The scars for one thing.
Angela shuddered, remembering the deep gash on Liam’s chest, the thin white scars on his back. They didn’t look like scars from fighting, but she didn’t know enough to be sure. There were bruises too, but those looked fresh; she assumed they were from the gym.
Her head was throbbing again. She wished she’d taken Sophie’s offer of tea. Pulling a pillow to her chest, she rolled over, burrowing into the sheets. The scent of the shampoo from Liam’s shower was in her hair and she turned her face against her pillow, closing her eyes, inhaling the scent. It brought an instant image of Liam to her mind, of his body in the shower, what he’d done to her.
A shiver ran through Angela as she played it back, his body pressing her against the tiles, the sheer strength of his hands. She clutched the pillow, a thump of arousal hitting her low in her belly, a smile playing about her lips.
As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about Liam, the startling contrasts contained in that one person: the tough guy who beat up thugs in the street, the guy Laura called a punk. But a guy with the charming smile. The guy she’d thought was arrogant, who scared her at first with his aggression but ended up being so tender, seemingly so very vulnerable in her arms. The man who was generous enough to spend his money on her, when it was obvious he didn’t have any.
He was like no man she’d ever met.
The chirp of her cell phone woke her up. She was groggy, stumbling out of bed, searching through the pile of clothes on the floor for her purse.
“Hello?” Her voice was raspy with sleep.
“Angela? Oh, shit...I woke you up, didn’t I?”
She was instantly alert. “Oh, Liam. Yes...no, I mean. It’s okay. I’m glad you called.”
She crawled back in bed, sitting up against the headboard. There were noises in the background, yells and shouts, the unmistakable sounds of someone being punched. Liam’s voice was almost lost in the din.
“Where are you?”
“At the gym.”
She laughed. “That explains the noises...I thought for a minute you were in another fight.”
In the background she heard someone yelling Liam’s name.
“Listen, I gotta go in a minute. But I want to see you, soon.”
“Tonight?” Her heart did a little flip.
“I have something else to do tonight...tomorrow.”
“Oh...”
“Sorry. If I could, I’d change it, but it’s work.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll let you get away with that. Tomorrow then.”
There was a low laugh on the other end of the line. “Yeah...tomorrow. I’ll take you some place nice for dinner.”
The yelling in the background was louder, someone near the phone shouting Liam’s name. There was a muffled conversation and then Liam was back.
“I’m up next. Look, I’ll call you tomorrow with the time and place, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Angela...”
There was a pause. The noises on the other ended faded away for a moment. Liam’s voice was startlingly clear.
“I’m really looking forward to seeing you... I had a really great time last night.”
She could almost see Liam’s lips curving into that seductive grin, even though at the moment he sounded like a shy teenager thanking her for going to the movies.
“I had a...wonderful time too, Liam.” She cringed. ‘Wonderful’ didn’t quite describe how it had been.
The noises in the background started up again. She could barely hear Liam.
“I have to go.”
And the line went dead.
Angela lay back against the pillows, the phone in her hand. She thought about Liam, the contradictions in him. And she remembered the scars on his back, across his chest. She wondered if she’d ever know how he got them, if he’d ever confide in her.
She shook her head. You’re getting ahead of yourself here. Let’s have an actual date first.
An excited little shiver ran up her back. A date with Liam. She smiled. Laura would cringe, give her a lecture. And Rachel...she wasn’t sure what Rachel would say.
Impulsively she dialed Rachel’s number. Her reaction was immediate.
“You! You went home with him! How could you?”
Apparently Rachel wasn’t going to be happy to hear that Angela had accepted an actual date with Liam.
“Oh, well...it just happened.” That’s close enough to the truth.
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “So...did you make out? Did you spend the night?”
“Make out? How old are you, Rachel? Twelve? And yes...” Angela hesitated. “I spent the night.” She wasn’t sure how much detail she wanted to give Rachel. Part of her wanted to go over every look, every word said, every move made, like she’d done with every other boyfriend. But part of her wanted to keep this private, to keep this...whatever it was...between her and Liam. Liam seemed like such a private person. The last thing she thought he’d want was her telling Rachel about their night together...or anything else about him, at this point.
“And? Details, please. You know it’s been a long time for me.”
Angela could almost picture Rachel, her eyes bright, waiting to hear every last thing that was said, every kiss...everything else.
“Rachel...I don’t think so. Not this time.”
“Oh, so he was really terrible in bed?”
“No...I mean, that’s not it.”
There was a beat of silence. “Are you ready to admit it was just a one-night stand and you made a mistake? That slumming with some Bronx punk who beat up some other guys really wasn’t all that you thought it would be?”
Angela frowned at the phone. Rachel wasn’t usually so catty.
“Um, no. I mean...it’s private. Why are you so upset over this?”
“I’m not.” There was a petulant note to her voice, something Angela recognized. She was jealous. Angela remembered going through this with Rachel in high school. You’d think she’d have outgrown this by now.
