I'm No Angel (18 page)

“You're wrong, Angel.” Dagger grinned smugly. “I did quite extensive homework, and what do you know, I found out that the insurance company didn't pay Holt Hudson a penny because a claim wasn't filed after the theft.”

Angel frowned. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I have connections, Angel. You forget, you did a damn good job training me how to be a P.I. I know how to pick pockets, bypass alarm systems, and find out just about anything I want to know about anyone. It's easy when you know all the tricks. And trust me, I've done my homework on that statue, on Chase Donovan, and on your new lover.”

“If you'd done your homework you'd know that Tom doesn't have a clue where the statue is.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because he's trying to prove his dad's innocence. He wouldn't be working so hard at that if he knew for a fact that the statue was somewhere on his property.”

Still, Angel did find it interesting that Holt had never filed a claim. That didn't make sense at all.

“I suppose,” Angel said, “the idea of finding a buyer for
The Embrace
never crossed your mind, even though it's worth close to twenty mil?”

Dagger laughed. “Twenty mil would be nice, but I'll be just as happy with the money I get out of the lawsuit I've filed against your dad. Hurt him and I hurt you.”

“You'll never get a dime from my dad or any-
thing else from me, so why don't you call off your ridiculous suit.”

“Because your father broke my nose.” Dagger slid his middle finger down the bridge of his nose, over the insignificant bump her father had caused, when what her father had really wanted to do was smash the bastard so hard his brain would turn to sludge. “I deserve restitution for what he did to me.”

“And what suit do you plan on filing after you lose this one—if it ever gets to court?”

“Your brother Ty slandered my good name. I think that should be worth a pretty penny. What do you think?”

“I think I'd like to wrap a heavy weight around your ankles and throw you overboard.”

“That's not very creative, Angel. Surely you'd like to do something with your stiletto. Threaten to cut me. Pretend you're going to make me bleed?”

“That's the game you liked to play, Dagger.”

“It's a game I'd like to play right now, too.” His grin made Angel want to run to the side of the boat and wretch, but she was not about to let him see anything but a woman in complete control.

“Do you still get your rocks off that way, Dagger?”

“Damn right.” Dagger moved toward her and cupped her cheek. “Wanna go downstairs and let me remind you how good it can be?”

“She's not going anywhere with you.”

Angel spun around just in time to see Tom swing over the side of the cruiser. He stalked
across the deck and stood just inches from Dagger. “Apologize to the lady.”

“Fuck off.”

Tom's brow slanted. “That's not a polite thing to say in front of Angel.”

“Don't antagonize him, Tom,” Angel said, touching Tom's shoulder. “He's got a knife and he knows how to use it.”

Dagger practically slithered toward a deck chair, slick and slimy as ever. He lifted the shirt lying there and picked up his scabbard with a twelve-inch blade stuck inside. “Angel's right, you know. I do know how to use this.”

Tom walked away from Angel, circling Dagger, a smirk on his face as he moved. “You don't really think that little knife frightens me, do you?”

“It's frightened a hell of a lot of people.”

“And I've frightened alligators with my bare hands and my smile.” Tom grinned again. “Let me tell you this, Mr. Zane, an alligator is a hell of a lot stronger than you and smarter than you, but I've whipped them without breaking a sweat. Taking care of you will be a piece of cake.”

“It took two of Angel's brothers plus her dad to get the better of me,” Dagger said, bravado ringing in his voice. “And you're nothing more than a sissified piano player.”

Tom clasped his hands behind his back and stood at ease, feet, legs, and chest bare, wearing only a pair of baggy surfer shorts. Sunlight glinted in his eyes. He was far too calm and Angel
was getting worried as the men played a game of standoff.

Angel slipped her fingers around the hilt of her stiletto at the same moment she watched Dagger grab the hilt of his.

Everything after that seemed to move in slow motion. Tom slammed an angry fist into Dagger's gut.

Dagger grabbed his belly. Shock widened his eyes. He groaned, staggered back a few feet until he hit the cabin wall. “If you think you're going to get away with this—”

Tom slapped an open palm on Dagger's chest and got right in his face. “No, Dagger, if
you
think you can intimidate me, you're sorely mistaken.” Tom ripped the twelve-inch knife out of Dagger's scabbard.

Dagger flinched, his eyes filling with terror.

Tom laughed as he studied the glistening blade, then tossed the vicious knife over the side and into the Atlantic.

“Let me make something very clear to you,” Tom growled. “If you ever touch Angel again, if you don't withdraw the lawsuit you've got against her dad right now, and if you file any kind of future lawsuit against her or her family or try to extort money from them or do anything, and I mean anything, to hurt her, I'll haul your miserable ass down to the Everglades and feed you to some of the alligators I'm acquainted with.”

