My Angel (54 page)

Read My Angel Online

Authors: Christine Young

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Historical

BOOK: My Angel
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Alexi led the way to Stephan's home, stopping Jabbar in front of the doorway. Negligently, he leaned on the saddle horn. He didn't know what he expected when Stephan stepped from the hut, his rifle clasped beneath one arm, a furious scowl on his usually smiling countenance. Stephan appeared to have every intention of using the weapon if necessary.

 

"What do you want, brother?" Stephan spoke with a slight sneer. "It's been such a long time since you've come calling. I could say it was a pleasure, but..."

 

Alexi knew the tone Stephan used was meant for all aristocrats, not just him. "My woman," Alexi said, determined to set fear into Stephan's heart. "Pray to your God you haven't
touched her.'' Alexi' s voice was low and powerful. He watched Stephan move under the power of his words.

 

"Pray to Allah," Stephan ground out, appearing unruffled by Alexi's cold threat.

 

"We've both grown up over the years," Alexi said, his emotions tightly controlled. "But you're still not man enough to hold your own against me. Where is Angela? Inside, I presume? Safe?"

 

Stephan widened his stance, squaring off against Alexi, his purpose unmistakable. "You may be bigger, but you never learned to care for a woman. She's under my protection now. I will keep her safe."

 

That jibe hit home. He, Alexi Popov, had promised Angela exactly that: to protect and keep her safe. Now Stephan was doing just that. They were indeed an unlikely pair.

 

"She's mine." Alexi growled low in his throat.

 

"Then prove it. Fight me for her."

 

At the challenge, tension coiled deep inside Alexi, all rational thought fleeing him. Alexi was off Jabbar in a flash, the two brothers circling. Alexi was huge and well muscled, Stephan long, lean and wiry. One man resembled a sleek gazelle, the other an enraged grizzly.

 

"Hold it right there!" Sam's voice rose above the fever pitch of the storm and the afternoon, penetrating the anger and the tension simmering inside each man. "Hold," he said again, this time in a fierce whisper.

 

Lightning-charged air threatened to jump between the brothers.

 

"Until Angela is legally wed, she's my daughter. Both of you stop this nonsense. I want to see her."

 

Both furious men suddenly looked chastised, the importance of Angela and her welfare suddenly resuming its proper place in their heads.

 

Alexi dropped his hands to his sides.

 

Stephan nodded. "She's in there."

 

Sam stepped through the door, brushing by both men as if they were nonexistent. He paused a few seconds, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. Angela was on the bed, turned
onto her side, her hands tucked beneath her cheek, her hair spread across the pillow and down her back. She looked like his little girl--his angel when she slept, his spitfire when she was awake. He adored her and wanted the best for her.

 

Well, she'd done it again. Her impetuous desire for adventure had brought her halfway around the world and earned her a wretched flogging at the hands of a madwoman. And if what he'd understood was true, she wasn't married, but she'd agreed to be this arrogant Russian's paramour. He should put her in a corner for a week for this.

 

He sighed, kneeling down beside her, tenderly smoothing back the hair from her face just as he'd done so many times. He meant to test Alexi--or Devil Blackmoor--whatever the hell he called himself. "You are going home with me. If he loves you he will follow. If he loves you, nothing will keep him from you. If not…

 

"If not, you are indeed better off without him." He growled softly in the back of his throat.

 

Moisture filled his eyes and stung the deeper recesses of his heart. "If not," Sam repeated, "he doesn't deserve you. And as for the other young puppy, I can tell by watching him he cares for you, but nothing more. He has a deep-seated desire to best his idol. I should have let them fight. Maybe one of them would have beat some sense into the other." Sam inhaled deeply, remembering his own arrogance. "One can't expect miracles in this godforsaken land--or anywhere else.

 

"Rest, little one. The journey home is long."

 

Angela stirred, her hand brushing against his. When had she grown into such a beautiful woman? Sam wondered. He'd been so determined to do what he thought best for his little girl that he'd never listened to her, never acknowledged her wishes as anything but childhood fantasies. She'd craved adventure.

