A Man Like Him

by Rachel Brimble

“Uh-huh.”

  He took her hand. “I can’t stay away. I’ve tried. I can’t do it, so I don’t want you to ask me to, okay?”

  The stubbornness was rife in his tone. He sounded like his sister and Angela fought the warmth that threatened to steal into her veins. She couldn’t allow herself to lean on either of them without the terrifying knowledge she had no guarantee she or they would come out of this unscathed.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Chris—”

  “I know who he is. I know what he’s capable of, and I won’t leave you to deal with this alone. I can’t.”

  She opened her eyes as panic thundered into her heart. “What do you mean you know who he is?”

  The skin at his neck shifted. “I’ve done some research. I know what he did to you.”

  Heat seared her face as shame engulfed her. “Right.”

  It was the scars inside that took the longest to heal. Whatever Chris thought he knew, he didn’t know the half of it. No one did.

  “He called me, Angela. He’s coming.”

  Angela snapped her head up so quickly, her neck cricked. Her hand trembled in his. “What?”

  “Let’s walk.”

  Terror gripped her limbs and held on. She should have pulled her hand away but feared she’d crumple to the ground if she did. Robert had called him? Questions and disbelief whirled like a tornado in her mind as Chris led them to the makeshift tent that housed tea, coffee and water for the workers. This changed everything. It was one thing to keep Chris at a safe distance, but if Robert had called him...Chris was slap-bang in the middle of her life whether he wanted to be or not.

  They sat down on two folding chairs, their knees touching. He stared into her eyes. “I started investigating Masters myself today.”

  She closed her eyes. “Why did you do that? Didn’t I ask you to stay out of this?”

  “Angela, look at me.”

  Didn’t he have any idea how hard it was to not look at him? She slowly opened her eyes and waited.

  He lifted his hand toward her face and then lowered it again as though catching himself. “I...I have a good idea of just what we’re dealing with now. The man is obsessed.”

  A strange sense of relief lowered her shoulders when she saw the understanding burning in his eyes. “Yes.”

  “I came here as soon as I put down the phone. As far as I know, he isn’t here...yet.”

  Angela shook and raw fear for him tore through her. “You need to go back to Reading. I don’t want you here.”

  “Listen to me.” This time he did touch her. His palm was strong and smooth against her jaw. “I want to help you through this. I have to. Whether you like it or not...I care about you.”

  She stared. The reciprocating words battled for release on her tongue. She pinched her lips tightly closed.

  “Look around you.” He gestured toward the devastation of the park. “We’ve survived a flood. I’m not going to walk away and leave you to deal with that man. Let me do this. Let me help. Please.”

  She shook her head as frustrated tears pricked hot behind her eyes. “I have to deal with this alone.” She pushed to her feet and turned her back to him. “I can’t let him back me into a corner. I can’t let him make me lean on anybody.”

  The shuffle and scrape of his chair veered her stretched nerves to fever pitch and Angela tensed. Go away. Don’t touch me. If he did, the outcome could be catastrophic. If he did, she might hold on to him. Need him. Want him. The subtle musk of sandalwood enveloped her senses as he came to stand behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut. No, no, no.

  “He told me you were his and to leave you alone. Told me if I didn’t, he’d make your life a living hell.”

  Fear once again squeezed her heart and she turned. “He said that?”

  He nodded, his jaw tight. “The man is a coward. A coward who takes on women face-to-face and men from a distance. Now we have two choices here. To stand together and let him know he’s no longer calling the shots or I back off and he sees that he is. Which is it going to be?”

  She stared, her gaze moving over his face to linger a moment on his lips. Would it hurt to risk one kiss? To feel the sensation of his mouth on hers. She snapped her eyes to his. A minimally safer place to look. “I’ve never let myself feel anything for someone for this exact reason. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Gratification lit his gaze and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Angela swallowed. She damn near admitted she cared for him as he did her. Control of the situation edged a little further away.

  He leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  She closed her eyes and her heart swelled. He was so gentle. So different... How had this happened? For so long, no man, woman or child had even made a nick to her protective wall and then Chris Forrester came along and took out fifty bricks of it without breaking a sweat.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He smiled. “I like you. A lot. Maybe too much to be good for either of us, but there it is. I’m not running anymore, and I’m not turning my back on you.”

  She opened her eyes. Nothing but sincerity stared back at her and the soft scent of a new future wafted under her nose only to be snatched away again by the gathering breeze. Angela shook her head. “I can’t do this, Chris. It’s too risky.”

  “Don’t you want a future? Marriage? A family of your own one day?” His voice was gentle, smooth—cautious.

  Tears burned behind her eyes. God, she did. So much. She tilted her chin. “No.”

  Silence.

  He frowned, his hazel eyes searching hers. “I don’t believe you. Don’t let him destroy your future. Don’t let him think this is it. A life of turning away and living alone.”

  Pain tore at her heart and soul. She wanted everything he’d just mentioned and more. She looked away. “If you care about me, you’ll do as I ask. What is it you want from me?”

