Nobody's Angel (9 page)

The conversation turned to her childhood and flowed naturally. She told him about summers spent with her grandmother in Sicily. Her eyes lit up. He envied her being part of a big, extended and close-knit family. Being an only child, his had been pretty lonely. His parents had followed one pipeline project site after another, leaving him to fend for himself. His shop teacher in high school had taken him under his wing and introduced him to woodworking. Then he’d met an art instructor in college who had let Luke use the woodworking shop in his garage. When he’d met Maggie, he abandoned his studies and his woodworking for a while. But he’d managed to graduate.

He couldn’t keep his mind from comparing Angel to his wife. Both women knew what they wanted and went after it. But Maggie tended to be more introverted, interested in her research and not much else. He’d tagged along with a camera on her forays into the wilderness to help photograph her finds. She liked his artist’s eye.

Angel leaned across the table and touched his hand. “You seem a million miles away.”

Luke cringed. Damn. He’d spaced on her. Embarrassed, he sat up and said, “Sorry. Thinking about my wife.”

She glanced at his ring and pulled her hand back as if bitten.
Damn
. He’d forgotten he even wore the wedding band. At first, he’d kept it on because he didn’t really want any more women offering him sex to “cure” his grief. Then it had just become a habit.

Maybe even a talisman. On every rescue mission, he felt Maggie with him, guiding him to the lost and injured. He didn’t know why, but he felt a sudden need to tell Angel about Maggie.

“My wife died seven years ago.”

Her gasp of surprise caught him off guard. “My God, I’m so sorry!”

He shouldn’t have been so blunt, but wasn’t sure how to ease into the topic. “It was an…accident.” He didn’t really want to say anything more about what type of accident. But now what?

With a burst of nervous energy, Luke leaned forward. “Let’s give that asshole something to look at, Angel. Play a game of pool with me.”

He stood up to play it through. She deserved better than the deal she’d gotten from that jerk across the room, whatever he’d done to hurt her. Not only was she sexy as hell, but sweet and beautiful. He loved the way she just plain seemed to enjoy life.

Luke reached out to help her up out of the booth. He called the game. “Eight Ball.” Ignoring her ex, even though they had to walk right past him to get to the pool table, he watched her go over to the wall and choose her pool stick while he racked up the balls and handed her the cue ball. “Lady first.”

“Stripes,” she called, then proceeded to drop three striped balls in rapid succession into the table’s pockets.

Hot damn
. The woman was competitive. Game on.

“Luke, I think you’ve met your match,” Marc teased as he approached them.

As she lined up a shot with the thirteen ball, Luke found himself riveted by the view of her curvaceous hips. “No problem. I’m enjoying the view.”

She glanced behind her and met his gaze, blushing.

“Can’t match my view,” Marc countered.

Luke watched Angel look up at Marc, who zeroed in on her chest as she bent over the table to line up the shot. Marc had always loved women’s tits. Her dress didn’t show much skin, but the material fit her like a second skin.

Apparently they’d flustered her with their attention, because she made her move too soon and dropped one of his solids into the side pocket instead.

“Play fair, boys.” Then a giggle burst forth and he saw a sparkle in her big brown eyes.

Luke studied the table and saw she sure hadn’t left him any easy shots. “All’s fair in love and Eight Ball, darlin’,” he said, brushing her cheek with a kiss before he stepped up to the table. Damn.

Shaking off the feel of her soft cheek on his lips, he somehow managed to sink four solids in a row, two with one stroke and two single shots. She must have realized the game was getting away from her, because Angel sidled up to him and let her fingernails dance lightly down his back.

Luke scratched his next shot. He stood and turned toward her. “Careful there, Angel. You’re playing with fire now. I play to win.”

He couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms. Her pool stick lodged between them, but still he felt her heart beating against his chest. She looked up at him, expecting him to kiss her.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was because of Marc…or Maggie. Instead, he bent down to nuzzle her neck and whispered, “He’s fuming, darlin’. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you this entire game.”

Chapter Five

Angelina had difficulty figuring out who Luke was talking about at first, so distracted was she by his warm lips burning against the pulse near the column of her neck. Electrical pulses ricocheted throughout her body.