Dagger's eyes narrowed as Tom backed away. “You don't scare me,” Dagger snarled. “And if I want to touch Angel—”

Tom grabbed a hunk of Dagger's hair, latched onto the back of the asshole's Speedo, and with ease and grace, tossed him overboard.

Over the squawk of gulls and the roar and whine of a couple of speedboats and Jet Skis zipping by, Angel heard a flurry of swearing as Dagger floundered in the water. The bastard deserved a hell of a lot more. Maybe she'd be lucky and a shark would swim by. For now…she'd settle for seeing Dagger looking like a half-drowned rat.

Tom tossed the scabbard into the water, right next to the Jet Ski tied up to her boat.

As he turned slowly, facing her, Tom's gaze was filled with anger. He stalked toward her, standing just inches from her face. “What on earth possessed you to come out here and see that bastard?”

“He filed a frivolous lawsuit against my dad.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard every stinking word the creep had to say. But that's no excuse for you confronting him on your own, especially when the whole thing could have been handled in court.”

Angel stiffened. “My dad can't afford an attorney.”

Tom's eyes narrowed. “You could have asked me for the money.”

“Seems to me you and I were fighting this morning.” Angel poked Tom in the center of his very bare, very muscular, and very bronzed chest. “Seems to me I pretty much told you I didn't want anything to do with you and that also means I
wouldn't take anything from you, nor would anyone else in the Devlin family.”

“Seems to me I just saved your pretty little ass.”

“I could have taken care of myself.”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Well,” Angel tossed back, “I didn't.”

Tom shoved his fingers through his hair. “I came out here ready to give you hell for spying on me again, for joining forces with the other guy who'd been spying on me—”

“What?” she said aghast. “I'd never join forces with that asshole ex of mine.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't know it was your asshole ex you were motoring out here to see, and when I did realize it was him, when I heard all the shit he was dishing out, when I saw him touch you—”

Angel saw Tom's muscles tense. Saw him swallow hard, then watched his chest rise and fall heavily.

“Damn it, Angel, I don't remember a time when I wanted to kill someone as much as I did just a few minutes ago.”

A gentle smile touched Angel's face. A dizzy happiness rippled through her insides. And she walked up to Tom, wove her fingers around his neck, and kissed him softly. “I owe you one.”

Tom gazed into her eyes. His were the darkest of brown, touched by anger and fear. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he smiled. “I think you owe me at least two or three, and it just so happens I don't have anything planned for the afternoon, so why don't we—”

“Go fool around in that big old Italian Renais
sance bed?” Angel asked, brimming over with happiness and excitement.

Tom pulled her into his arms and kissed her lightly. “That'll do for starters.”

T
om sucked Angel's big toe between his lips, and over her cute little pinkies, he watched a smile brighten her sapphire eyes. She relaxed against the marble tub filled nearly to overflowing with bubbles, and teased his stomach with the toes of her other slender and slippery foot.

“I thought we were going to relax for a while,” Tom said, drawing the bottom of her foot against his lips and licking her sweet pink flesh. “God knows I don't think I'm up for another hour-long romp quite so soon.”

“Oh, I don't know about that.” She slid the ball of her foot down to his groin and teased him with a soft brush of her toes. “If I'm not mistaken, you might soon be up for just about anything.”

Tom grabbed the foot that was doing all the probing and teasing and drew it toward his chest. He held on to both her ankles and sucked one toe and then the next, grinning as she squirmed, as her breasts bobbed on top of the water right along with the bubbles.

“Would you really toss Dagger to the gators if he got in my face again?” Angel asked, her words a bit breathless.

“Sure as hell would, and I wouldn't blink an eye while Bessie devoured him.”

“Bessie?”

“She's only nine feet long and lost a foot to a poacher a few years back, but she's got the prettiest brown eyes you ever did see.”

“Seems a shame to dump a tough piece of crap like Dagger on a sweet thing like Bessie.”

“Nah, she'll eat anything. And what she spits out, her son Ralph will swallow whole.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. He's a mere thirteen feet long and weighs in at eight-ninety-one, give or take a few pounds.”

“You wrestle with him?”

“When we're both in the mood.”

“What are you in the mood for right now?”

Tom nibbled on one of her heels, then swirled his tongue over her ankle. “Right now I'm pretty content with what I'm doing.”

“I'm pretty content, too, but how about later?”

Tom wiggled his brows. “You have something in mind?”

“How about chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, and gravy?”

“If I'm going to lick something off that sweet little body of yours,” Tom said, then slid his tongue along her arch, “couldn't we make it chocolate? Or maybe boysenberry?”

“I'm talking about dinner. Tonight,” Angel said adamantly. “I'm cooking for my mom and dad.”

“You're inviting me over to meet them?”

“My opinion of men isn't always the best. I figure I should let them check you out and tell me what they think.”

