Angel Mine

Home > Romance > Angel Mine > Page 17
Angel Mine Page 17

by Sherryl Woods


  Ironically, Flo had proved herself to be more than capable of running his office smoothly. More important, she was trying to form a new bond with Tess. After a lot of years of rough breaks and bad decisions, she was doing her best to straighten out her life, and Todd had to give her a lot of credit for that. A little voice inside nagged that if Flo deserved a second chance after her past mistakes, maybe he did, too.

  “Seeing Joe with Heather and Angel really bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asked, deciding to focus on someone else’s problems. It helped drown out that voice in his head.

  “I hardly know the man,” she said, denying the truth that was plain on her face. “We’ve never even been on a real date.”

  As denials went, it wasn’t very effective, not with the way her gaze repeatedly strayed back to Joe’s reflection in the mirror.

  Todd recalled the way he’d fallen for Heather in less than a heartbeat when they’d met. “Time’s not always a factor where the heart’s concerned.”

  She turned her attention back to him. “Hey, you’re looking at the queen of love-at-first-sight,” she said wryly. “But I’m here to tell you that that kind of romance burns itself out just as fast. You want something lasting, you’ve got to give it time and you’ve got to work at it.” She gave a little self-deprecating laugh. “Not that I’ve personally tried that part yet, you understand.”

  Todd glanced at the rancher in the mirror. He was slouched down in the booth giving Heather a lazy once-over, accompanied by a crooked grin. Obviously some women found that sort of thing sexy. Heather certainly looked as if she was lapping up the attention and Flo looked envious enough to shoot daggers into the competition.

  “What is it about the guy?” he muttered. “I don’t get it.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Flo said. “It’s the way he looks at you, the way he listens as if every word you say is important. It doesn’t hurt that he’s got a butt just made for a pair of tight jeans, either.”

  Todd rolled his eyes. It was the damned western mystique, he supposed. Some women were apparently suckers for it. He just hadn’t figured Miss Broadway herself would be one of them. She’d always professed to like the sophisticated, smooth, yuppie type. Hell, she’d fallen in love with him, hadn’t she? And he and Joe Stevens couldn’t be more unalike if they’d come from two different universes.

  He cast another disgruntled look at Stevens, then decided it was way past time to call it a night. If Heather didn’t have sense enough to know when to take Angel home, he’d explain it to her. Excusing himself to Flo, he crossed the room in three long strides, then had to wait to catch her attention, since she was so busy hanging on to Joe’s every word.

  “Don’t you think it’s time Angel went to bed?” he asked when finally he had her attention. He nodded toward the child who was curled up in the corner of the booth, her eyelids at half-mast. Before Heather could respond, he reached across her and gathered Angel up. He considered it a preemptive strike, since Joe looked as if he might be about to volunteer for the task.

  With a nod in the cowboy’s direction, he headed out the door, figuring Heather would follow, if only to lecture him on his rude behavior. Sure enough, the tinkling sound of her bracelets trailed him up the outside staircase. When they had both reached the landing, there was no mistaking the fact that she was ticked off at him.

  He waited while she turned her key in the lock and pushed the door open, then he brushed past her to deposit Angel in her room. For the next few minutes, Heather’s attention was focused on getting Angel into bed. Todd couldn’t get out of that room with its mounds of stuffed animals fast enough. It reminded him all too vividly of another nursery that had been decorated in a Peter Rabbit theme and crowded with bright toys and a plush menagerie by indulgent parents thrilled to have a second baby after so many years.

  While Heather was occupied with Angel, he walked back into the living room, then glanced around at the touches that were purely Heather—the colorful scarf draped over a lamp to create a soft glow, the scented candles, the glass with a bouquet of wildflowers. She had turned the small apartment into more of a home in a few weeks than he had managed with his in months. She had a gift for making a place her own, usually through imaginative and inexpensive decorating such as this. It was a knack that might translate well into a television show, he thought, then dismissed the idea. The last thing he needed was to make a suggestion like that to Heather or Megan. He wanted her gone, not even more deeply entrenched in his life.

  He moved to the window and stood staring out at the deserted street below, remembering with a shudder just how dangerous it could turn in the blink of an eye. He was still lost in that awful moment when Heather joined him.

  “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?” Heather asked, her tone more curious than angry.

  Todd didn’t waste time trying to pretend he didn’t know exactly what she was asking. Even an idiot would have seen his behavior for the actions of a man driven by jealousy, not concern for his daughter. He turned slowly, prepared to offer some sort of honest response, even prepared to admit that he’d been ridiculously and inexplicably bent out of shape by the attention Joe Stevens had been showering on Heather and Angel.

  Instead, his gaze locked on Heather’s, his pulse slammed into overdrive, and all he could think about was kissing that sassy, knowing expression off her face.