Then she came back to reality. She did not have two sexy men making advances at her. This was just a show for Allen. She’d do well to remember that. She’d almost expected him to kiss her a moment ago. Angelina pulled away reluctantly, took a deep breath, and got back into character. She chalked her stick and sashayed to the opposite side of the table, leaned forward to give Allen the full rear view Luke had enjoyed moments ago, and lined up a nearly impossible bank shot.

Marc kicked their performance up another notch by following her around the table. Just as she prepared to strike the cue ball, she felt the heat of his body behind her seconds before he pressed his pelvis against her hips and leaned his entire chest over her back.

“Would you like me to show you how to make that shot,
bella
?” he whispered, his whiskers tickling her ear.

Mustering every ounce of strength she could to keep from melting into a puddle under him, Angelina wiggled her hips, feeling a definite bulge against her butt.
Mio Dio
, it was heating up in here! A bead of sweat trickled between her breasts.

“Not to worry, Marc. I can’t miss.” Where had that bravado come from? She took a deep breath and gave it her best shot, despite being pressed under the steel-hard muscles of one of the two sexiest men she’d ever met.

Mio Dio, yes!
She stood and faced them. “And that, boys, is how it’s done.”

“Hot damn, Angel. That took skill, given the distraction you had to deal with.”

Angelina saw an expression of envy on Luke’s face before he smiled to mask it. The man had missed his calling. He should have been a theatre major. Extricating herself from Marc, she set up her next shot. This should be the last. She wished the game didn’t have to end so soon.

When she checked the trajectory of the ball, Luke placed his hands around her waist and turned her to face him. Her heart thudded against his chest. She looked up at him, a mixture of uncertainty and excitement quivering in her belly.

Angelina reminded herself to breathe as he bent down and brushed his lips across hers. She sucked in a shallow breath and Luke teased his tongue between her lips. Not deep, bold strokes. Just playful forays. Her lips tingled deliciously.

No one had ever kissed her in such a playful way before. She felt her insides clench, followed by a throbbing in her clit. Too soon, he pulled away, but the wink he gave her reminded her that this was all an act for Allen. She forced a smile to her lips and tamped down her disappointment. This roller coaster ride of emotional highs and lows was exhausting her.

“Your move,
cara
,” Marc reminded her.

She turned to him and saw another hint of jealousy. They both were very good at playing up the rivalry bit. But tonight was only make-believe. A fairy tale. She didn’t really have two men vying for her affections.

Not really feeling as interested in the game as before, she returned her attention to the table, took what should have been an easy shot, and missed.

Angelina stepped back to let Luke have access to the table and to put some distance between both of them so she could catch her breath. Even though it was just for show, having two men strumming her like a
mandolina
felt good for her ego. If Allen had been half as attentive toward her, maybe she’d have let him do whatever he wanted sexually—her four overprotective brothers be damned.

No, she had to admit Allen had never turned her on like this. He’d just been…safe. Or so she and her brothers had thought. Wondering what it was she’d seen in him, she glanced toward his table and found him watching her. The expression on his face scared her. Lust, sure. But a seething anger simmered just below the surface. She shuddered.

Stunned at the vehemence in his expression, she turned away, only half watching as Luke cleared the table of every remaining solid, including the eight ball.

Feeling sad that the game was over, in more ways than one, she went to the wall and hung up her stick. “Well played, Luke,” she said.

Having Marc’s body pressed against her and Luke’s tongue playing with her lips had shaken her to the core. If she’d been alone with either man, she wouldn’t have told him to stop. Before she embarrassed herself by asking for something they weren’t interested in, she’d best remember this was all a show.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, she walked back to the booth. Her feet hurt again. Funny how sometimes she didn’t notice them at all. She guessed it depended on her focus. Luke passed her on the way to the men’s room and she saw Marc head over to the bar, probably to order more drinks.

No sooner had she sat down than a familiar voice said, “Angie, it’s good to see you out tonight. How’ve you been?”

