A Man Like Him

by Rachel Brimble

  Angela turned off the message and stared at the digital time on her phone. Ten-thirty. It wasn’t that late...he’d probably still be up watching TV. In fact, he’d probably welcome an excuse to get away from the ever-present Inspector Garrett.

  Angela groaned into her pillow. Goddamn it. Every part of her wanted to see him, wanted to let him in. Wanted him to kiss her as he had before.

  Her body heated traitorously. If she invited him, would they just talk? Would he confess to whatever deed he’d committed and then leave? She highly doubted it. His desire was as clearly written in his eyes as it most likely was in hers. So why was she letting Robert do this? Why was she handing him back his power without a fight?

  To save Chris? Or herself? Her fear was paralyzing. Her memories and state of mind prevented her from moving forward. Angela closed her eyes. She needed to keep hold of the anger she’d felt when DI Garrett proved it wasn’t Robert at the restaurant. She needed to keep it burning bright and hot inside her. It would make her strong. It would make her fight for more than a solitary life. She glanced at the bedroom door. It would make her fight for Chris.

  Excitement and possibility prickled the hair along her arms and a smile pulled at her lips. She wasn’t the woman cowering in the corner anymore. She’d built a life she loved. Now it was time to add to that life, not subtract from it.

  Chris’s face filled her mind’s eye and Angela smoothed her hand over her breast through the cotton of her nightshirt. Unexpected sexual anticipation skittered across her skin and through her blood.

  The man was capable, sexy and worse, had no idea of the scope of female attention he drew. Angela couldn’t deny she wanted to get to know him better. Mentally and physically. His likes, dislikes, interests and thoughts all played on her mind equally as much as the lingering memory of his kiss and the strength of his hands. Disappointment and fear had turned her away from life, away from the freedom she longed for.

  She opened her eyes and tapped the phone against her bottom lip. The urge to call him pulsed through her. The need to take a risk and have him in her home when the lights were low and everything dark and scary was locked outside beat like the devil’s temptation inside her.

  Her smile faltered.

  But nothing was safe yet. Did the guy at the restaurant know Robert? Or was she seeing something that genuinely wasn’t there? Frustrated, she tossed back the covers and whipped her robe from the back of the chair beside her bed. She needed some tea, some hot milk, something to make her sleep and not call Chris.

  She marched into the kitchen and filled the kettle, putting a herbal tea bag in a mug. While the kettle boiled, she wandered into the living room. The light on her answering machine flashed ominously. The phone hadn’t rung since she’d been home and she hadn’t noticed it when she returned.

  Instinctively she glanced toward the front door then each window in turn. Trepidation tiptoed up her spine. Play it. Play the damn message.

  She hit the play button.

  “Hello, this is a message for Miss Angela Taylor. My name is Stephen Archer from the Daily Express. First of all, huge congratulations on your engagement. We’re thrilled some good has come out of the terrible flooding at the Cove.”

  “What?” Angela stared at the machine. “An engagement? What the hell...”

  “The call from Mr. Forrester announcing your engagement was really wonderful news and I apologize for not calling you both back sooner. Having now spoken to Mr. Forrester again, he told me you’re both more than happy to be interviewed tomorrow afternoon at three, but I just wanted to check in with you, too. As I’ve missed you, I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. Any changes, just give me a call on...”

  Angela jabbed the stop button. “Oh, my God. I’m going to kill him.”

  She sprinted into the bedroom, grabbed her cell from her bedside table and punched in Chris’s number. Her heart raced as the phone rang. How dare he? What the hell was he thinking?

  “Angela?”

  “What are you playing at?”

  “Um...”

  “We’re engaged? Engaged, Chris? What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Angela, listen to me. I’ve been trying to speak to you. I can explain—”

  “Explain? You can explain this? Good, because I’m all ears. I’ve just played a message from a local journalist on my answering machine—”

  “He phoned you? He promised—”

  “What did he promise? That he’d get me to the church on time?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Angela—”

  Heat rushed to Angela’s cheeks. “Don’t you dare laugh about this. You know what I’m going through. Why the hell would you pull something like this? I thought I could trust...” Her voice cracked.

  She closed her eyes, cursing her weakness, cursing the tears that broke and slipped down her cheeks.

  “Hey, you can trust me.” All trace of humor left his voice to be replaced with soft concern. “I’m coming over. There are things I need to tell you.”

  She swiped at her tears. “Damn right there are. I’ll see you here in ten minutes.” She snapped the phone shut and tossed it on the sofa. “Damn you, Chris. Damn you to hell.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  UNABLE TO SIT STILL, Angela paced the room waiting for Chris to arrive. Her body was wired and her mind set to overdrive. How could he do this to her? Engagement? Why would he ring the paper and say such a thing? She stopped pacing and put her hands on her hips. Chris might be impulsive and intuitive, but he was also passionate and loyal. There had to be some method to his madness.

  Angela scowled. There’d better be.