  Hours of stress and adrenaline kicked in as he reached for her and dragged her to him. His mouth claimed hers with deep, dark, drugging kisses that blocked out weeks of sound reason and noble intentions. Her fingers tunneled through his hair and her body molded itself to his.

  He didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask by so much as a glance. He just took what he needed—the heat, the closeness, the passion that he’d been missing for four long years.

  They tumbled onto the sofa in a tangle of arms and legs and desperate need, stripping away clothes when they got in the way of the desire to touch bare skin. It was just the way Todd remembered, every uninhibited, urgent caress, every slick inch of her satiny skin.

  She was writhing beneath him when he finally paused to draw breath, when he finally stopped to consider her pleasure along with his own. But Heather was impatient, her needs linked to his own, apparently, because she drew him inside her with the same urgency that was rocketing through him.

  “Now,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop. Don’t think.” She smoothed his forehead as if to coax away the sensible thoughts she knew were suddenly crowding in. “Love me.”

  Todd couldn’t have resisted if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. Her pleas were all he needed to run his hands over sensitive flesh, to pound away inside her until muscles tightened around him and shudders washed over her and then, in a swirl of dark, delicious urgency, claimed him as well.

  How had he ever forgotten that it could be like this? How had he blocked it from his mind?

  And now that he remembered, how could he ever let her go again?

  Heather came back to earth slowly, resisting the fall, wanting to savor every incredible second. When she finally dared a glance into Todd’s eyes, she expected to find them filled with regrets, expected the apologies to start tripping off his tongue in a tumble of words like “sorry” and “mistake” and “never again.” She was prepared for that. She wasn’t prepared for the utterly lost, utterly hopeless expression she found, instead.

  “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” she told him, trying to gauge his mood.

  “I’m not sorry.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s not going to happen again.”

  He sighed heavily at that. “It probably will.”

  There was no mistaking the regret in his voice. She frowned. “You don’t have to sound so blasted depressed about it. It’s not very flattering.”

  “Nothing good can come of this, Heather.”

  She refused to be daunted. “I’d say something already has,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  “If you’re talking about Ang
el…”

  “I’m not. I’m not looking back or ahead. I’m talking about right now, this second. I am where I want to be, in your arms. I’d forgotten how safe and secure I feel when I’m here. I’d forgotten what it’s like to climb clear up to the stars with a man who really cares about me.”

  “I don’t…” he said, then, “Okay, I do care, just not the way you mean, not the way you ought to have a man care about you.”

  “Todd, if you cared any more, I wouldn’t be able to move for a month.”

  The frown was back, deeper this time. “I’m not talking about sex.”

  She touched a finger to his lips. “Just this once, just for tonight, could we not complicate this? Could we not analyze it or talk it to death?”

  “But—”

  “Just for tonight,” she repeated.

  “I don’t see how—”

  “Todd.”

  A smile crept across his face. “Okay, okay. Just for tonight.”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  “I don’t think I have any choice, do I? You’ve got me trapped under you.”

  He didn’t sound nearly as distressed about that as he might have. “You complaining?”

  Their gazes locked.

  “No way,” he murmured, shifting to make the most of the contact. “I know when to give in gracefully.”

  “Good instincts,” she praised, for once without the edge in her voice that had to do with his wasted abilities as an actor. His fingers slid inside her, tormenting her until her breath caught in her throat and her pulse was ricocheting crazily. “Very…good…instincts.”

  “Only with you,” he murmured as he eased her onto her back and plunged deep inside her again.

  Once more the twist of tension, the swirl of heat tugged her into a rising wave of sensual delight, captured her, lifted her, then dragged her under until she was gasping for breath and crying out with the sheer wonder of it.

  Morning would be time enough for rational thoughts and regrets, she thought as she snuggled closer to the man whose most innocent caress could bring her ecstasy.

  “Umm, Heather?”

  “Yes?” she murmured sleepily.

  “We aren’t really going to try sleeping on the sofa, are we?”

  She didn’t see why not. Cuddling was a guarantee in such limited space. One look at Todd’s awkward position, however, convinced her it wouldn’t seem half so romantic by morning when aches and pains had settled in.

  “There is a perfectly good bed not far from here,” she conceded.

  “Thank God.”

  He started to get up, but she held him in place. “Just one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll stay close to me. You won’t wander over to the far edge of the bed and drag all the covers with you.”

  “Are you more worried about getting lonely or cold?” he inquired with obvious amusement.

  “If I’m not lonely, I can almost guarantee there’s no way I’ll get cold,” she told him.

  He gazed into her eyes. “Deal,” he said solemnly, holding out his hand.

  “A handshake is good,” she agreed, placing her hand in his. “But a kiss is better.”

  “A kiss could seriously delay us getting off this sofa,” he warned.

  She grinned. “Not a problem.”