“You wouldn't by any chance be thinking of turning this thing between us into a long-term relationship, would you?”

“It's already a relationship. Whether it's long-term or not remains to be seen.”

“I've never been in a long-term relationship. Hell, I've never had a relationship that could withstand more than one or two dates.”

“We haven't even had a first date yet,” Angel said.

Tom slid his hands over her sudsy legs. “What do you call this?”

“Two close friends exchanging a bit of witty repartee…with some knock-down-drag-out sex thrown in for good measure.”

“Sounds a hell of a lot better than eating popcorn in a stuffy theater or—”

“Not so fast,” Angel said, tugging her feet out of his hands and kneeling in the tub, one knee on each side of his legs. “I like stuffy theaters and popcorn.”

“All right,” he said, drawing his palms up her silky thighs and settling them on her hips. “If you want to go out on a real date—”

“I like candlelight, too,” she said, lowering her heavenly body back into the water, her breasts speckled with suds. “I like caviar and fine wine. Linen tablecloths and napkins and seven-course meals.”

“I suppose you like flowers, too?”

Angel moved a little lower, her hips swaying
gently. His own body throbbed and his penis went into active duty, ready to take on anything she wanted to dish out.

“I like red roses,” she said, her fingers sliding around the base of his erection and slowly, tightly, moving to the very tip. “I like white orchids and orange lilies.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“I like dark chocolate.” She licked her lips, then purred as she rubbed the very tip of his penis between her hot and slippery folds of soft, begging-to-be-fondled skin.

“How about whipped cream?” Tom asked.

“With fresh, plump, juicy strawberries.”

“Ice cream?”

“Rocky road and black walnut.”

“What about me?”

She sighed deeply. “Oh, yeah, I like you, too.”

Tom thrust into her to ease his agony, and Angel smiled, her eyes closed as she allowed herself to sink fully onto his erection and let Tom please her.

He caught her hips and held her against him, loving the feel of her soft, pliant body, the tightness of her insides, and the way she moaned when he deepened his plunge.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the edge of the tub, and her succulent breasts brushed lightly over his mouth.

Capturing one nipple, he feasted upon it, suckled, almost tasted her heartbeat.

His breath turned ragged as he poured his energy, his soul into their lovemaking. He thrust upward, driving into her again and again, listening to her purr and moan.

Her tangle of wet hair fluttered across his face as she rose, stealing her breasts away from his tongue, his lips. Tearing the tight, hot, and slick haven of her insides away from his erection.

He grabbed her arms as sheer dread ripped through his insides. “You're not planning on running away from me right this instant, are you?”

Angel grinned wickedly. Her tongue slid around her lips and then slowly, devilishly, she slipped a finger into her mouth and sucked it in and out. “No, sweetheart”—she winked—“I don't plan on running away. I have far too much to do right here in the tub with you.”

She slid down, down, down, her skin squeaking on the bottom of the marble, the curling ends of her long blond hair puddling on top of the bubbly water.

And then she slipped her hands beneath his butt, dragging his body up until his erection poked out of the bubbles, and she licked the very tip.

“Now, that I like a whole hell of a lot better than the thought of you running away,” Tom said.

She sucked the swollen head and he moaned, trying his damnedest to keep control of his body, to enjoy the pleasure of her mouth and her tongue and the nip of her teeth as she teased and almost consumed him whole.

He threw his arms over the sides of the oversize tub and held himself just high enough in the water so she'd have all the access she wanted, needed.

And he let her taste him. Taunt him. Drive him mad, bringing him nearly to the brink, then
pulling away just long enough to lick one of his nipples, to fondle his balls, rolling them around in the palms of her hands, before going down on him again.

“You know, sweetheart”—the words came out of Tom's mouth in a rush, along with a groan when her tongue flicked back and forth, back and forth over the very tip of him—“I don't think I can last much longer.”

Her smile was wild. Her eyes blazed. And she swept over his body, her legs straddling his hips, and lowered herself onto him. Down, down. Deep.

He had to be touching her heart by now, as every speck of him squeezed inside her. She was tight and wet and hot, and her blessed hips began to swirl and grind and bump, sending him almost over the edge.

But he'd be damned if he'd go without her.

He latched on to her hips and they rode the waves together, the water sloshing between them and over the rim of the tub as their abandoned ride grew wilder by the moment.

By the heartbeat.

With every moan and purr and groan.

Angel's breasts heaved with her raspy sighs. Her eyes closed, flickered. Her lips tilted up into a soft I-love-the-feel-of-this smile.

And then he felt her shudder inside. Tremble. Her whole body quaking, shivering, as spasm after spasm ripped through her and her smile became tinged with unrestrained passion.

He wove his fingers about her neck and
dragged her mouth down to his, tasted her, teased her, their tongues dancing together wildly.