“Rachel, really. I think you’re jealous.” Angela tried for a teasing tone to her voice, not sure it would work.
“Me? Over that guy? Please...” there was the sound of a lighter; Rachel only smoked when she was upset.
Angela realized it was time to change the subject. “Okay. So what are you doing today?”
“Me? Well, Mark is coming by to take me out tonight, on a real date.” Angela heard the smug note in Rachel’s voice, thought about letting the comment pass, but couldn’t resist.
“Oh, so Mark is your boyfriend now? I thought you two were ‘just friends.’ Your parents don’t like him, do they?” Mark was a nice guy, a junior something at some firm. Rachel’s parents thought he wasn’t quite what they wanted for a future son-in-law.
“At least we’re going to a place where the floor isn’t sticky with spilled beer or worse...probably...vomit.”
“Well, as it happens, I have my own real date with Liam tomorrow.” Angela cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Rachel took a deep breath. There was whoosh as she exhaled cigarette smoke and then a cough. Rachel wasn’t adept at smoking and talking at the same time. She was usually inhaling at the wrong moment. Angela suspected there was a scathing reply waiting to be uttered. But she cut her off.
“Listen, someone’s looking for me here. I’ll call you later.”
Angela flung the phone down on the bed. She’d known Rachel since primary school and she loved her dearly, most of the time. But lately, there’d been times when it was all Angela could do to not fly into a fury with the girl. This was just the latest example.
She realized she was hungry. No one had called her for dinner and she wondered if anyone was even home.
Sophie was in the kitchen, putting away dishes.
“Sophie, is anyone here besides me?”
“Oh, Miss Angela. You’re awake. No, your mother is out and your father called to say he was having dinner with a client. Would you
like me to make you something? There’s salmon or I can make you a salad.”
Angela made a face. “Not salmon. I’ll have salad, please.”
She slid onto one of the kitchen island stools. “How long has my mother been out?”
Sophie was rummaging in the refrigerator and Angela waited while she piled ingredients for a salad on the counter.
“I don’t know, Miss Angela.” Sophie busied herself with the lettuce and tomatoes, not meeting Angela’s eyes.
“Did she say when she’d be back?” Angela reached for a slice of carrot, popping it into her mouth.
“No...you should probably ask your father. I...don’t know anything else.”
Angela frowned. Sophie was the eyes and ears of the household.
“Did my father say when he’d be home?”
“He said late, probably not until after ten o’clock.”
Sophie passed the plate of salad to Angela, setting out a glass of iced tea. Angela picked at the greens, wondering, not for the first time, where her mother was. Something wasn’t adding up, but she couldn’t really place her finger on what it was, aside from Sophie’s sudden lack of knowledge in household comings and goings.
After she’d finished dinner, she headed back upstairs, finding the novel she’d started reading. It was long past midnight when she heard someone coming down the hall. There was a brief knock and her father stuck his head into her room.
“You’re up late, Angel. Can’t sleep? Or just a good book?” He nodded at the novel she held in her hands.
“A little of both. I had a nap this afternoon, so I’m not tired. And the book is really good.”
“Well, I’m tired enough for both of us. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Dad. Sleep well.”
Angela slipped a bookmark between the pages, setting the book on her nightstand. It was a romance, a Scottish highlander in love with an English woman...a terrible combination, given the time and place. But they were in love and that was all that mattered. Angela thought about her parents, wondered if they’d ever been that much in love.
And she thought about Liam; wild Liam, unpredictable...maybe dangerous. But so very handsome and...well, the rest made her blush.
It was a long time before she fell asleep, images of Liam interwoven with dashing Scotsmen filling her head.
It was late the next day when she woke. Her father was already at work, her mother not back from wherever she’d gone. The rest of the day crawled by. She could barely sit still, waiting for Liam to call. Sophie was busy and didn’t have time to talk. Television was boring. Nothing seemed to make the time go faster, not even reading about her Scottish Highlander.
She finally dozed off on her bed, clutching her book to her chest.
Sounds from the hall woke her, voices trying to be quiet but not quite succeeding.
She let out a sigh, stretching, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. It was almost evening; she hoped her mother was home, or better yet, that her father was home from work.
As she came down the stairs, she heard voices in the study; she recognized her father’s deep voice, her mother’s higher pitched and seemingly continuous. By the sound, her mother had had a few drinks and had launched into her complaint list for the day.
Angela sighed, walking through the door.
“And I don’t understand why you can’t be...” Her mother broke off in mid-sentence, catching sight of Angela.
“Angela, darling. Why are you in those clothes? It’s almost time for dinner. You know I can’t abide you not being dressed for dinner.”
Angela rolled her eyes. “Okay, mother. In a minute.”
“You don’t have a minute. The Preston’s are expected shortly. Please...you need to get dressed.” Her mother rose from her wing chair, all pearls and fluttering hands and clucking tongue.
“Oh, Celeste, leave her alone for a minute.” Her father rose from the loveseat, beaming at Angela. “Come here, Angel. Give your old man a kiss.”