Angelina’s lungs constricted. She’d known Allen would approach her at some point tonight, but weariness had lowered her defenses. Taking as deep a breath as she could, she faced the man who had tried to break her, as he had put it that night during the flogging.

“Fine.” She hoped the chill in her voice conveyed to him he wasn’t wanted here. She looked at him, wondering why she’d dated him so long. His blond hair and tanned skin gave the appearance of an outdoor enthusiast, but she knew he paid for his tan at a salon across town. His hawkish gaze once made her insides quiver, she thought because of sexual attraction. Now the fierceness in his expression only caused her to shrink away in revulsion. He intimidated her, as much as she hated to admit it. Her hands began to shake. The man had shattered Angelina’s trust and taken advantage of her when she was at her most vulnerable. Unforgivable.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get a moment alone with you.”

“What do you want, Allen?” When she heard her voice quaver, she took a deep breath and continued, “I have nothing to say to you. Not that you’d listen to me anyway.” She’d always believe he’d ignored her safe word. No way had she left the word unspoken.

“Look, honey, that night…you just misunderstood…”

“Oh, I understood perfectly, Allen. For days afterward. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Dismissing him, she picked up her wineglass and drained it. Her heart pounded so loudly, she was certain he could hear.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Allen’s hand coming toward her, but before she could even jump back, a bigger hand with long, slim fingers grabbed his wrist in midair.

“You heard the lady,” Marc said.

Allen yanked his hand out of Marc’s grip, glaring at him. She felt the intensity of his hatred, but Marc never flinched. Allen took a step back.

“If you ever put your hands on her again, I’ll break them,” Marc didn’t so much make a threat as a promise.

Allen stood up straighter, coming short of Marc’s height by half a foot. His gaze shot daggers at the taller man, then gave him the once over. “Do I know you?”

“Doubt it.”

Marc grinned at him in an almost deadly way. The level of testosterone around her had reached critical mass. Someone was going to get hurt. And, as much as she detested Allen and knew he would come out on the short end, so to speak, she didn’t want Rico to have any trouble with the law at his bar.

“Marc…”

Allen looked down at her. “If I’d known you were into threesomes, Angie…”

She winced, but before she could form a response, Marc’s hand snaked out and grabbed him by the throat.

“Apologize to the lady before I mess up that face you seem so fond of.” His voice remained calm, but lethal.

Angelina’s heart raced as Marc held him. Allen sputtered for air, his face turning red, eyes bulging from a lack of blood to the head. Eventually, he held up his hands in defeat and Marc released his hold on his throat…somewhat.

“Hey, guys, I don’t want any trouble in here,” Rico said. Angelina hadn’t seen him approach them, so focused was she on Allen and Marc. “Allen, I think you need to leave.”

“Not yet,” Marc said, his voice as smooth as pulled taffy. “He owes Angelina an apology.”

“Marc, it’s not necessary…”
Please just let him go away
. She didn’t handle confrontation very well, especially public ones. Luke slid into the booth and sat across from her. When her hands began to shake, he took both between his and held them tight. She smiled her thanks, her lips quivering.

“Oh, it is quite necessary,
cara.
” Marc’s gaze captured hers and she felt her heart jump into her throat. Though outwardly calm, his eyes were spitting fire. Thankfully, his rage wasn’t directed at her. “No man speaks that way to a lady.”

Marc’s gaze returned to Allen, who straightened his shirt where Marc had crumpled the collar in his hands. He kept his focus in Marc’s direction. “I’m sorry, Angie.”

“Don’t tell me,” Marc said. He nodded his head in her direction. “Tell her.”

Angelina’s face burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Marc. Something warmed in the pit of her stomach as he defended her. He’d come to her rescue. She couldn’t ignore how incredibly turned on she was now.

“I’m sorry for what I said, Angie.”

Angelina refused to even look at the weasel. She nodded, “Apology accepted,” but her gaze remained fixed on Marc’s.

“Now, get the hell out of here. If you ever come near her again…” Marc began, and then let Allen use his own imagination. When the bastard didn’t move away fast enough, Marc took a step toward him and Allen stepped back.