Her cries of sheer, unadulterated pleasure rippled through his mouth and he knew, without a doubt, that somehow, in some strange way, something he'd never expected happened.

He fell in love with her.

Never wanted to leave her.

Ever.

And when every muscle in his body tightened, when he chose not to hold back any longer and let his life and his heart and his soul flow into her, he realized that even if he never found the answers that he wanted about his past, he could be whole.

And happy.

As long as Angel was at his side.

 

It was late afternoon when Tom watched Angel sweep her crimson sundress off the top of the big-screen TV in his bedroom and tug it over her head. Her body was made for loving, he thought as he zipped up his jeans and went to his dresser for a clean white T-shirt.

“You know, Angel, I've been thinking about tonight.”

Angel studied his still-naked chest and moved toward him, swirling her fingers over his pecs and tracing one perfectly polished red nail down to his abs and toying with his navel. “Chickening out?”

“I don't chicken out of anything. But…” Tom frowned. “Isn't there some unwritten rule that says a guy shouldn't meet a girl's parents until they're engaged?”

“Why?” Angel teased. “Are you thinking you should propose to me before I leave this morning?”

“At this stage of the game, I'm heavily into sex. I hadn't given any thought at all to a proposal, and I sure as hell haven't given marriage any thought.”

“You think I have?”

“Don't all women think about getting married?”

“I've been married. I'm in no big rush to do it again.”

“So the fact that I'm worth somewhere close to a billion dollars hasn't made you picture a ten-carat diamond on your wedding finger?”

Angel contemplated that for a moment, rubbing her chin with her thumb and index finger. “A billion dollars, huh?”

“Pretty damn close.”

“A ten-carat diamond?”

“That was something I threw out off the top of my head. If you wanted a twenty-carat diamond you could have that. But, and this is a big but, I haven't proposed and I have no plans to propose.”

Angel laughed. “Relax, Tom. It's just dinner. Chicken-fried steak. Mashed potatoes and gravy. And if there's a basketball game on tonight you'll have to watch it with my dad and root for his favorite team.”

“I don't root for the Lakers.”

“He doesn't, either.”

“He sounds like my kind of guy.”

“Yeah, but he might grill you.”

“Suddenly this isn't sounding so good.”

“It's just dinner, Tom. No strings attached.”

His hand slid around her waist. “You know, you never did tell me why Dagger's been watching me.”

“He seems to think you're looking for
The Embrace
.”

“Doesn't he realize that the police gave this place a thorough search after that blasted statue was stolen?”

“Understanding Dagger is like understanding the inner workings of a cesspool. I told him you don't have the statue. I told him you're not interested in the thing. Whether that keeps him from spying on you or not remains to be seen. But”—Angel smiled—“you might like this bit of information. According to Dagger, Holt never filed an insurance claim for
The Embrace
.”

Tom frowned. “That doesn't make sense. He must have had it insured for a small fortune.”

“I don't know any of the details, but you're right, it doesn't make sense. If it was stolen, he had every reason to claim the money.”

“And if it wasn't stolen and he knew it hadn't been stolen”—Tom grinned—“and he put in a claim, he'd be guilty of insurance fraud.”

“So,” Angel sighed, “if he didn't put in a claim, more than likely that means the blasted thing was never stolen. And if it was never stolen, why did he say your dad took it?”

“Now do you see why I want to talk to Holt?”

“Of course I see, but there's still the fact that Holt doesn't want to see you.”

Tom pulled her into his arms. “Talk with him,
Angel. Make him see that I'm not out for revenge. Make him see that I just want to talk—and ask him to see me.”

“I'll have to think about it.”

Tom kissed her softly. “Well, that puts us a few steps ahead of where we were this morning.”

“I'm warming up to the idea.”

“How about me warming you up a little more after dinner tonight? I'll rent a movie. I'll buy dark chocolates and strawberries and whipped cream.”

“Will you light a few candles?”

“Something tells me, sweetheart, that I just might do anything your little heart desires.”

Tom pulled her into his arms and kissed her, not yet ready to walk her out to her boat and let her go. He wanted to make love again, but those thoughts came to a halt when the doorbell rang.

“Don't leave yet,” Tom said, leaving Angel at the base of the stairs when he went to the entry and opened the front door.

“Tommy, dahling!”

Frederike LeVien stood on the doorstep, her face nearly invisible beneath a bright sunflower-shaped hat, complete with a couple of crystal bees hovering above it on thin gold wire. Her gigantic handbag matched the hat. So did her shoes, and her short round body was bedecked in flaming yellow.

“Good afternoon, Countess.”

Without invitation, she breezed into the mansion, carrying her two yappy dogs. It wasn't that he had anything against dogs, he just didn't like little ones, or ones that barked or snapped. Fred
erike's dogs were everything Tom despised. Especially since they'd interrupted his kiss with Angel.