My Angel (23 page)

Allah!

Chapter Eight

She had lied to him, the truth apparent now that he knew her intimately. She was no more a virgin than he was.

His body shook, his anger rising to a fever pitch as he realized there was no barrier to be broken, no resistance within her, and he understood she'd played him for a fool. Fury swept through him, a rage so deep and heartrending, one so hot and intense, that he'd surely burn and perish.

In one wild, passion-filled moment, all his dreams crumbled to dust.

He would never forgive her, but he would use her as she had used him.

An eye for an eye.

"Alexi," she called out in a paper-thin voice.

He'd once longed for his name upon her lips. No more.

Beneath him she writhed and her hips lifted to bring him deeper and more fully inside. His little wanton angel knew what to do. He meant to stop this travesty before it went any further, but she wrapped her legs around his back and he was undone, brought to his knees by a jezebel. A massive shudder swept through him, and he gave himself over to the sexual delights he knew she offered. To hell with her feelings and her so called tender sensibilities.

To hell with his dreams.

She never cried out or suffered pain because there was no reason. He would not hurt her because she was not a maiden.

Angela would never be his wife. A shudder racked his body. A tight knot of pain burrowed deep into his heart.

~ * ~

His arms braced on either side of her, Alexi paused. She felt him looking down at her, just as she felt his sudden unexplainable anger, saw the cold, hard lines of his face, the ice in his expression. She wished fervently she had the power to see into his mind. His expression was suddenly so hard and cold, she felt rivers of fear rushing through her.

For too many long seconds he held still, watching her, his sex deep inside her, filling her.

He began to withdraw.

Only to plunge into her again, this time with little regard for her feelings, yet she found herself drawn higher and higher until she cried out in pleasure and stars seemed to shimmer in her mind. She bit fiercely into her lower lip then felt his mouth upon hers, his tongue sweeping along her lips, imploring her to open to him, demanding all she had to give and more.

He tensed then a thrust brought him so deeply within her she shuddered with the intensity of it. The heat of his climax filled her with liquid fire. And almost as instantly, he eased his weight off her, pulled the covers on top of her and, rising from her bedside, strode from the room. On his way out, he picked up his pants and stepped into them.

"Don't move from that bed," he commanded. "I'll be back later."

"Alexi?" she whispered, the sheet held to her swollen breasts, shame and humiliation swamping her.

Angela stared after him, confused and heartbroken. Defying his command, she rose from the bed and, shrugging into her wrapper, followed Alexi into the parlor. Several minutes passed while she watched Alexi in the other room, pacing, a dark, cold glare in his eyes. He didn't look up or acknowledge her presence.

Needing to understand what had changed between them, she stepped out of the shadows. "What did I do wrong? I would
make things right if I could," she told him softly before taking another step into the room, afraid to confront the demon in Alexi but too terrified not to.

"You need an answer to that question?" His words and tone were harsh, and he sounded every bit as taken aback by what just happened as she felt.

"I know I don't know much about lovemaking, but--"

"My God, woman!" he thundered so loudly she thought the entire hotel must be able to hear. "After what just happened in there, and the irrevocable proof I met head-on, you have the audacity to tell me that?"

Angela stepped back into the shadows of the room, confused about Alexi's feelings for the first time since she'd met him.

"I don't understand." She tried desperately to still the quavering of her voice and the trembling of her body. She could not.

What proof?

Alexi gave her an icy stare. She stepped back again, retreating into the darkness of the room and her soul.

"Liar." His voice was soft, but the one word had the impact of a locomotive crashing into her heart. She was sure it stopped beating. And she was sure she did not know what he spoke of.

"I am not a liar," she told him, her voice so low she was not sure he heard.

He poured himself a glass of brandy and downed the alcohol in one gulp. One arm rested against the fireplace. The flames licked upward and embers popped. He did not move. Suddenly, with no warning, Alexi threw the crystal into the fire. What liquid remained hissed and exploded with the heat. The delicate glass shattered into a thousand glimmering shards.

"I'm going out," Alexi gritted out between clenched teeth. "Be here when I get back. I want you in my bed, nowhere else. Do you understand?"

She didn't move.

"Do you understand?" Harshly, he repeated his commands as if she were a wayward child, incapable of comprehending what he wanted.

"Where else would I be?" she asked, confusion pooling in her stomach, fear in her heart. "What have I done?"

He came to her then. His hands wrapped around her arms. She could not help but meet his gaze and recognize the simmering rage he held tightly in check.It seemed it would not take much for him to explode.

"I am not a fool, Angela. You've lied to me, and I find that a sin I cannot forgive. Pack your clothes. We'll leave on the morrow with the tide. I see no reason to spend any more time in
New York
, courting you like the besotted fool I've been. I never make a mistake twice."

With those hollow words rattling around in Angela's mind, she watched Alexi dress in evening attire and leave the room. On an ominous note the door closed, the latch clicking.

Confused and utterly alone, Angela walked in a daze through the rooms of their suite. Unable to cry, she watched the fire slowly die, just as her heart was dying.

Pack your clothes.
Be here when I get back.

Like hell!
she thought, furious with the man and his bold audacity. His great arrogance no longer appealed to her. His impervious commands she would no longer obey.

Angela plopped down on the ornate gold couch, her head in her hands, tears now sliding down her cheeks, all energy drained from her. She would not cry, she vowed, but she could not help herself.

Like hell.

She clutched a pillow to her chest and fingered the tassel, determination rising to overcome her despair. Night sounds swept in through an open window, a horse and carriage, the rumbling of the underground train. Nothing filled the emptiness inside her.

"Alexi,'' she whispered, bereft, "what have I done to change everything so? What sin do you believe I've committed?"

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the embers of the fire had died to almost nothing. The clock on the mantel chimed twice. She rose and looked in their room. It was still empty, the bed cold. The sheets were rumpled from
their lovemaking, something so incomplete and lacking it left a hole in her heart she didn't think could ever be filled. The promise had been so sweet, the deed empty.

Courage she'd always possessed until these last few heartrending minutes surfaced. She knew what she had to do. She had to leave, and she had to vanish before Alexi returned. Because he would never let her go.

Despite the hate he felt for her and the rage that simmered so blatantly on the surface, he would keep her with him until she hated, too. She could never let that happen.

Determined to see this through, she shook off the weakness and the uncharacteristic vulnerability that had held her to Alexi. Then she packed her clothes, just as he'd demanded.

Her one valise in hand, Angela, with her head held high, strode out of the suite and out of Alexi' s life forever. Small electric lights lit the hallway and the stairs leading to the first floor. The foyer was awash with a golden glow. The bellboy gave her a cursory look before going back to work.

Tears stung the back of her throat as she silently made her way out of the hotel, but she valiantly fought them back, keeping her head high. Outside, beneath a crescent moon hovering in the sky, she made her way down the lighted street and away from Alexi and the hurtful rejection she didn't understand.

~ * ~

Alexi hailed a carriage and gave directions to one of the most prestigious bordellos
New York City
had to offer. Slowly he walked up the long brick walkway. Huge lion-headed knocker in hand, he pounded against the door.

"Good evening, Devil. Nice to see you, sir. It's been a while."