Taming Angelina: The Temptation Saga: Book Four (8 page)

T
hree hours later
, it was over.

Angie drove home. In an ivory daze, she showered and put on some sweats. Then she lay on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

She woke up to her cell phone. Didn’t bother looking at the number.

“Hello?”

“Angie?”

Rafe.

“I got your number from Amber. Are you standing me up?”

Our dinner date.
“I’m sorry, Rafe. I should have called but I fell asleep. My…my father passed away today.”

Silence. Then, “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was ill.”

“I didn’t know either, until yesterday.”
But I should have known.
“He kept it from us. That’s why I came to you last night. I couldn’t be alone. And this morning I wanted to talk.”

“I know. I should have let you talk. I should have talked to you last night. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

She let out a huff and shook her head. “You didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted you. I think that was pretty obvious.”

“I understand. Making love is the ultimate sign of life. It made sense for you to want it in the face of death.”

No, no. He had it all wrong! She hadn’t wanted to make love. She’d specifically wanted to make love with
him
. She loved him.

Yet she hadn’t told him any of that yet. And right now, she didn’t have the energy to confess her love and face that he might not return her feelings. That would take more strength than she possessed at this moment.

“Angie, have you eaten anything today?”

“No.”

“I’m coming over and bringing you dinner.”

“But—”

“No argument. I made some great stuffed pork chops and homemade applesauce. Good old comfort food. You’ll love it. I’ll pick up some wine on the way.”

“Rafe, I don’t know. I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Course he had no idea where she lived. Probably got that information from Amber too.

Amber. She should call Amber. But she couldn’t find the strength to even press speed dial. Catie would let their friend know. She wasn’t as broken up as Angie was. Catie loved their daddy, Angie knew, but she wasn’t as close to him. Besides, she was married now. She had Chad. And their baby on the way.

Who did Angie have?

Harper. Harper was strong. He’d help her get through this. But he was her baby brother.

She needed strong arms to hold her while she cried, a soothing voice to tell her everything would be okay, even when she knew it wouldn’t be.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
Rafe.

The door squeaked open. “Angie?”

His voice sent ripples through her. Even in her discombobulated state he affected her. “I’m up here.”

Sounds came from the kitchen, and then the stairs creaked as Rafe ascended. She looked a fright, but she didn’t care. Either he loved her or he didn’t. Or he could grow to love her or he couldn’t. This was Angelina Bay at her worst. If he couldn’t take it, she’d be better off without him. Though she couldn’t bear that possibility.

He peeked into her room. “Hey there.”

“Hi, Rafe.”

“Oh, baby.” He came to her, sat down on the bed and took one hand in his. “I am so, so sorry. You must have loved your daddy a lot.”

The damn broke. She cried all the tears she’d tried to cry during the afternoon when all she could muster were silent weeps. She cried for her daddy, for herself, for any children she might have who’d never know their wonderful grandpa. She cried for her mama, for her loss, even though they hadn’t had a marriage of passion. They’d had a marriage of respect and deep friendship. She cried for Catie and Harper. But mostly she cried for herself and how no one would ever adore her the way Wayne Alan Bay had.

She cried, and she cried, and she cried.

Rafe’s black shirt was a mass of tears and nose drippings by the time she finally quieted.

“It’s okay.” His voice soothed her. “It’s going to be okay, baby.”

He held her then, held her and rocked her as she choked back the sobs that threatened to unleash again.

Finally, he spoke. “Can you eat something? You should eat.”

She shook her head. The thought of food turned her stomach. “Not hungry.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t push her, thank goodness. He’d made her dinner, and she loved him for it. For that and so many other things. For what a good man he was, his amazing work ethic, his devotion to his father, his devotion to the livestock he cared for at Chad’s. Mostly she loved him because he was Rafe.

The man she adored.

“Here,” he said. He arranged a few pillows and blankets and tucked her under them. Then he lay down next to her and gathered her in his arms.

“Go to sleep.”

And she did.

S
he awoke
to Rafe still beside her. He’d taken off his jeans and shirt and wore only navy blue boxer briefs. She got up and headed to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror shocked her. What a freaking mess. How could he have stayed?

