Wounded Angel (The Earth Angels) - By Stacy Gail Page 0,23
have peeled the skin off his bones. “Yeah. They have big shoes.”
Even to his ears his laughter sounded predatory. “I like how you have an answer for everything. It makes me want to trip you up.”
“Better men than you have tried. Now do me a favor and walk around a bit, just to reassure me that I didn’t cripple you.”
He did as instructed, circling the little room while she backed up to press against the sink. “Feels great. Professional, even.”
The room was so small he was able to hear her swiftly indrawn breath. “That’s because I am a professional.”
Definitely an answer for everything. Like that, his indecision vanished. “I must admit I am curious about you, Miss Ella Little. You seem to have a perfect Chicago accent—except when you don’t, and a hint of the South creeps in when you’re distracted or upset. You’re over-the-top wary, you have your friends here at the gym watching over you like over-protective parents, and I believe you were one thin hair away from taking me out just now with all the cold-blooded precision of someone who’s not afraid to kill in order to survive.”
He came to a stop just before her. There had to be something wrong with him, for him to get turned on by her dangerous stillness. “I’m trained in self-defense, Nate. That’s why I teach it.”
“And the effortless wrapping of my knee? You did that on total auto-pilot.”
“Do you have a point?”
“You’re certified in sports medicine, true. But this was too good of a job you did while holding a conversation and not even looking at what you were doing. It was second nature to you.”
A fine line of perspiration appeared along her dark hairline. “Who are you?”
“The question is, who are you? Are you really Ella Little, or could you possibly be...Gabriella Littlefield?”
For a moment he thought she might faint. Then without warning, the heel of her hand shot out toward his solar plexus. On instinct he dodged it, her movement drawing out in his eyes until she was caught in slow motion while he rocketed around the punch that would have otherwise caved him in two. Her look of stunned dismay registered even as he used his momentum to spin toward the door, which he opened with a flourish. No need to make her feel trapped now that he had her well and truly pinned.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Something broke free inside him, a wild thing that raged his triumph as he regarded the woman he’d feared he’d never find without his inner compass. “We can do this a couple of ways, Ella.”
Her face was so tight her skin stretched over her cheekbones and her bloodless lips pulled back in a snarl. “We’re not doing it any way. Get the hell out of here.”
“Can’t do that. One,” he added when she took an ominous step toward him, no doubt to try and persuade him to leave by any means necessary, “you can continue to try to beat the shit out of me, which I hope you realize by now would be a complete waste of time. Or two, you can calm down. Once you do that, we can have a nice, quiet chat over a cup of coffee or an early dinner someplace public so you’ll feel comfortable and not threatened by me. You choose the place—on me, of course.”
The universe seemed to quiver with the rage that boiled around her like a living thing. Her hands curled into fists, her paper-white face a frozen death mask torn between fury and an anguished agony he couldn’t begin to comprehend. A stab of remorse cut him; he’d brought this to her doorstep. But there was no getting around it. This had to be done.
Then she nodded once, a rusty jerk of her head that was so stiff it all but shrieked in silent pain. “Fine. There’s a restaurant around the corner within walking distance, so let’s just get this done. But make no mistake—after today I never want to lay eyes on you again.”
Chapter Six
Antony’s Ristorante was all but empty, as most nine-to-five wage-slaves were just beginning to shuffle their way out the door. Settled in a booth across the aisle from a mahogany bar populated by a bored bartender idly flipping through channels on the plasma TV overhead, Ella clamped her jaw tight and tried not to throw up. She didn’t want to be here. With all her heart she wished she was safely tucked away