 

He wanted her to go to finishing school. For the life of him, he could not come up with one good reason now.

 

If he had listened...

 

If he had heard what she'd tried to tell him time and again, all this might have never happened.

 

"Papa?" Angela asked, blinking slowly.

 

"I'm here. I've come to take you home," he said.

 

Even in her drowsy state, he watched her stiffen. "No, Papa. I have to see Alexi first. I promised, and now that you're here..." She touched his face.

 

She hadn't expected to see him, he thought.

 

"Now that you're here, I won't be in danger."

 

"Now that I'm here, you'll obey me..."

 

Her eyes flashed. "No."

 

He knew he was controlling her life again, not listening to her, but when had she grown so willful? "Angela?"

 

She had always been willful, he realized.

 

"Papa, don't you see? I'm not a little girl any longer. I'm a grown woman. And Papa, I ..." She paused, red staining her cheeks, and Sam knew what she was about to reveal.

 

"You don't have to tell me. I know."

 

Angela gasped, straining to rise. "You know?" Her eyes widened with fear. "Papa!" she cried out, her voice frantic.

 

Sam knew all too well what she thought. "He's alive, sweet angel. Even though I did have every intention of giving him a slow, torturous death."

 

The door slammed against the far wall. Alexi's powerful body was framed in the doorway, light from behind him casting an ominous glow around him.

 

"Alexi?" Angela said softly. "Let me talk to him, Papa. Please."

 

Reluctantly, Sam nodded his assent.

 

Angela touched her fingers to her father's hand then held her other hand out to Alexi. In two arrogant strides, he stood beside the bed, his eyes shimmering in the faint light.

 

Sam walked away, stepping outside the door and closing it behind him. Angela watched her father go, knowing it had been hard for him to leave her alone with Alexi. He didn't back down easily.

 

Alexi held her hand in his. His fingers were large and callused. With him beside her she felt fragile, delicate, a feeling at odds with her character and the life she had led.

 

The rain beat a steady crescendo on the rooftop, and embers
from the fire spit and popped. She didn't know what to say; she only knew that with Alexi by her side she felt at ease, comfortable. He held her heart in the palm of his hand.

 

Angela watched his hardened features soften, his cold eyes warm until they smoldered with... what? Love? Probably not. All he'd ever felt for her was desire.

 

She brought his hand to her cheek, stroked his fingers lovingly. His flesh was warm against her own. Her lips touched his hand. She held on tight to his hand, now letting it rest on the bed. Silence seemed to engulf them.

 

"Are you all right?" His voice broke through the tension and the solitude she'd needed to find for a few moments before they were at odds once more.

 

"Yes," she said. His eyes told her he didn't believe her. "I just need to rest. I can't go with you right now."

 

Anger flared in the deep brown eyes that stared at her. A ferocity she'd never seen in him before glimmered darkly.' 'I'm very tired," she added, suddenly afraid of the fury she saw in him.

 

"I see," His tone was brisk. He rose, striding to the fire.

 

Not moving for many minutes, Angela wondered at his stiff composure. A silence that only minutes ago felt comfortable was now fraught with tension. Angela stared at his back for a few seconds, trying to concentrate, trying to compose her thoughts into a reasonable argument she could explain to him. Her efforts were useless.

 

His head now bowed, he appeared to pray. Then he turned his expression enigmatic. "How long?"

 

"I don't know. I feel stronger today than yesterday. Perhaps tomorrow I--"

 

"Do you prefer to stay here? With Stephan?" he asked the pain in his voice obvious to her.

 

She didn't understand. "Stay with Stephan?" she asked, puzzled by his question.

 

"Don't make me ask again."

 

"No," she said, beginning to understand. "Stephan doesn't want me here. He wants money."

 

"Stephen will get all the blood money he wants." Alexi's voice had grown threatening. "He won't have you."

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