But then, she loved him. She no longer cared what he looked like. She loved the Rafe inside. If he looked a mess she’d love him just as much. Was it possible he could feel the same for her? Would she ever have the courage to find out?

She jumped in the shower. The water pulsing down her tired body soothed her aches. She closed her eyes and let the warmth coat her hair.

“Like some company?”

She opened her eyes. Rafe, naked and glorious, stood outside her shower, his hand holding the open door.

She motioned him in. He’d taken his hair out of the ponytail, and it hung in glorious tresses down his back.

“Here, let me help,” he said. He grabbed shampoo from the shelf and massaged a generous dollop into his hands. He spread it onto her hair and began to massage her scalp.

Judy offered scalp massage for an extra ten dollars at the salon, and Angie took it when she had the time. But Rafe’s fingers were in a class all their own. He kneaded her head and neck and pulled the suds though her strands all the way to the ends. She savored the feel of his fingers, the warmth of his presence.

“Now rinse,” he said, turning her toward the shower spray. He massaged the suds right out of her hair, squeezed conditioner into his hand, and stroked it into her hair. “Your hair is beautiful, Angie.”

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and let his fingers tantalize her. “So’s yours. You look like a Lakota warrior, all fierce and wild and free.”

“I am part Lakota Sioux.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Really? How?”

She jerked her eyes open. Would he think she’d been asking questions about him? “Catie told me.”

“Oh.” He rinsed the last of the conditioner from her hair. “My other half is Comanche, on my dad’s side. My mom is Sioux with a little Irish mixed in.” He squeezed some shower gel onto her mesh body scrubber and started washing her. “So where do you come from?”

“Mmm, that feels good. The Bays are English with a little French. My mama was born Maria Ciara Gomez. Her father was Mexican and her mother Irish.”

“Maria Ciara, that’s pretty.”

She closed her eyes, relaxing. “She was named after her two grandmothers, so she named me after my two grandmothers. Angelina was my father’s mother, and my middle name is Siobhan, for my mother’s mother.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He rinsed the soap from her body.

Her nipples tightened as the streams of water wandered over her. Why on earth was she getting turned on when she was so sad?

Because this was the man she loved, the man who offered her comfort. If being with him, his body inside her, offered her comfort, why should she not avail herself of it when she so needed it? She reached between his legs and stroked his already erect cock.

“Oh, baby.” He gritted his teeth. “Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

He lifted her into his arms and impaled her.

Completion again. Sweet, lovely joining.

He grabbed her ass, lifted her up, and thrust her down upon him. Up, down. Up, down, and with each slick stroke, she fell more and more in love with him. So in love she wasn’t sure she could continue to live if he weren’t here.

“God, you feel good, baby. So good.”

She sobbed into his shoulder as her climax built. When it finally emerged and the kaleidoscope of pleasure whirled through her, she murmured into his neck, though not giving voice to her words.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Yeah, that’s it. Come for me, baby.” He hoisted her up and down more rapidly. “God, yeah. I’m coming with you, Angie. Ah!”

With one final plunge, he pulsed into her. So in tune with him was she, her walls felt every spasm.

He kissed the top of her head as she slid down his slick body.

“Go on and dry off,” he said. “If you stay in here with me I might never get to work today.”

“But we didn’t wash you yet.”

“I can handle it myself. If you put your hands on me I may have to fuck you again.”

“What would be wrong with that?”

“I can’t lose my job.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time for more showers.”

“Good.” She stepped out of the stall and grabbed a towel. “Because I want to get my fingers in that gorgeous hair of yours.”

She dried off. He’d said there’d be more showers. That was a good sign. She sighed and got dressed.

She had to admit she felt better. A good night’s sleep and a good cry always helped. Not to mention a good bout of lovemaking.

She wasn’t looking forward to today. She had to go with her mother to make the cremation and memorial service arrangements.

“You look nice,” Rafe said, exiting the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

His bronze chest glistened. No hair covered it, and only soft hair covered his muscular legs. God, his legs. So powerful as he sauntered toward her. The muscles in his calves bulged. No wonder he could ride a horse without reins.

Speaking of… “I can’t make my lesson today. I have to help my mother with the…arrangements.”

