Page 154 of Never Fall for an Angel

Did he leave me here with no intentions of ever coming back?

Surely not. His family is here. His home is here.

It doesn’t make it any easier, though, as a few days bleeds into a week with no word from him.

I can’t escape the pit opening wider and wider in my stomach with each passing day.

So, I sit in his window, holding his ring and staring out over his property and wonder what the outcome of all this will be.

Paulina and Collin aren’t telling me anything, but I know he’s gone looking for his brother. Thinking about Christian in the same world as the man who raped me feels like fire ants are crawling over my skin, let alone the same room.

Thinking back to our last night together . . . how he’d held me, it’s impossible to escape the gut-wrenching possibility that he may not come back.

Could I live with that? A world without Christian Cross, the only man I’ve ever loved?

Something tells me, judging by the heavy weight settling in my chest, it would be impossible.

On day eight, post-Christian’s departure, I’m showering when I hear a thud from the room outside and pause in the middle of shampooing my hair.

“Phantom?”

“Get off the bed!”

I jump at the sound of the voice and Phantom’s low growl from just outside the bathroom door. Naked as possible and dripping in water, I rip my robe from the rung on the wall and throw the door open, covering myself as I lock eyes with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Her sleek and shining dark hair hangs down to her waist in big waves, perfect like glass. Her pale blue eyes regard me with confusion and outrage, assessing me wrapped in nothing but a robe and still dripping wet.

“Phantom,” I snap when he growls again, positioning himself between her and me.

“That mutt was on the bed.”

“He’s a wolf, actually.” Phantom lays down on the floor between the woman, and I press myself back against the wall in an effort to hide at least some of my naked body.

“Who are you?”

I pause. Did she really just come in here while I was showering and have the audacity to ask whatI’mdoing?

“Who are you?” I fire back.

“Talia Taylor,” she says as if it should be obvious.

“Can I help you, Talia?” I reply icily. I only feel a little guilty about my attitude. I mean, she barged in on me, after all.

“Why are you in my room?”

“You’re room?” I pause, a sickening sensation sliding down my room.

“Yes,my room,” she snaps back, her gaze drifting over me where I’m still cowered against the wall with my robe covering me. “Don’t tell me they let the housekeepers shower in here? This is supposed to be family only.”

“Mila is family,” Bella says, stepping into the room, clearly pissed off at having been woken up in the middle of the night. “What are you doing here, Talia?”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Talia muses, poking the end of her nose with a long, stiletto nail. “I came for the Founder’s Day banquet, obviously—you know I never miss it. This is my suite.”

“This isChristian’ssuite,” Bella corrects. “You’ll be staying at the lodge this year.”

“The lodge?” Talia scoffs. “But I’ve always stayed here.”

“Mila’s staying here. As I said, we have a room booked for you in the lodge.”

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