  The crunch of gravel outside brought her internal rant to an abrupt halt. She hurried to the door and looked out the side window. Chris emerged from the car.

  She flung back the bolts on her door and yanked it open. “My God, this had better be good.”

  He came toward her, his hands raised in surrender. “Let’s go inside.”

  She glared at him before pushing the door wide and turning back into the living room, leaving him to follow. Just a foot had lingered between them at the door and already that damned sandalwood smell of him had drifted into her senses. The man was a walking, tempting pain in the ass.

  The door slammed shut.

  Angela whirled around. “Well?”

  “I did it for you.”

  She leaned forward, her eyes wide. “What? You announced to the press we’re engaged, for me?”

  “Yes.”

  He brushed past her and tossed his keys onto her coffee table.

  Her gaze ran of its own accord over his checked shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing sinewy forearms. His soft cotton trousers fit him like...

  She blinked. What was wrong with her? So it had been two days? She hadn’t missed him. She narrowed her eyes. “Tell me how an engagement makes any of this better.”

  “If anything is going to make Masters lose control, it’s going to be that.” He moved toward her.

  Angela held up her hand like a shield. “Stay there.”

  His mouth twitched. “Right. Okay. Listen. If Masters thinks you’ve moved on, met someone, worse, fallen in love, he’s going to come out of hiding.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again and walked past him. God damn it. He had a point. She dropped onto the sofa and closed her eyes. “You still shouldn’t have told the press we were engaged.” The sofa shifted and the smell of him enveloped her senses once more.

  “Angela?”

  Reluctantly she opened her eyes. He’d not only sat next to her but was so close she was reflected in his eyes. “What?”

  “I went to the bar tonight.”

  She looked away. “Figures. You go out drinking and leave me to deal with your sis
ter and the fact she doesn’t believe a word I say. The guy at the bar and restaurant wasn’t Robert. So now, once again, I’m on my own.”

  “That’s why we’re going to find this guy and make him tell us what he knows.”

  Angela snapped her head around to look at him. “What?”

  He smiled, his eyes shining with renewed hope. “There is no way Cat is going to tell me where he is, or who he is, but my new bartender friend will. Our mystery man, funnily enough, seems to be new to town.”

  Angela’s anger simmered to curiosity, maybe even a little excitement. “And?”

  “And strange men coming into bars attract attention. The bartender saw you on the news. He saw Masters on the news and doesn’t want you getting hurt on his conscience. This guy will come back to the bar sooner or later. When he does, the bartender will do a little digging and ring me with what he finds out.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then I’ll go see this guy. Find out what he knows.”

  She raised her hand and glared at him. “Say that again.”

  “Then I’ll go see this guy.”

  “I swear to God, you don’t listen to me. If...if I agree to this completely absurd idea, we’ll go see him.” Angela tilted her chin. “Together.”

  His gaze hardened. “Angela...”

  She arched an eyebrow. “We’re engaged. We should do things together.”

  His gaze softened and he smiled. “Fine.”

  She nodded as satisfaction furled inside her. The idea of a fake engagement was entirely off the wall but she couldn’t deny it would bring Robert out of hiding. She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. “It was my picture in the paper that started this living nightmare, Chris. You did something without any thought for me or my feelings. Robert was no different.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m nothing like him. This is nothing like something he would do. I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to help you.”

  Angela shook her head. “I’m so scared of getting this wrong a second time.”

  He took her hands with his and stared deep into her eyes. “This isn’t wrong. What’s happening between us is too good to be wrong. I’m not prepared to wait for him to show up anymore, and if my instinct’s right, neither are you. If he wants you, we need a way to get him here without all this stupid chasing around. Once we know where he is, Cat can arrest him. Then we...you, can do what you want. You’ll be free of him. This time for longer than you could’ve hoped for.”

  She slid her hands from his and crossed her arms. “You want us to act as bait? Lure him here?”

  He nodded.

  Angela frowned and darted her gaze over his face. The seconds ticked by and twice she opened her mouth and closed it again. She pointed her finger at him, dropped it and planted her hands on her hips. “And you think your sister will be okay with this? Luring a dangerous man to her jurisdiction. Letting a civilian, her brother, get involved in a potentially lethal situation?”

  He grimaced. “No. I think she’s going to have a meltdown, but it was Cat who pushed me to come and see you after the flood. I wanted to so much, but the way you looked at me on the roof...you were telling me to stay away.”

  She nodded, tears smarting her eyes. “I was...when really I wanted you to stay with me.”

  He smiled. “Well, then I’m glad Cat’s as pushy as she is because from now on, you’re stuck with me. We’ll see the journalist tomorrow, and our picture could be in the paper along with our announcement the next day. We’ll wait for Cat’s reaction then.”

  “Our announcement?” She arched an eyebrow. “You make it sound like we’re living in 1810. It’s an engagement, Chris. A fake one.” She whirled away. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “We have no idea what he’s thinking, or who this mystery man at the bar and restaurant is. For all we know, he could be someone equally as mad as Robert.”