“Of course. I figured as much.”

“But I will continue the lessons. I swear it. It was my father’s wish that I learn to ride well, and I intend to.”

“Good. I’ll enjoy seeing you. But for now, you take a break. You let me know when you want to start lessons again. I’ll make sure Belle gets her exercise.”

He’d enjoy seeing her at lessons? Did that mean he didn’t intend to see her anywhere else? Course he’d just said there’d be more showers.
Quit second guessing, Angie.

“Can I get you something for breakfast before you go to work?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I will take some of my leftover dinner for lunch though.”

His dinner.
“I’m so sorry. You went to all that trouble to make me dinner and I—”

He stopped her with a chaste kiss on the mouth. “Don’t you worry about that. You had much bigger things on your mind last night, and you can enjoy the other half of the leftovers for your own lunch.”

“Can I get a rain check?” Did she sound too desperate?

“Sure. Of course. As soon as you’re feeling up to it. But don’t rush it, Angie. Take your time to grieve.”

“Well”—her voice shook—“I still need to eat.”

“True enough. Make sure you do. You’ll be able to deal with things a lot better if you don’t starve yourself.”

He hadn’t taken the hint. Oh, well. Maybe he was right. She needed to take time for herself and her family so they could all get through the next couple of weeks. She’d miss him, but her family needed her and she needed them.

Daddy, I miss you so.

W
ho was that man
? A nice-looking older man, black hair going white at the temples, loitered around the buffet table in the dining room. Angie didn’t recall seeing him at the memorial service. Course she hadn’t been overly aware of her surroundings. Saying goodbye to her father had taken all her strength. Part of her still couldn’t quite grasp that he was gone.

The man looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t say how.

Her mother swayed next to her. “Good Lord.”

“Who is it, Mama?”

“I’m not quite sure. But I think it’s your uncle.”

“I have an uncle?”

“Yes. Your father’s brother.”

“I never knew Daddy had a brother.”

“He never spoke of him. He forbade mention of his name. They had a huge falling out when they were young. Jeff got into big trouble with the law and went to prison. Your great-grandfather disinherited him.”

“Why is he here now?”

“I don’t have any idea. I sincerely don’t.” She leaned onto Angie. “I need to sit down.”

“Of course.” She turned to Harper. “Take Mama out of here. She’s had enough. I need to see what this man wants.”

“I’ll come with you. Wait just a minute.” Harper ushered Maria out of the living room and up the stairs. Five minutes later, he returned.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s see what this guy wants.”

They approached the strange man who was helping himself to some honey ham from the buffet table.

“Good afternoon, I’m Harper Bay.” Harper held out his hand.

“Jefferson Bay,” the man said, “and this must be the lovely Angelina?”

Angie nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’ve come to pay my respects to my brother and his family, of course. I’m your uncle.”

“So our mother informed us,” Harper said. “Any reason you can think of why our father neglected to mention you all these years?”

“It’s a long story. I need to sit down with you two and your mother. Where’s the other sister?”

“She’s over there.” Harper pointed to Catie. “That’s her husband, Chad McCray.”

“Yeah, I heard she married pretty young. Too bad for me. But you’re still single, right?” he asked Angie.

Why on earth would he care if Catie was married? “I’m not sure what business it could possibly be of yours, but yes, I’m single.”

Rafe approached them, Amber and Tom on his heels. “You okay, Angie?” he asked. “You look a little pale.”

“I just buried my daddy.”

“I know. Just…you look like you could use some sittin’ time.” He took her arm. “Excuse us please.”

“Wait a minute. I’d like to meet your friends, Angelina,” Jefferson said.

Rafe stuck out his hand. “I’m Rafe Grayhawk. This is my brother, Tom, and this is Amber Cross. We’re friends of Angie’s.”

“A pleasure. I’m Angelina’s uncle, Jefferson Bay.”

“Nice to meet you. But Angie really needs to sit down. Come on, honey.”

Rafe led her to a sofa in the hallway where, thank the lord, no one was loitering.

“I don’t want to insult your family on such a sad day but your uncle could use some manners. He didn’t seem concerned about your well-being at all.”

“Why should he? He just met me today.”

“What?”

