Wounded Angel (The Earth Angels) - By Stacy Gail Page 0,29

darkest depths of hell. “Not again.”

Chapter Seven

The light of the stove’s clock cast a pale glow over the tiny, dated kitchenette.

12:57

Alone, wrapped in a bulky pink robe and llama-covered blanket socks to ward off the chill, Ella stuck her tongue out at the clock before reaching for the light switch. One in the freaking morning. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe she’d never have a sleepless night due to Charles Rainier, but she’d thought all the worries over his hideous family were a thing of the past. It was enough to make her consider banging her head against the wall to knock herself out.

If only she’d hidden herself better, she’d be sleeping like a baby right now.

A grimace wrinkled her nose as she got the gas burner going under a kettle. Maybe relocating to Chicago hadn’t been the brightest move she’d ever made, but she doubted it would have changed the outcome. Nate da Luca was the kind of man who would have found her even if she’d buried herself in a subterranean lair, under a glacier, at the very ends of the earth. Maybe it was the unwavering intensity of his gaze, or his confidence that bordered on swagger. Whatever it was, she was certain about one thing—nothing would have stopped him from finding her. Nothing.

As she snagged a box of chamomile tea out of the pantry, Ella paused to glance at her hand. It appeared as it always did—winter pale and fragile-boned. Yet long after Nate had held it, the nerves continued to tingle as if branded by invisible fire. The reaction baffled her now as much as it had when his lips had first touched her skin.

Those lips. Amazing, how they could look so hard yet be so mesmerizingly seductive.

She flicked her hand as if shaking off water droplets, trying to erase the phantom sensation. The ugly truth behind his attention was no longer a secret, so she shouldn’t still be hung up on him. He hadn’t been interested in her in any way other than finding Gabriella Littlefield. It didn’t matter that she’d liked the way his dark eyes lingered on her, and she sure as hell shouldn’t be wondering what his mouth might feel like beneath her own. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d shove Nate da Luca out of her head with the rest of yesterday’s news.

Yeah. If she had an ounce of sense. Talk about a mighty big if.

The fretful whistling of the kettle pulled her around to the stove. But even as she curled up with her mug on the living room’s floral couch with its comfortable, secondhand sag, her brain refused to let the image of Nate stray too far. Maybe it was because thinking about him was easier than tackling the thorny subject of what Claudine Pierpont-Rainier had left her. Or maybe she was simply lonely. Whatever the case, the stubborn man refused to disembark her train of thought. Which was stupid; she wasn’t even sure she’d see him again.

Her brows pulled together, and she absently rubbed a hand at the nagging hollow deep in her chest. He was probably gone now, winging his way back to Atlanta and chalking up another win in his career column and no doubt already forgetting she existed. That was exactly what she should do instead of sitting there mooning over him. Aside from probably never seeing him again, the man was a virtual stranger. True, she knew he’d had corrective surgery on his back as a newborn, he’d worked as a cop in Atlanta before becoming a private investigator, and he was an unabashed fan of the University of Georgia Bulldogs. But she had no idea if he was a fan because he’d attended college there, or why he’d left the police force to join the private sector, or what his birth defect had been.

But...she wanted to.

Starting bright and early tomorrow morning she’d find out, she decided, draining the mug and setting it on the wobbly coffee table she’d rescued from the garbage man. Life had taught her some hard but invaluable lessons, and one of those lessons was to make sure at the end of the day there were no regrets. If thoughts of Nate da Luca were enough to keep her awake at night, then he was a regret waiting to happen.

And besides, he owed her, damn it. She wasn’t about to let him go after he’d dropped the poisoned name of Rainier back into her life after all