Angela sidestepped her mother, walking into her father’s embrace. She loved the scent of his clothes: his cologne, starch from his shirt and sometimes tobacco from the pipe he occasionally smoked.
Her father hugged her hard, kissing the top of her head before holding her away from him, hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. He sat back on the loveseat, picking up his glass.
“Did you sleep well?” Her father took a sip of his bourbon.
“Have you recovered from your wild night out on the town?” Her mother looked at Angela over the rim of her cocktail glass.
Angela’s father shot his wife a withering glance, then looked back at Angela.
“Angela?”
Before she could answer, her mother cut in again. “Sophie told me all about it, so there’s no denying it.”
Angela made a face, rolling her eyes before turning back to her father. “I wasn’t going to deny it. I was out with Rachel and Laura. I tried calling, but no one was home.”
Her father shook his head. “You know I don’t like you staying out all night, but if you were with Laura and Rachel, I guess it’s alright.”
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad. I survived college, you know.”
“I know,” her father replied with a grin.
“Why do I have to have dinner with you and the Preston’s? I have plans...” Her mother interrupted her. Angela slumped down on the loveseat next to her father.
“Because they’re bringing Adam and you two are dating. Why else?” Her mother had settled back into her wing chair, taking a delicate sip from her martini, a smug look on her face. Angela scowled at her mother.
“Mom, I told you last week Adam and I aren’t dating anymore. I don’t want to sit through a dinner with him. That’s going to be horrible.” She turned to her father.
“Dad, please?” Angela tilted her head at her father.
“I’m sorry, Angela. Your mother is right. It would be rude not to be there. You can always change your plans...I’m sure Rachel or Laura will understand.”
“But...it’s not...I have a date.” Angela didn’t want to explain who the date was with, but she certainly didn’t want to sit through dinner with someone she’d just broken up with.
“Angela, I’ll have no more arguments. I’m sure it’s just a silly disagreement between you and Adam.” Her mother consulted her watch, a faint frown creasing her forehead.
“You have just about thirty minutes to be presentable.” There was a finality in that statement that made Angela realize there was no winning this argument. Even her father knew when to back away from her mother. Angela cast one more glance at her dad. He shook his head, shrugging.
“Sorry, love. It’ll be fine. Just go get ready.” He leaned over, kissing her cheek.
Angela trudged up the stairs in resignation. How was she going to tell Liam?
She grabbed her cell phone, flipping it open. How was she going to tell Liam? The number he’d called from showed as Murray’s Gym. She’d assumed he’d called from his cell phone.
“Oh, shit.” She dialed the number. It rang for long minutes before a gruff voice answered.
“Murray’s.”
“Um...hello. I’m looking for Liam...”
“This isn’t his answering service, lady.”
“It’s...it’s sort of an emergency.”
“He ain’t here. Try his home or cell phone or something.” The phone banged down, making her wince.
Angela paced back and forth, finally tearing open her closet, looking for something to wear for dinner.
“He said he’d call...he said he’d call...” She repeated it like a mantra as she pulled on a simple green dress. Her hair was disheveled, slept-in messy. The comb tangled in the knots as she dragged it through her hair, but she barely felt it. Call, Liam. Dammit...call.
Dinner was interminable. The Preston’s were apparently oblivious as well to the fact she’d broken up with their son. She knew as soon as her mother got h
er alone she’d be reprimanded for being sullen during dinner, but she didn’t care. She and Adam avoided speaking, even though they were seated side by side.
Angela had her cell phone in her lap, fidgeting, waiting for it to vibrate. When it did, she jumped, spilling water on her dress.
“Oh!” She sprang back from the table, her phone clutched in her hand. “I’ll be right back.”
She ducked around the corner into the hall, pressing the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” she whispered.
“Angela? I can barely hear you.”
“I’m...something’s come up. I can’t go out with you tonight.”
*
Liam scowled at his phone. Something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure what was setting off the prickly feeling along the back of his neck. He usually wasn’t wrong about women and he could usually tell when someone wasn’t being honest. Angela was interested, more than interested. But the tension in her voice told him there was more behind her words, something she didn’t want to tell him.
Dinner with the parents. Liam thought that part was true, but her whole manner, speech...whispered conversation...set off warning bells.
He flipped his phone shut, stuffing it into his pocket. She’d said she’d call him later. I’ll call her first.
Liam stalked down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, Angela on his mind. He wanted to see her...wanted her again, more than any woman he’d met. That surprised him. Not many women made a repeat showing in Liam’s life; few ever made a second appearance in his bed.
But he wanted to spend time with her, get to know her. Try to understand where she was coming from.
He walked for as long as he thought it would take for her to have dinner, even a long dinner with her parents. Pulling out his phone, he hit redial. The phone rang long enough that he thought it would go to voicemail, but she picked up.
“Hey, babe.”
“Liam?” Angela’s voice was soft.
“Angela...I want to see you...tonight. We can still go out, still have a date.”
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 20