Nobody's Angel (29 page)

His pupils dilated as he spoke, causing her breathing to hitch. Thoughts of giving up control and being dominated by him should have had her grabbing for the door handle to throw herself onto the side of the road and escape. Instead, she felt her clit throb as mental images flashed through her mind of herself kneeling before Marc, head bowed, waiting to be told how to please him.

Angelina thought he was going to kiss her, but he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead instead.

“Almost there.” Luke’s announcement interrupted her thoughts, and she broke away from Marc. She wondered if she’d see Luke this week. Considering he hadn’t been able to even make eye contact with her this morning, that seemed unlikely. Was he upset that she’d spent most of the night with Marc? She should explain to him the arrangement she had with Marc was strictly as a student of BDSM. No strings, no romantic attachments. Somehow, Luke seemed the more stable of the two.

But Luke confused her. Last night, she’d thought he was interested in her. The way he’d brought her to her first orgasm in forever made her squirm in her seat again. However, his constantly pulling away from her since then made her want to employ some domination tactics of her own. An image of Luke stretched out on the cross where she’d been flogged came to her mind, only he was facing away from the cross. The cross didn’t seem so intimidating with him on it.

She was certain he would never agree to something like that, even if she could so picture him there. Still, he certainly wouldn’t be able to run away from her there. She giggled.

“What’s so funny, pet?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Are you keeping secrets from me,
cara
?” His tone grew very serious.

“Actually, this is more a secret from Luke.” She felt both Marc and Luke tense. Angelina laid her head in the crook of Marc’s arm and shoulder and laid her hand on Luke’s thigh, looking ahead as they drove through a residential area with very expensive homes. Before she had time to explore that fantasy any further, Marc got a text message he read.

“Luke, maybe you should stop for gas.”

“No, we’re good.”

“I really need to hit the head.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

“Trying to show some class around a lady.”

She smiled, finding it humorous Marc could talk in great detail about sex, BDSM, and her girly bits, but then became embarrassed to talk about the call of nature.

“Besides, I need to show you the route map to where Angelina’s staying.”

A few minutes later, Luke pulled into a gas station and up to one of the pumps. She guessed he decided to fill up after all. They both got out, but Angelina stayed inside to just chill. The closer they got to the club, the more on edge she became. She lay her head back against the bench seat and closed her eyes.

How much further? She wanted to get there—and at the same time to never go there again. This was going to be a roller-coaster week for her emotions.

* * *

“She wants to go where?” Luke’s laughter only pissed Marc off even more. He knew he needed to tell Angelina who he was, but after all his talk about honesty, he’d sure dug himself a deep hole. Until he could figure out the best way to explain his reasons for perpetuating this lie of omission, he planned to keep his mouth shut. But, just as Luke had felt the need to confess to him this morning, Marc needed to let him know what was going on, if for no other reason than to keep Angelina from finding out before he was ready to come clean.

“There’s something you need to know.” Marc waited for Luke to stop laughing. “Angelina and I met before—at the club.”

“What are you talking about? She sure didn’t act like she knew you.”

“She doesn’t remember me. She was in a bad place when I rescued her from an abusive scene. So she didn’t recognize me—and I didn’t fill in the memory lapse.”

“Why not?”

Well, if I knew that, I’d probably tell her
.

“When it started out, there was no need to dredge up bad memories. I didn’t think I’d see her beyond that night at the bar. Then we went to dinner at her house and, you know what happened when we found her.” Marc ran a hand over his face. “Look, I’m going to find a way to tell her. Just not right now.”

“What about Adam? Is he in on the lie?”

Marc cringed inwardly at the word, but knew it was nothing less than a lie. “He knows. He’s not too happy about my asking him to play a part in it. We may have to stick around at Adam’s for a while after we drop her off so he can read me the riot act. He’s been anxious to do so for a while now. I just handed him a full clip of ammo.”

Adam’s “WTF R U doing lying to her?” message left it clear he was in for a royal reaming out by his former top sergeant. Maybe he’d feel better afterward. With any luck, Adam would know how he could extricate himself from the situation without damaging Angelina’s trust in him…or, more importantly, a future Dom.

