Page 19 of Wicked Angel

I could never tell what he was thinking, but I found myself wanting more and more to know what lay beyond his closed mind. The night at the restaurant was fresh in my memory—almost like a haunting nightmare, except … I hadn’t exactly resisted as hard as I’d thought I would. His fingers had been expert as they’d plied me open and penetrated my pussy. He’d made me feel things, sensations that noboyever had.

My minuscule level of experience was nothing compared to the apparent knowledge he had of the female body. He’d played me like an instrument. Plucking at my strings with all of the competence of a master. I’d have been an idiot if I didn’t at least admit that he was intriguing to me.

God, even after a few days of thinking about the deal my father had struck with him, I still couldn’t believe it. Ever since, too, Jackie had been in her own bubble of silent and petty rage. She acted as if this was all something Iwantedwhen that was the furthest thing from the truth. My father didn’t even seem to care much that he was ruining all of my well-laid plans. The sickening sensation of betrayal flared, and I bit the inside of my lip to keep my face flat. I was being watched, constantly under scrutiny, not just by my father and his guards, but now Gaven too. The thought only made the emotions build and I was struggling to keep a hold of myself, so I forced my attention on the nearby storefronts.

Don’t lose your calm,I commanded myself, taking a deep breath.You can play the part.At the very least, until I made the ultimate decision on what I wanted to do. If I wanted to follow through with this or if I could manage to make my getaway. With the silly pep talk over, I felt the tumultuous emotions inside of me ease just as a bright array of pink roses caught my attention. Following the sight of it across the street, I was hyper-aware that Gaven and company were trailing behind. In the back of my mind, I was watching them even as I moved toward the flowers. I wondered if I could grab a few to take back to the house or even ask the florist for samples.What kind of flowers do I even like?The silly, simple question made me pause as I stared at the array of bulbs.

For some reason, it seemed like such a ridiculous question, but it made the image of myself dressed in white, walking down the aisle on my father’s arm burn brightly in my mind. It could happen, I realized. I could actually end up following through with it all and marrying Gaven Belmonte.Would it be such a bad thing?I asked myself. I didn’t know him well enough to know what he would expect. An heir, for sure, apparently. But after that … would it be a decent relationship? My father wouldn’t ever force me to marry someone who would hurt me. That much I knew for sure.

Over the years, I had tried to separate myself from my family, burying myself in daydreams and passions, into my studies. Yet … at that time, that had been my only focus. There were no real hobbies or likes, hell, evendislikesthat I’d discovered about myself. While Jackie had been learning the family ropes to become a perfect mold of our father, I’d become the exact opposite. Turned to anything that wasn’t my family with such intensity, that now I wondered if I really knew anything about myself at all outside of the future ‘what ifs’ that would now never happen.

Nausea rolled over me as I brushed my fingers over the soft petals; four weeks seemed too short. That was how long they’d given me. Not only to get married but to relearn everything I’d ever known. Maybe it was something about the realization I’d had about myself or about the way that I, again, felt Gaven's gaze on my spine—ever penetrating—but perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to marry young? My father wouldn't even have considered him if he was going to just lock me up after the deed was done. I was just a tool, I knew, to hand over the Price empire to someone my father trusted, and if he was happy enough knowing that I'd be cared for regardless of what happened to him, maybe I should just accept it.

There was still online schooling. Maybe if I just shut my eyes and pretended that Gaven was nothing more than a businessman, things would be—

My thought was cut short as the sound of tires shrieking against the pavement reached me a split second before a loud burst went off—a car backfiring or perhaps a wheel popping? The back of my heel clipped the sidewalk, and as I stumbled and tried to right myself again, something whizzed past me a moment before a motorcycle tore up the shoulder of the street, damn near popping onto the sidewalk.

"Angel!" My head turned at the sound of my name being yelled, except it was too late. The man riding the motorcycle swung his arm out, and my eyes zeroed in on the gun in his hand with realization. That sound earlier had been a gunshot—one intended to kill me, and now he was going to ensure he didn't miss again.

My lips parted on a scream, but it got caught up in my throat as someone slammed into me from the side. The pavement rushed up to greet me, and I closed my eyes tightly as my hip hit the sidewalk and then we were rolling. Body on top of body, black coat swirling in a mess as legs hit mine, and we tumbled out of the range of the motorcycle as it sped up the road away from us.

Heart pounding, head aching, my eyes sprung open again, only to find myself staring straight up into the face of the man I'd been thinking about all afternoon. The harsh set of his jaw was taut as he ground his teeth together, glaring first at me and then to the side as he pushed off the ground and off of me.

Just before Gaven’s body leveraged away from mine, though, I'd felt it—the length of him inside his slacks. Long and thick.

What kind of woman did it make me that I was thinking of nothing but my future husband's dick when really … I'd just almost died? Maybe I'd sustained brain damage on the way down.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Gaven barked as several guards came rushing up only seconds later. "You were supposed to be watching our surroundings! Your incompetence nearly got her killed. Get the SUV. We're leaving.Now."

No one could manage a word as he began snapping orders and growling at everyone approaching us. Almost as an afterthought, Gaven reached down and helped me back to my feet. I wobbled on one leg, gasping as I nearly went down once more. Glancing down, I realized that one of my low heels—a choice on Gertie’s part rather than mine—had snapped in the scuffle and I was uneven.

"For fuck's sake," Gaven muttered, and I briefly wondered if he was about to turn his anger and frustration on me. Before I could utter an apology, however—for what, though, I wasn't even sure—he turned and swept me into his arms.

Blinking, I settled against him without a second thought, feeling small against his broad chest and muscled arms.I’m definitely brain-damaged,I thought to myself as my arms twined around his neck. An SUV came screeching up to the corner and he hustled me toward it, sliding in and letting someone shut the door behind us. Only then did he look down at me, and surprisingly there was no anger when he spoke. Instead, there was only concern.

"Are you okay, Angel?"

"Yes, of course." The words came out before I was even really sure. Ifeltokay. A little dazed, but I wasn’t harmed.

Gaven narrowed his eyes on me as the SUV pulled away from the sidewalk and slid back into traffic. The driver was a known employee of my father’s and remained silent as he drove. His companion in the passenger seat, however, glanced back.

"I want a physician standing by when we arrive back at the house," Gaven commanded.

"Of course, sir," the man replied.

"I don't need that," I said quickly as my mind swam with shock. "I told you I'm fine."

Gaven's hands tightened around me when I moved to release him, and his head jerked down. "I want you looked over by a professional. You were nearly shot to death; there'snofucking way you're fine."

Shot to death … yeah, he was right. I'd nearly been killed. Someone had shot at me and damn near took my head off speeding past on that motorcycle. That thought catapulted me back in time to another day when I’d almost died. Another shooter. Another man who had saved me. My head lifted and I stared at Gaven as if seeing him again for the first time.

No,I realized. Not another man. The same man.

“Angel?”

“You…” My voice escaped me. He’d saved me seven years ago—at my mother’s funeral. Did he remember? If so, why hadn’t he said anything? Confusion fogged my mind. I felt cold. I pressed a hand to my forehead. I didn’t know what happened seven years ago—all I knew was that after several months of tight security, my father had suddenly relaxed. As if his anger had dispersed. No, that wasn’t possible. He’d loved my mother so much that he had sworn to never forgive the ones responsible for her death. The only excuse left was that … the ones who’d killed her were dead.

Did that mean Gaven had done as I’d asked? Had he found them? Killed them? My head throbbed.

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