woman she was. He was bent on seeing her as the teenage sister of his best friend—a friend he’d shared the woman he’d married with.
“I’m well aware that you’re a man used to getting your way. But this time, I’m afraid you’re destined for disappointment. You wouldn’t like my answer anyway, so it’s better to end tonight on a more positive note.”
He stared at her in utter disbelief. When she started to move toward the door, he stepped in front of her, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Oh hell no, Angel girl. That isn’t the way things are going to work. You have a hell of a lot to answer for.”
“I don’t answer to you, Micah,” she said evenly. “You don’t want anything from me. You’re not ready to offer me anything. When that changes, we’ll talk.”
She glimpsed his astonishment as she scooped up her keys and headed for the door.
“Angel, damn it!”
She opened the door and hurried into the night, ignoring his command for her to get her ass back inside. She didn’t stop until she got to her car, and she refused to look up, knowing she’d see Micah standing there.
Doors locked, she cranked the engine and backed from the parking spot as Micah pounded on her window. With a quick glance in his direction to make sure she wasn’t going to hit him, she accelerated out of the lot and left him standing in the dark, staring after her.
CHAPTER 4
Angelina let herself into her hotel room and tossed her keys onto the bed. The interior was dark and somewhat gloomy, with only a dully lit lamp to offer illumination. It certainly wasn’t the best of accommodations, but this would be the last place someone would look for her. At least she hoped.
She trudged into the bathroom and turned the hot water on in the sink. A shower would feel good, but she didn’t want to erase Micah’s touch or to relieve the slight heat that was still present from his whip.
She washed her face, brushed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. A glance in the mirror told her she looked tired. Hollow-eyed and worried.
She stripped out of her clothes, left them on the floor of the bathroom, and walked nude back to where her suitcase lay on the bed. She shoved it off, not bothering to pull on a shirt. Bed was calling her name, and she didn’t waste any time answering.
She lay on her belly, letting the draft from the rattling air conditioner blow over her back. Dreamily, she closed her eyes and relived those moments before Micah discovered who she was, when for a while she’d been his to command.
He’d wanted her, wanted her desperately. She’d seen the lust in his eyes, felt the tremble of his hands on her flesh. The barely restrained power she’d sensed boiling within him had been like a drug to her. Addictive, alluring. Intoxicating.
She’d always known how it would be with Micah, and it seemed she’d spent most of her life waiting and wanting. She’d entertained herself with vivid fantasies of him capturing her, of him forcing her to his will. His possession.
She shivered, her belly clenching as she remembered every single sound he’d made, his breathing, his words. His lips on hers, his taste. How he felt.
Longing didn’t begin to cover the magnitude of her feelings. She needed him as she’d never needed anyone else. David and Hannah were family. David was her brother, and Hannah was as much a sister to her as she could be. But Micah? From the beginning, she’d separated Micah into a whole different category. One forbidden to her but no less tempting.
If it would bring David and Hannah back, she’d give up any hope of having Micah. Micah had loved Hannah deeply, and as much as Angelina herself loved Micah, she’d stand on the outside looking in forever if it meant having her family again.
But they were gone. She and Micah were left. She knew him like no one else did. She knew his secrets, his desires, the man behind the easygoing façade. She could give him what he needed, but would he ever decide she was what he wanted?
“No guarantees in life, Angel baby,” she whispered, smiling sadly as David’s words floated from her lips.
A sound at her window made her freeze. Then she laughed and buried her face in her pillow. What a jumpy moron she was. She was on the fourth floor of a shabby hotel. Who’d