“Adam’s going to talk with Angelina’s friend, Karla, too. She was hired to sing at the club a few months back.” Marc could just imagine how thrilled Adam was to have to talk to Karla, too. How the two could sleep across the hall from each other and barely speak boggled the mind. But, yeah, Marc was in for the royal treatment, all right.

But having her stay here was worth it. She’d be safe at the club from Asshole, who’d been banned from the premises. Even if the bastard pursued her to Denver, this would be the last place he’d expect to find her. Marc wouldn’t have let her stay with a friend anywhere else in town, but he knew Adam would protect her as well as Marc could. Maybe even better, because he was retired.

They returned to the cab of the SUV and minutes later were pulling onto the street where the club was located. The area must have started to look familiar to Angelina.

“Karla said to use the back entrance.”

Marc gave Luke directions as if he were reading them off his phone screen—as if he weren’t totally aware of where he was headed.

A minute later, Luke pulled into a short driveway behind the two-and-a-half story Victorian mansion. The black wrought-iron fencing and gates gave the red brick, rectangular building a militaristic look that suited the club’s theme. On the second floor, a wrought-iron balcony surrounded Adam’s private patio. A formidable presence drew Marc’s attention in that direction, where he saw Adam, standing like a ship’s captain at his helm. He was beyond pissed, given his stance with his hands fisted on his hips. When the man turned and walked away, Marc steeled himself for the reaming out to come.

“Angie!” Karla ran down the back porch steps to greet Angelina. She wore a lacy black corset that barely contained her breasts and bounced to a stop just short of wrapping Angelina in a bear hug. Suddenly shy, Karla took her guest’s hands between hers in greeting instead. “I’m so glad you’re going to stay here this week.”

While Adam purchased her stage wardrobe, he didn’t have much say about what she wore in her off hours. But did she dress like this all the time? If so, was the man dead and had just forgotten to fall over?

Marc had never seen Karla quite so exuberant before. He didn’t realize how being surrounded by three serious former military men wasn’t exactly conducive to much of a fun social life for her. She acted so mature and somber most of the time, he’d forgotten she was only twenty-five, probably about the same age as Angelina.

Marc wondered how much younger Angelina was than his own thirty-three years. He watched as Angelina gave Karla a hug, Italians being more demonstrative. The two sure hit it off quickly in the short time they’d known each other last month.

Marc wished he had his arms around Angelina right now. Touching her. Tying her to…something. Just when was he supposed to start her training—and where?

“What happened to your eye?” Karla looked over at Marc as if she were ready to deck him.

What had he ever done to make her think him capable of hitting a woman? He knew she didn’t think much of the BDSM activities at the club, but that was a low blow, pun intended.

Angelina laughed at their expressions. “No, Marc and Luke rescued me. It was an old boyfriend. The one Master Adam escorted from the club during my last visit.”

“Oh, my God! What a horrible man! I hope he’s in jail now.”

Angelina looked down at the ground. “No, but I took care of him. Between the chin jab that broke his nose and, well, a foot to the groin, he won’t be bothering me again.”

“Oh, sounds like you’ve had some self-defense training, too. Adam made me take martial arts before I went to college in New York City.”

“I thought you only just met.”

“Oh, we corresponded since I was sixteen.” A shadow crossed her face. Clearly, times weren’t as good as when they were pen pals.

Luke went to the back of the SUV to retrieve Angelina’s suitcase and Marc hung back, waiting for Angelina to “introduce” them to her friend, but Karla took the initiative and came over to extend her hand to Marc.

“Hi, I’m Karla.” He caught an almost imperceptible wink. Obviously, Adam had let her in on the ruse. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now why did it just add to his guilt to bring an innocent into his lie? Why didn’t he just come clean and have a big laugh about the whole thing once they got inside?

He took her hand and shook it. “Marc D’Alessio. Nice to meet you.”

“And my apologies for thinking the wrong thing about Angelina’s black eye. I have no tolerance for men who abuse women.”

When Luke joined them, Marc introduced him to Karla for real because Luke hadn’t been to the club since Karla arrived.

A gruff voice from the back door caught everyone’s attention. Marc looked up to see Adam standing at the back door. “Come in and take a load off. Karla’s made dinner for everyone.”

