with Angela until the creep had been caught. If this went to shit, it was all on him.
Jake breathed out a ragged breath. Dissection of his piss-poor handling of the situation would have to wait for another day. The most important thing right now was making sure Angela stayed alive.
This was as far from their carefully controlled scenario as it could be. He had planned to be with her every step of the way. And despite his anger at her for disobeying him, he would back her up. When this was over, they’d damn well have a discussion about her following orders. For now, he had to trust that she could handle this. He had no other choice.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m headed up to my apartment. Stairs or elevator?”
“Stairs. I don’t want you on the elevator with him.”
“Okay.”
“Go silent. No talking to me after this.”
“K.” She paused a beat and then added, “See you soon.”
Hell, he hoped so. Horns blared as impatient drivers let their displeasure be heard. Jake’s total focus was on the sounds coming from his cellphone. Angela’s breathing, a door opened, then closed. Footsteps, light ones and then, though distant, he heard the distinct clop of heavier feet. Then the most ominous sound of all—a man’s voice.
Never had Jake felt more helpless than to listen as the woman he’d come to care about more than he’d ever thought possible was attacked by a serial killer.
Chapter Sixteen
As he followed the tall, beautiful Angela to her apartment, he smiled to himself. Everything was working perfectly now. How could he have doubted his Dark Angel?
Three days ago, roses in hand, he had arrived at her apartment building in London, ready to begin their courtship. What he observed was his Dark Angel leaving with one of the mammoth men who had rescued her from the over-amorous drunk at Club Drago. The same man he had seen her shopping with the day before. Their car was packed with luggage. He had followed them to the train station and watched, devastated, as she and the man boarded a train for Paris. Only by sheer will had he not returned to his home and destroyed everything.
Fortunately, good reason had prevailed. He had returned to the toy store where she had purchased an electric train set and dollhouse the day before. He’d been preoccupied, so careful to hide in the shadows from her behemoth male companion, that he had paid little note when she’d asked that the gifts be delivered to Paris.
It had taken little effort to obtain her name and address. After subduing the store clerk and tying him up, in minutes he had accessed the paid accounts. His Dark Angel’s name was Angela Delvecchio. Then came the realization of her gift to him. Because of their phenomenal connection, she was already making his life easier without his even asking. She had known he needed to leave London and was simply leading him to a new home.
The most time-consuming aspect had been making a major move in such a short amount of time. Used to traveling with large quantities of wardrobe changes, hiding a young woman in a secret compartment was child’s play. No one paid attention to an elderly man struggling with giant trunks other than offers of assistance. He loved that there were still polite people in the world. Courtesy often seemed to be a lost art.
Now he had the blonde woman with him and would soon introduce her to his new companion. He didn’t question why he had to take his Dark Angel now, at this very moment. It was a compulsion and he’d learned over the years never to deny his needs. When he was younger, he had warred with himself over satisfying his desires. He had been content because he’d had all he needed. Then when he had lost everything, the door to those long-suppressed desires became unchained. The needs that had been simmering for years were unfettered, set free from their bonds. This was his calling. Since coming to that realization, he had taken what he wanted and was a happier man for it.
The reward for his hard work was almost at hand. He had found a place in Reims, about four hours outside Paris. The mansion was old but well preserved, the atmosphere perfect for his needs. Everything was coming together as if destiny had taken over.
And now for the plat de résistance.
He approached her quietly. “Pardon moi,” he said meekly, friendly.
His Dark Angel turned; eyes