worried there might be internal damage. You seem pretty stiff and sore, and I saw you wince when you lifted your arm." He was worried; she heard it in his voice. Good! Silly bugger deserved to worry. He could have killed someone today.

"Just get me home," she growled. "My mother's a nurse, a regular Florence Nightingale, and she'll like nothing better than to have one of her daughters to fuss over.

"You have sisters?"

"Two. You?"

"Only child."

"Figures!"

"Look lady, I'm trying to be a good guy here—to make up for earlier. Can't you meet me just a little bit of the way? I'm not even asking for half. Tell me your name at least. Unless you want me to keep calling you Crabby?"

"It's better than Honey. That's the house. Her car's in the driveway, so she's home. Just let me out here."

He ignored her and drove into the yard. "I'll help you."

"No. I can make it on my own." Sadie was glad she'd jogged in her new yoga pants and short stretch top to match.  If she'd worn sweats like she did sometimes, there'd be underarm and chest stains and she'd have been mortified. She hated being at a disadvantage, even over something so stupid. Plus her mother would have commented and no doubt embarrassed her, which she often did without even realizing.

To Sadie's dismay, when she tried to move nothing worked. She'd stiffened like cold gravy. Using her hands, she lifted her right leg to angle it out of the car, and at the same time, she twisted her body, wanting to slide out. Except if she tried to stand, she'd fall flat on her face. And wouldn't that be cute. A guy who'd be perfect for the main part on
The Bachelor
, one of her mom's favorite shows, the one Sadie thought pathetic, would watch her make a complete fool of herself.

“I want to help you, I said. Don’t move.”

Like she could! Asshole moves like a trained soldier, she thought, watching his fluid movements as he walked around to her side of the vehicle.  

Ignoring her curt refusal, her knight stood with her door opened. He waited and watched, his hand lifting then stopping in mid-air as if he wasn't sure what to do.

"Oh for heaven's sake. Help me, you idiot. Can't you see I've stiffened up?"

"Sadie! What's happened?" Her beautiful flighty mother waddled towards the car, moving surprisingly fast for a woman her size. "What have you done to yourself this time?" Worry mixed with annoyance rang in her booming voice.

Sadie winced and then felt guilty for her feelings. She'd fought all her life to make the enormous love she had for her mother override her embarrassment at the way her mother looked, her big body, loud voice, and boisterous personality.

Red hair, obviously helped from a good dye job, backcombed and moussed to stick out every which way, seemed to send out sparks as she leaned over and stared into Sadie's eyes. The woman had magic at her disposal—the magic a mother had, which gave her a deep understanding of just what was going on in her daughter's head.

"You're hurt."

"A little."

She gently smacked Sadie's head. "Don't lie to your mother. What happened?"

For some strange reason Liam seemed to take umbrage at seeing her getting "what for" from her mom.  Huffy with attitude, he intervened. "She ran in front of my car to save a little boy, and…
W
ell, I hit her."

"With the car?"

Sadie shook her head at her mother's dumb question. "Yes, Mom, with the car. But the child's fine."

"I'm glad. But you're not. You need to come into the house so I can check you out. And don't argue." She held up her hand in front of Sadie, effectively stopping her from uttering any opposition, which she had no intention of doing. A tweak of conscience reminded her of the particulars in their relationship. For instance, since she always argued, the poor woman was just playing by the rules.

"I'll carry her." Liam stepped around the large woman and bent with his arms reaching.  "I wanted to take her to the hospital but she refused."

"Of course she did. One tough chick, my girl. Just like her jackass-stubborn father, and I mean that in the best way, God bless his soul and keep him smiling."

Sadie felt herself being lifted as if she weighed nothing. She'd instinctively tried to lighten his load by making her body as small as possible.

This is torture,
she thought, feeling his hands in places they didn't belong.
Being held this close to a man who smells like one of those just-for-men colognes, I feel like one of those heroines in the movies. Teach him right if he hurts his back.
The thought popped in and made her stomach tighten.

Every morning, she stood in front of her mirrored closets and angled every which way to see the body she'd yearned for all her life. But it was as if the chubby girl she'd worked so hard to get rid of still hovered inside.

Realistically, she knew it wasn't so. She knew that all her running and yoga classes had given her a slim and healthy form.  Her eyes confirmed it each time she gazed in a mirror, or into every store window, or, truth be told, any reflective surface, actually.

Swinging above the ground, securely cuddled, Sadie came back to earth. While her mother bustled along, nattering to Sadie's cheerful carrier, she kept her arms crossed and glared at the both of them.

Trust her mom to take a shining to this Liam guy. Knowing the woman had eyes like a hawk, no doubt she’d registered the make and model of the convertible down to the total package price, inventoried his clothes and knew what designer names, if any, were on the labels, and could draw a police composite of his features.

From his overly long wavy hair and eyebrows that formed the perfect shape to hood his wickedly dangerous smiling eyes to the upward curving lips that smiled too sarcastically, sure as hell her sharp-eyed parent had catalogued it all.

Sadie wished she'd never run into him.
Hold it!
He'd run into her.
She smirked at her own silliness.
Still, if she had her druthers, they'd never have met. Seeing how palsy-walsy
her dear, nosy mom was behaving, he'd undoubtedly be invited to dinner to see if one of her sisters could pick up a husband.  Why did this have to happen to her?

A picture of the little Pedro drifted into her mind.  Black curls rioting around his baby face, while his chubby little legs pumped hard, trying to catch up with his toy. How could she have stood by to watch the little angel battered, maybe killed?

That the fool driving had such quick reflexes was a giant plus. A bonus she hadn’t counted on because there had been no time. One second she was going to cut across the street, and the next she had the kid in her arms while flying through the air.

If he'd hit them dead on—okay not the best wording—they'd have been toast. But he'd swerved and reduced the impact, saved them from serious injuries. Well he wouldn't get any commendations from her. The whack-job had still been driving too fast.

Her rioting thoughts ramped up her dreadful headache, and she knew from the frown her mother shot in her direction that she probably looked mean. But she didn’t give a rat’s ass. Today had been her day to play, and now she’d be stuck here for who knew how long.