Shit
. So much for getting this over quickly. Marc turned his attention back to the ladies and motioned for them to go first. Luke fell into step before him and Marc brought up the rear, making his way up the wooden steps and across the porch. Adam stood by the door, greeting everyone as they went inside.

Marc appreciated the warm greeting and smile he gave Angelina, at least. She probably felt very uncomfortable being back here.

“Glad to have you back for a visit, hon,” he said to her. She smiled up at Adam, thanked him, and walked into the kitchen.

Adam glanced down at Karla as she walked by not looking up at him, his smile pained. She didn’t say a word to him. Maybe Angelina could bring the two of them together this week so they could at least co-exist without all the tension.

Next in the procession, Luke greeted Adam and whispered something Marc couldn’t hear, causing Adam to nod and glance toward Marc. Coming to stand nearly at attention before his former top sergeant, Marc endured the man’s brutal stare.

He’d do anything in the world before disappointing this man. But he’d not only disappointed Adam, he’d put him and Karla in an uncomfortable position.

Without preamble, Adam asked, “Who hit her?”

“Sir Asshole, or dickwad, as you called him, attacked her Saturday night. I brought her to Denver to keep her away from him, but the police can’t do anything unless he violates the protection order.” Adam growled. No, he wouldn’t have to worry about Adam keeping an eye on her while Marc was working. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“You’d better find a way to explain why you and I need to talk because your ass is mine just as soon as you can pop smoke after dinner.”
Oh, shit
. Adam had reverted to Marine lingo about making a fast retreat after throwing a smoke grenade to conceal the retreat. Yeah, Marc would be wishing he were in retreat all right. But heading to Adam’s office was where he needed to be retreating from. He knew there would be hell to pay.

Marc knew he deserved nothing less. Maybe Adam could tell him how to fix the mess he’d gotten himself into. As he walked by Adam, the man actually slapped the back of his head. Then again, Marc wasn’t looking forward to this talk. At least he’d get a last meal.

Marc walked into the kitchen to find Karla giving Angelina the grand tour. Well, grand might not be the right word. The kitchen certainly was utilitarian—but nothing to write home about for a gourmet chef like Angelina. He could tell from her expression she wasn’t impressed, but trying to be polite.

When they’d done the renovations, Adam had barely known how to boil water so he hadn’t fussed much about appliances or fixtures in here. He’d planned to eat a lot of take-out and delivery. The biggest expense had been the cabinetry, which Luke had made out of fine cherry. It gave the room a warm feeling at least. Not that he was getting any warm feelings from Adam right now. He avoided making eye contact with him.

“Angelina, you and Karla are welcome to have your cooking classes in my state-of-the-art kitchen.” Marc certainly hadn’t made much use of it. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was mainly for show. He pretty much lived in the bedroom when he was home, where he had his books, his sound system, even a wet bar. Everything a man could want.

Except for someone to enjoy it with him
.

But wasn’t that the way he’d always preferred it? Keep the women at the club? At arm’s length? Well, it used to be.

Angelina smiled at him. “That sounds great…Marc.” He could tell she didn’t know how to address him outside the bedroom, so he smiled to let her know she could call him by his name now. Later he’d make it clear she didn’t need to use the title unless they were in a scene or playing. He didn’t want more than that.

“After you eat this, you’ll see why I need cooking lessons,” Karla said, as she pulled a covered dish out of the oven.

“Karla’s tuna-noodle casserole is wonderful,” Adam said. “So’s her broccoli casserole.”

She smiled at him before turning her attention back to the dish and removing the lid. “Yes, and you have had it at least twice a week since I got here, because I don’t know how to make anything else, other than brownies.”

“Cooking’s easy. All you have to do is know how to read a recipe. How did you learn to cook those two recipes?”

Marc saw a look of pain cross Karla’s face before she forced a smile back onto her face and answered. “My mom’s the baker in the family and taught me how to make the peanut-butter brownies for Adam and my brother while they were deployed.” She glanced over at Adam and smiled, then continued on a near whisper. “My brother Ian taught me to make the tuna casserole on a visit to New York last year.”