  “Nothing more than you’re willing to give.”

  She faced him and willed some fortitude into her voice. “Good. Then why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “Because I left my father alone and I left my mother alone... Dad’s dead, Mum’s barely alive. This isn’t about me pursuing you. Melinda ripped my heart out when she slept with someone else. I don’t need a relationship any more than you do right now, but I won’t ignore these feelings I’ve got for you.”

  Euphoria that he saw her as a woman, a lover, rather than a victim, threatened to burst behind her rib cage. His eyes were filled with angst and vulnerability.

  She shook her head. “Your feelings don’t matter any more than mine do. Why can’t you see that? He won’t let me go. Not ever.”

  “He will.”

  Fear for his safety flared like a lit spark inside her. “Goddamn it. You’re not listening to me.”

  Anger darkened his eyes and he glared. “I’m listening to you. I hear your voice in my head and see your face in my mind every minute I’m not with you. I’m here to the end whether you want me or not. I’ve been an asshole in the past, and I don’t want to be an asshole about this...about you.”

  Angela stared. She couldn’t weaken. “I’m not your problem. I don’t need your help. You need to leave before you become more of a problem to me than I ever could be to you.”

  She moved to walk away and he grabbed her wrist. “What does that mean?”

  “It means if Robert kills you, then what?” She glared, hating the defensiveness in her voice. Who in their right mind would want to get mixed up with a woman under attack? “How would I live knowing it was because of me you’re dead?”

  He shook his head with a wry smile as disdain flared in his eyes. “He’s not going to kill me. Men who beat women do not face men. They can’t. They’re too bloody
weak.”

  “I’m not willing to take that risk. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you, period.” The lie ripped from deep in her heart and came out in a flurry of regret. “Now leave me alone.”

  She snatched her wrist from his grip and stormed from the tent, her heart beating so fast it made her dizzy. Yearning for something you couldn’t have struck deep. Chris looked at her as more than a victim, more than a woman in hiding. Yet it hurt knowing he felt the need to protect her for his own damn reasons rather than because he truly cared for her.

  Blood roared in her ears, making the noise around her fade until it sounded as though it was behind a cushioned wall. She reached out to grab the wall beside her as dots flashed and danced in front of her eyes. No. Not now. Not again.

  Everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHRIS’S HEART LEAPED into his throat as Angela fell to the ground, the side of her face hitting the grass.

  “Shit.”

  He sprinted from the door of the tent and dropped to his knees beside her. The impact of the grass had softened her fall, but she was out cold. He leaned over her, gently stroking the fallen hair from her face. She looked asleep and the lack of frown lines at her brow and her slightly open mouth held him mesmerized.

  She must be constantly weighed down with worry and tension 24/7 because, in the handful of times Chris had seen her, she’d never looked this relaxed. She looked more beautiful than ever. He swallowed. How could he have delivered his intentions so brutally that he sent her running, spinning away from his intensity, making her faint?

  “Angela?” He gently smoothed the hair back from her face and brushed his fingers along her jawline before stealing his thumb across her lower lip. “Angela? Angela, come on, sweetheart. Wake up.”

  Her eyelids fluttered and she mumbled a few incoherent words. The whisper of her breath passing across his thumb reminded Chris he shouldn’t be touching her so intimately. He slipped his hand from her face just as her eyes opened.

  She stared, her dark chocolate eyes dazed and confused. “Chris?”

  He winked. “Hi.”

  She smiled and then her eyes widened and she attempted to sit bolt upright, but he gently pressed her shoulders. “Whoa. Take a minute. You fainted.”

  Beads of perspiration glistened on her upper lip and along her hairline, but she collapsed back onto the grass as he asked.

  “I’m so embarrassed.” She gave a wry laugh. “I haven’t done that in so long.”

  “You’ve fainted before?”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes. A lot when Robert...” She nodded. “A lot.”

  Guilt pressed down on his chest and he grimaced. “Was it me? What I said?”

  She opened her eyes, a softness shining in their depths. “Probably, but it’s not your fault. I had a panic attack. I used to get so overwhelmed by what-ifs and maybes when Robert was first sent away, and now...and now I’m back there again because of him, not you.”

  “God. I didn’t mean—”

  “I have to be stronger this time. I am stronger. I won’t let him ruin my life a second time. This isn’t your fault.”

  Chris smiled as a little of his guilt evolved into relief to see the flash of determination in her gaze. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  She wiped her hand over her face. “I’m fine now, honestly. I want to get up before I cause more unwanted attention than I already have.”

  Chris looked around them. A few people threw curious glances their way but most of them were too immersed in their work to even notice what was going on behind them. “You’re fine.”

  “I’m still getting up.” She moved to a sitting position and this time Chris didn’t stop her.

  He pushed to his feet and offered his hand. She hesitated before sliding her palm across his. He grasped it tightly and hauled her to her feet. The strength of the maneuver meant her forehead came just inches away from his mouth. Time stood still and only their breathing filled the silence. God help him, it would be the most natural thing in the world to kiss her.

