My Angel (10 page)

The big man rode from his hiding place, a look of apprehension in his eyes. "Yes." His voice was hard.

"I want you to go to
Cheyenne
."

"Now?"

Devil looked to the mountains. "Yes," he said. "I want my private car prepared for the journey east."

"I don't think this is wise."

"Perhaps not. But it's what I want. If Allah is smiling down on me, I'll have company. Don't spare any expense. And Misha, I know you will come up with a thousand and one reasons to stay. Don't. You won't change my mind."

Misha's shoulders stiffened, and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. "All right," he said. "I'll leave as soon as I get back to the hotel."

~ * ~

Angela carried the tray along the outskirts of the opulent ballroom. Scantily clad ladies danced and whirled on the parquet floor in the arms of the gentlemen here for the auction. Greed, women, and the ready availability of opium seduced the wealthy men of
Denver
to this spot.

She had learned a lot the last few days--too much, she'd thought at times. The ladies would drink expensive champagne, flirting all the while with gentlemen who had wives at home waiting for them. Then they'd eventually lead the eager men up the stairs covered with Oriental carpeting and into one of the fancy bedrooms. There were twenty bedrooms on the second floor, and most nights every one was in use by midnight.

Lottie had been kind to her, had told her what to expect from her first gentleman. Lottie's father had sold her and her younger sister to a bordello. Lottie had been thirteen years old, her sister twelve. At thirteen, her sister died in the whorehouse, birthing a stillborn child. From there Lottie had tried to make it on her own, only to find that without a man, she couldn't earn enough money to eat or rent a room in a respectable boardinghouse. No longer seeing the women who worked in the bordello in terms of good and evil, Angela felt her heart go out to them and the events in their lives that had brought some of them to this point.

Now as she walked up the stairs, she felt a steady gaze upon her. For a moment a sense of unease ruffled through her, but that vanished, to be replaced by a strange quivering sensation. Only Devil had ever made her feel that way.

Her nerves stretched taut, she whirled around and searched the room for him, but saw no one. He was here. He had to be--and she'd find him and twist his heart out if he thought to buy the services of one of these ladies. She reminded herself she was here for a reason, she had to stay near Emma and make sure nothing happened to her.

Yet with each step, her breathing quickened, her heart pounded. It wasn't the climb that had her panting and her knees wobbling. Devil watched her.

She smoothed then tugged at her dress, so different from the sweet yellow froth of material and the petticoats she'd worn the day they met. Now her breasts pushed invitingly from the low-cut bodice of exquisite red silk. The high cut of the hem showed a length of her leg she wanted only Devil to see.

Once she'd hoped to tempt a devil. Now she felt underdressed and wanton.

He would think she worked here. Angela sucked in her breath and pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She had a job to do.

Empowered by the knowledge he watched her, would protect her if necessary, she strode up the long flight of stairs to Emma's room. She wanted to see to Emma then Devil, but not in that order.

Devil had some hard and fast explanations to give her. Despite what he'd done to Emma, Angela would forgive him if he said the right words. Lord, but she didn't know what to think of Devil Blackmoor.

"Angel..." Devil whispered, stepping quickly from the shadowed alcove he'd been standing in and taking the pitcher from her hands. "May I help?" he asked his grin almost as broad as his shoulders.

She moved back, her smile of greeting wavering. "You," she said, suddenly shy and very breathless, her heart in her throat. She hadn't really expected him to pop out of nowhere.

"Alexi." His voice was resonating and warm. "I wish for you to call me Alexi," he said, his lips twitching at something humorous she didn't understand. " 'You' seems too impersonal for what I have in mind." His voice seduced, calmed and soothed all at the same time.

Cocking her head in thought, she remembered the only name she'd known him by, Devil Blackmoor. She liked the name Alexi, and she liked the way he watched her, almost admiringly.

His gaze on her lips, he stepped forward, so close she felt the warmth of him, and the power of him. Her entire body flushed and heated with anticipation, and the memory of his hands upon her made her tremble.