“Seriously. Till today, I never knew he existed. My daddy never mentioned a brother. I thought he was an only child.”

Rafe’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting time for him to show up.”

“I know. He says he needs to talk to us. I have no idea what it could be about.”

“Probably just wants to make amends.”

“Hopefully. But wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to come around while Daddy was alive?” She massaged her temples and closed her eyes.

Rafe’s fingers softly drifted over her forearm. “You want to go upstairs and lie down? Get on out of here for a little while?”

His touch was soothing. Felt so nice.

“You have no idea how much I want to do that, but I can’t. Mama’s already gone upstairs, so I have to play hostess.”

“A lady who just lost her father doesn’t have to stand on ceremony, baby. Let’s get you upstairs.”

She relented. What the heck? Harper and Catie could take care of things. And mama’s sister, Aunt Meghan, was here to assist. Catie’s two sisters-in-law, Dusty and Annie, were helping too. She took Rafe’s arm and let him lead her upstairs.

“Which room?”

“First one the right,” she said. “That was my room as a kid.”

She grimaced as her pink canopy bed came into view. But she was too sad and tired to care what Rafe might think of her childhood tastes, though she did wonder for a moment why Maria had never changed any of their rooms. Catie’s still had stuffed horses strewn all over.

Rafe seemed undaunted, though, and helped her lie down amid the fluff. “You stay here for a while. If you’re needed downstairs, I’ll come get you.” He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, shut the blinds on the windows, and left quietly.

Angie slept until morning.

S
he woke
to her blinds opened. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Harper said, shoving her blinds up. “Our esteemed uncle’s coming in an hour to talk to us about God knows what.”

“Harp, geez! I have to go home and shower and change.”

“Hurry it up then. Be back here by two o’clock.”

“Two o’clock? It can’t possibly be one.”

“It is, Sis. You’ve been up here twenty hours or so, give or take a minute or two.”

“Can’t this wait? We just buried our father, for God’s sake.”

“Believe me, I told him that. He says he has to talk to us now. That it’s urgent.”

“Is Catie coming over?”

“She and Chad are already here, downstairs.”

Angie looked down at her wrinkled black suit. “I can’t wear this. Tell you what, go get something out of Mama’s closet for me, will you? Nothing too frumpy.”

“Since when does our mother dress like a frump? I’ll have Catie pick something. You get in the shower and get cleaned up.”

Thank goodness her bathroom was still fully stocked. The shower warmed and massaged her aching body.

She dressed in a beige pantsuit that Catie must have set on her bed while she was showering and then walked downstairs. She found her mother, brother, sister, Chad, and Uncle Jefferson in the room that had been her father’s office. Jefferson sat behind her father’s desk.

A shiver niggled at the back of her neck. This felt all wrong.

“Ah, the lovely Angelina,” Uncle Jefferson said, “my mother’s namesake.”

“Yes. Uh…hello.”

“Sit down. You of all people will be the most interested in what I have to say.”

Angie gulped. What on earth did he mean?

“Have a seat, my dear.” Jefferson pointed to an empty chair.

Angie sat, still in a daze from the memorial. “What’s this all about?”

“We have no idea,” Harper said. “He wouldn’t tell us till we were all here.” He turned to his uncle. “We’re all here now. Let’s get on with it.”

“Of course.” Jefferson set a document on the desk. “You might be wondering what this is.”

“Not really,” Harper said.

“You will in a minute. Before I read it to you, I want to tell you all a little story.”

“How about you tell us why none of us knew you existed till now?” Harper said, his voice not happy.

“You knew I existed, didn’t you, Mia?”

Mia?
Angie had never heard anyone but her father refer to her mother as Mia.

Maria Bay rose. “We’ve all been through the wringer, Jeff. Please just tell us why you’re here.”

“Simmer down and I’ll get to that.”

Maria sat back down and sighed. Angie regarded her mother’s pale cheeks. None of them needed this stress, especially Maria.

“Now, for my tale of two brothers. Once there were two brothers, the good son and the bad son. I think you know who the good son was. The esteemed Wayne Alan Bay. As you know, Wayne and I were orphaned when he was ten and I was eight. We were raised by our grandfather, Norman Bay, on the western slope ranch that your father now owns, Bay Crossing. This”—he held up the document again—“is the last will and testament of Norman Bay.”