  His footsteps whispered over the carpet and Angela’s heart beat faster. If he touched her...

  “Angela?”

  She forced herself to turn around. He stood close. She met his eyes and her resistance weakened.

  “If we do this, you know Robert is going to be angrier than ever, don’t you?”

  His gaze ran over her face. “Yes.”

  “If we don’t do this right...”

  He took her hand and held it between his. “We’ll figure this out and make sure we’re the ones in control at all times. We can do this.”

  Angela stared. She’d been alone in her marriage and for so long since, fear and doubt mixed and clung to her defenses. Deep inside, she longed to trust him. “I don’t know.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Let me in. Please.”

  For a long moment she said nothing as indecision battled inside her. She inhaled a shaky breath. “You really believe this guy at the bar and restaurant is in the Cove because of me? Because he knows Robert?”

  Chris nodded. “Yes.”

  He believes me. Relief flooded through her and Angela surrendered. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  She gave a small smile. “If you believe me...if you believe he’s here and connected in some way to Robert, then I know you don’t think I’m crazy. That...changes everything.”

  He leaned closer, his gaze drifting to her mouth. “I believe you. I believe in you.”

  Her heart pounded. He believed in her as a woman who could think for herself, feel for herself, knew who she was and what she wanted. Euphoria rose up inside her and her desire for him soared. She stepped closer, licked her lips as liberty raced through her blood making her want to kiss him.

  She knew it was dangerous to trust him, knew she should have still been mad, ask so many more questions, but when he closed the final inches of space between them and put his hands on her waist, she let him.

  His mouth covered hers and she melted against him. He didn’t think she was crazy. Didn’t think she was paranoid or helpless.

  She met his tongue as it dipped into her mouth. She brought her arms up to his biceps, higher over shoulders as hard as brick and into his hair at his nape. She pulled him closer and took every second of the kiss to hold in her heart forever.

  After a moment, she pulled away and stared into his beautiful eyes. “Stay there. I’ll be two minutes.”

  Before she could change her mind or even think, Angela hurried into the bedroom. She shut the door and released her held breath. Her body ached with want and desire hummed high between her legs.

  The sensation so unfamiliar, it was unnerving. It had been so long since she’d thought of sex, of a man touching her in any other way than with threat or violence, that she needed a moment to relish the sensation. Chris wouldn’t hurt her. She sensed he’d be gentle and coaxing. Whisper soft words of encouragement as liquid need pooled at her core.

  I’m going to do this. If he wants me, I’m going to do this.

  She pushed away from the door and hurried to her bureau. A bubble of laughter tickled her throat. She wanted him to take her without hesitation or question. She looked down at her pajamas bottoms and T-shirt and heat seared her cheeks. What she wore certainly wasn’t sending a message of seduction. It might be too late to erase this image from his head, but not too late to add a new one.

  What to wear? What to do with her hair? She smiled. She was ready. She was ready and the only possible way she could see it through was not to think or question what she was doing. She wanted this and would give herself fully. No restraints. No second guesses. No doubts. She could control the physical side; the emotions would be harder to deal with when he realized just how damaged she was.

  Angela shook her head to rid it of the negative thoughts bashing at her self-confidence. She lifte
d a cream satin nightshirt from the dresser drawer. She’d bought it on a whim and never worn it. It wasn’t particularly sexy, just a short-sleeve shirt, almost like a man’s shirt, that reached to her mid-thigh. She pulled her old T-shirt over her head, took off her pajama bottoms and slid on the satin shirt instead.

  The soft silkiness of it against her bare skin felt empowering and made her feel like a woman. That was more important than Chris could ever understand.

  Shutting the drawer, she walked to her dressing table and sat. She applied a couple of coats of mascara and the faintest hint of nude lip gloss. A girl had some standards. Then she wrenched the ratty hair band from her ponytail and shook out her hair. She grimaced. She looked like something out of a horror movie. She brushed her hair until it shone and fell over her shoulders in soft waves then grimaced again. Too staged.

  Standing, she tipped her head upside down and scrunched her hair in her hands before giving it a shake and standing straight again. She looked in the mirror and grinned. Just the right amount of “yes, my hair always looks like this when I get out of bed.”

  Nerves jumped and leaped in her stomach. Chris still sat on the couch and she slowly made her way into the kitchen, praying he didn’t hear her, not yet. She flicked on the lighting underneath the counter-top cupboards and golden light spilled softly across the room. She opened the fridge and grimaced at the noise. She instantly felt his gaze on her. She pulled out a bottle of white wine and turned.

  “How about a drink?”

  He frowned and arched an eyebrow. “Are we...okay now? You’re not mad at me?”

  Angela turned to another cupboard and took out two glasses. She swallowed as nerves threatened. No. She could do this. She wanted this. This was about her taking her power back. It had been so very long since she’d wanted physical contact with a man. She was scared of what it meant, but God, she wouldn’t let this need go unanswered.