She wanted him closer to her, needed to be alone with him for at least a few cherished seconds before seeing to Emma. Angela squared her shoulders, her breasts rising to overflow the bodice, the pink color of her nipples almost showing.

Shyly, she placed a hand there to hide herself then decided against it. If she were to win this man for herself, it wouldn't be by hiding. With a practiced, seductive grace Lottie had drilled into her for two days now, she put her hands behind her back and stepped into the alcove so her back was against the smooth wood paneling. The movement accentuated her breasts, thrusting them upward and almost out of the flimsy material holding them.

Wanton
came to mind. A fleeting glimpse of her parents' disapproving faces slipped through the clouds in her head, only to vanish. She wanted this man, and if she had to be reckless to get him, she would. Lottie had told her exactly how to go about capturing the heart of a man like Devil Blackmoor.

If he pulled the drapes, he could make love to her right here in the alcove and no one would be the wiser. She focused on the gold brocaded seat that was obviously put there with carnal delights in mind.

She moistened her lips and watched him, knowing she wanted him, somehow understanding he was meant for her and she for him.

He leaned, one hand on the wall, the other rising to touch her lips. His finger brushed against her in a butterfly touch, a fleeting caress that made her want to beg for more. Parts of her body swelled and tightened in response to him. She ached in dark, feminine places deep inside her.

Pure bliss was what she felt.

Being near him almost satisfied her needs, and she longed to discover more. He peered down at her breasts, then back at her lips. Where his eyes caressed her, she wanted him to touch her.

"I've been looking all over
Denver
for you, but I never thought to find you here," he said, his voice soft and filled with concern.

His finger feathered across her chin, down the column of her throat. Hot, unstoppable shivers spiraled through her, overwhelming her. Once more she moistened her lips. She wanted to pull him to her, to circle him with her arms and hold him close against her.

When his words registered, she sucked in her breath. "You mean in a whorehouse?" she asked, puzzled and at the same time angered by his assumptions and suddenly on the defensive. In an indefinable way she'd come to respect Lottie, and some of the other girls, too. "Do you have something against women who have to work to survive? To eat?" she asked.

Alexi looked surprised by her vehement question. "No," he whispered huskily. "I have nothing against this--any of this. In truth I prefer a woman who is not afraid to use her body for pleasure. And at the moment I prefer you above everyone else. Come to me, Angel."

Thrilled by his ardent declaration, Angela wasn't afraid to use her body for pleasure as long as it was Devil doing the pleasuring. Oh, yes, she wanted to tell him over and over again, she needed to feel those wonderful sensations he had summoned from her body weeks ago.

"You have no use for virgins then..." Her breath fanned his lips. All the while she wondered what he thought of her.

She didn't want him to wait. Tension ripped her insides to shreds. He trailed his finger just above the bodice of her gown. She loved the contrast between the dark bronze of his skin set against the whiteness of her own. She thought he might dip his finger into the valley between her breasts. She needed him to touch her, to soothe the vibrant need rising within her.

If he asked, she would go anywhere with him, allow him anything he wanted. If he would only ask.

He was less than an inch away. She strained against him, silently urging him closer, but it seemed to Angela he wanted to prolong the inevitable. He wanted to control their lovemaking.

She wanted fulfillment.

"I do not want anything to do with virgins." He paused in reflection. "Although I will be duty-bound to marry one."

Frustration pierced her heart then fear. "You wouldn't marry someone who wasn't innocent?" she asked, unsure of herself and what she should tell him.

"Your words, sweetheart, not mine. I would never belittle a beautiful woman who gave herself to me in passion, but I would not wed her."

Confusion ran rampant in her mind. "Even if you loved her beyond anything imaginable?"

"Love is for fools and fairy tales."

She moistened her lips and swallowed, her eyes languidly following the path of his fingers as he inched closer to her breasts. His statements regarding virgins and wives vanished from her mind, replaced by the searing heat of his hands as they explored and tempted her from the path of virtue. When this man touched her, she could not think.

"But then..." She wanted to know more.

"Curiosity? I admire that in a woman; it shows a deep-seated intelligence. I would find a place in my heart for her as my mistress, and I would lavish her with her heart's desire."