  He stepped back before the need to put his mouth to hers became too much to fight. “I’ll give you a lift home then, shall I?”

  She blinked and turned to look around. “Home? No way. I’ve got too much to do here. I can’t leave.”

  “Angela, you fainted. It’s not a good idea to start lifting stuff around and dealing with all this today.”

  She met his gaze. “I’ll be fine. Come on. If you want to help, you can come to the office and help me make a start in there.” She flashed him a small smile. “I think I can trust you enough to keep secret any confidential stuff we salvage.”

  He grinned. “I’ll take any part of your trust I can get, and we’ll build from there.”

  She opened her mouth to say more, panic rushing into her gaze once more before she blinked, pulled her mouth tightly shut and walked away.

  Chris fell into step beside her and drew in a deep breath. They had to discuss Masters’s phone call and then call Cat. He’d battled with his conscience of whether to call her straight away but had gone with intuition that Angela should know first. He’d driven first to her house and then the park, looking for her, cursing and swearing through the journey that he wouldn’t leave without her phone number this time.

  He studied her as she walked ahead of him. She might be trying to fool him with the notion that Masters had no chance of getting to her a second time, but there’d been true fear in her eyes. Chris narrowed his gaze. Well, surely Masters making phone calls was enough to constitute the police tossing the bastard’s ass in jail.

  For the time being, though, he’d work with Angela and hope the minimal trust she had in him blossomed into more.

  * * *

  ANGELA PUT DOWN the empty crates they’d picked up on the way to the park office and pulled the key from her jeans pocket. She inserted it into the lock and took a calming breath. Chris stood right behind her and she fought the fear rolling around inside her on a tumbling, undulating wave. Fear of his admission that he liked her and her blatant lie she didn’t feel the same. What did their feelings mean? Where would they take them? She’d fainted. After all this damn time. Right in front the man who said he wanted to take care of her.

  She’d practically handed him further reason to stay by her side.

  He felt something for her and that made her feel worthy of a man’s attention again. Yet his need to help was also steeped in a bid to right some wrongs in his own life. What had he done in the past that he wanted to change so badly he’d risk his life? Angela hated the suspicion it was more than his absence from his family when they needed him most. Then again, she had a feeling that would be reason enough for a man like Chris to beat himself up over and over.

  She pushed open the door and picked up the crates. She didn’t need nor want someone else’s issues. She had more than enough of her own. Yes, she wanted a future with someone but with someone who had a steadier game plan than she did. When she met the man she was supposed to be with, he’d know exactly who he was and what the hell he wanted to do from here on in. Chris wasn’t that person.

  The last thing she needed was a guy on the rebound from a broken engagement—a guy still clearly dealing with the loss of his parents in one form or another. Her heart ached for him, longed to comfort him...but she didn’t have the strength. Especially right now.

  Angela stepped inside and gestured for Chris to follow. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we can leave for the day.”

  Silence.

  She turned. “Chris?”

  “What?” He didn’t look at her but instead his gaze wandered over the ruined carpet and upturned desks. “Holy cow. What a mess.” He put the crates he was carrying down at his feet.

  Angela couldn’t have agreed more. Papers had spilled
from overturned shelving and swivel chairs were slung on their sides up against the walls. The astounding height the floodwater had risen to showed in the murky gray line more than halfway up the once white walls. Forgotten coats and jackets lay entangled among the debris, a handbag bereft of its contents hung limply from the askew coatrack. Mounds of paper lay curled and destroyed all around them, reminding her of the sails of rafts that she wished the twenty-five people who died that day could’ve clung to.

  She sighed. “We’re lucky to be here.”

  He turned and met her gaze. “Exactly. That’s why I’m not wasting my life anymore...and neither are you.”

  Before she could respond, Chris brushed past her, the sodden carpet squishing with mud and water beneath his feet as he crossed to the window. He looked through the glass, his hands gripping the windowsill. “We need to clear this place up, make it brand-new. Let people believe anything can be started over. Everyone can get back to normal.”

  Angela frowned. Was he talking about the park or himself? She’d bet on the latter. She heaved the crates atop the reception desk. “This is going to take weeks and weeks to sort out.”

  “You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about you, Masters...us.”

  The word us reverberated in her mind. “There is no ‘us,’ Chris.”

  He shook his head but didn’t turn around. When he didn’t say anything else, Angela crossed her arms. Why wouldn’t he listen to her? She was giving him a “get out of jail free” card and he continually tossed it back in her face.

  “You’re clinging to me for the wrong reasons. I’m not what you need right now. Even without the threat of Robert turning up here, I’m not the person you want to start anything with.”

  “Don’t you think I have a part to play in that decision?”

  How was she supposed to answer that? Everyone had the right to make their own decisions. She believed that with a passion after what Robert had done to her, the confidence he’d stripped from her mind and soul. “Of course you do but—”

  “If things were different, would you go to dinner with me? Want to get to know me?”