“So what?” Harper said.

“You’ll see its importance momentarily,” Jeff said. “Grandpa ruled us with an iron hand, and Wayne, the good son, was held in high favor. Jeff, the bad son, was a rebel. He shirked his duties around the ranch, got in trouble with the law on more than one occasion, but finally found the will to turn his life around when he met the woman of his dreams.”

A choking sob came from her mother’s throat. Angie looked over, and Maria had buried her face in her hands.

“Mama? What is it?” she asked.

Maria shook her head.

“Our mother’s been through hell,” Harper said. “Now what is this all about?”

“Alas,” Jeff continued, “the woman betrayed him in the worst possible way.”

Maria lifted her head. “Please, Jeff. Don’t do this.”

“His sweet angel betrayed him by sleeping with his own brother!”

Angie gasped. She looked at her brother and her sister and Chad. All looked equally shocked.

“Mama?” Catie’s soft voice echoed through the room.

“Why? Why now, Jeff? We thought you were long gone. No one has heard from you in decades. We assumed you’d died in prison.”

“Prison?” Harper’s voice was shaky.

“Yes, prison,” Jeff said. “I was sentenced to life in prison for a crime I did not commit.”

“Then why did you plead guilty?” Maria shook her head. “You mean you didn’t murder that man?”

Jeff shook his head. “Of course I didn’t. I’m not a killer. I pleaded guilty because I had nothing left to live for. The evidence against me was overwhelming, and my own grandfather had already disinherited me. He had already tried and convicted me. When I found out you had slept with Wayne and were carrying his child, I had nothing left at all.”

“Then what happened? How did you get out?”

“Three years ago, a man approached me in prison. Said he could no longer live with the lies. He told the truth, and DNA evidence further proved my innocence.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Harper said. “There’s a whole lot to this story you’re not telling us.”

“Go to the library and look it up,” Jeff said. “It’s a chapter in my life I’d rather forget, and it has little to do with why I’m here.”

“Then let’s get to that, please.” Harper stood. “Why are you here?”

“Sit your ass down, young man. This has little to do with you. We are here because of this document.” He rustled the papers. “Grandpa Norman’s will.”

“Your grandfather’s been dead for over twenty years,” Maria said. “You said yourself he disinherited you. Bay Crossing went to Wayne, and now it belongs to Angelina and Caitlyn. You can look at Wayne’s will.”

“Only the girls? What about your handsome son, there?” He motioned to Harper who was still standing, gripping the back of his chair, his knuckles white.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Maria said, “but I inherited this ranch from a childless relative. I transferred it to Wayne, and he made the decision to bequeath it to Harper and Bay Crossing to the girls. He felt a man should have his own ranch, and this ranch is roughly equal to half of what the other is worth, so it all came out fairly.”

“Ah, yes, dear old Wayne, always fair.”

“I’m sure I sound like an echo in here,” Harper said, “but your point?”

“My point, dear nephew, is that my grandfather was not only an arrogant bastard, he was also one of the premier male chauvinist pigs of our time.” He laughed. “I confess I never thought his old school sexism would work in my favor, but I’m happy to tell you I was wrong.” He stood and handed the will to Harper. “I hear you’re an attorney.”

Harper took the paper. “Yes, I am.”

“Then I refer you to section thirteen B of the document.”

Harper rustled the papers, his eyes scanning the document. His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it, Harper?” Maria asked.

“It seems there’s a section here that may supersede Dad’s intentions. Norman Bay did grant Bay Crossing to Dad, but left a limitation on his ownership and ability to bequeath it to his own heirs.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Maria said.

“Jefferson is right. Norman was a chauvinist.” Harper cleared his throat. “Dad can only bequeath the property on the western slope to sons or married daughters. Any daughter who is not yet married can’t inherit, and that portion reverts to any other living issue of Norman’s body, by representation, which is, in this case, Jefferson.”

Angie’s stomach plummeted.

She
was the problem. The unmarried daughter. Harper got Cha Cha. Catie got half of Bay Crossing.

Angie got nothing.