  His mouth dutifully slanted over hers.

  He was right, she concluded somewhat later. A kiss could be the start of an incredibly worthwhile delay. In fact, if she used the tactic inventively, maybe she could postpone his running out on her and Angel for a long time to come.

  15

  Exhausted, his emotions in more turmoil than ever, Todd slipped out of Heather’s bed in the morning, planning to sneak out of the apartment without waking her or Angel. He wasn’t sure he wanted to rehash last night’s events quite so soon, and Heather was very big on talking. She was also big on cuddling in the morning and had always been able to fog his brain and lead him astray.

  He actually made it out of Heather’s room without her stirring, but when he peeked in Angel’s room, he found her wide-awake and playing some kind of game with the dolls crowded around her. Her expression brightened when she spotted him.

  “Hiya, Todd,” she said with delight, reaching for him.

  He instinctively picked her up, amazed by the feelings that stole through him as she snuggled close. Instead of the terror he’d anticipated, he felt…almost paternal. A little awed. He realized that the sensation was becoming commonplace, that he was beginning to expect—and accept—it.

  “What are you doing awake at this hour, cupcake? It’s early.”

  “I not sleepy,” she informed him. “I hungry.”

  Uh-oh, he thought. What was she supposed to have for breakfast? He could manage toast, he supposed. Or maybe cereal. Maybe some juice.

  “Let’s see what the options are,” he said, carrying her into the kitchen. He set her on her feet and began poking into cupboards, most of which were bare, a testament to the intended temporary nature of their stay in Whispering Wind. Once again, awareness of that depressed him more than it relieved him. He simply had to get a grip, he told himself sharply. His control was slipping. He did not want the two of them staying. He did not.

  Impatient and knowing the layout better than he did, Angel scooted past him and tugged open a lower cabinet door near the refrigerator. She poked her head inside and emerged happily holding a box of cereal.

  “’O’s,” she announced.

  “Ah,” Todd said. “Nothing better than Cheerios.”

  Angel seemed impressed by his enthusiasm. “You like ’em, too?”

  “I love them,” he assured her, grabbing two bowls, a couple of spoons and retrieving the milk from the refrigerator.

  He dumped the cereal into the bowls and was about to douse it with milk when Heather wandered in and regarded the scene sleepily. His hand froze in midair at the sight of her in a T-shirt that barely came to midthigh and left very little to the imagination thanks to the soft, clinging fabric. His pulse, which should have been resting comfortably after the night they’d shared, kicked into warp speed again.

  “Pour that milk at your own risk,” Heather said mildly, clearly oblivious to the fact that he’d all but forgotten he was even holding the carton.

  “Huh?”

  “The milk,” she repeated pointedly. “Not on Angel’s cereal, unless you want to give her a bath to get the soggy Cheerios out of her hair.”

  The prospect snapped him back to the moment. He shoved the bowl of dry cereal in Angel’s direction. She promptly grabbed a fistful. Apparently table manners weren’t yet a part of her repertoire.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you,” he told Heather, his gaze unabashedly surveying her now that he’d averted the soggy-cereal catastrophe. This was bad, he told himself as he sank onto a chair. Really bad. No one understood the pull of great sex better than he did. Wasn’t that at least a part of what had kept them together the first time for as long as it had?

  As uninhibited as ever, Heather clearly didn’t share his reservations. She moved easily straight into his lap and looped an arm around his neck. Her kiss on his cheek was innocent enough, but his response to it was anything but. From the gleam in her eyes, it was evident that she was fully aware of the effect she was having. In fact, she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it!

  Eventually, though, her expression sobered. “We might have just the teensiest problem,” she told him.

  Knowing Heather, Todd suspected this was a massive understatement. “What?” he asked.

  She nodded toward Angel, then leaned down to whisper, “Not the most discreet kid on the block.”

  Understanding dawned immediately. “You mean she’s going to blab it all over that I was here all night?” he asked in a horrified whisper.

  “It’s not a sure bet, but there’s no way to stop her. She does like to chat with ’Retta.”

  “Oh, boy,” Todd muttered. Not that Henrietta would be a
ll that shocked. It was apparent she already believed that there was more going on between him and Heather than he’d admitted to. She seemed more distressed by his denials than she was likely to be by the proof that she’d been right all along. No, it wasn’t Henrietta who would be a problem.

  “Just keep her away from Megan,” he pleaded.

  “Don’t want the boss knowing what you’ve been up to?” Heather inquired tartly. “Is there some sort of morality clause in your contract with her?”

  He frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Todd tried to decide how best to phrase it. “When Megan was being chased by Jake, I more or less encouraged him. She just might get it into her head that turnabout is fair play. Trust me when I tell you that I—we—don’t need the pressure.”

  Rather than being subdued by the warning, Heather looked fascinated. “Pressure, huh? As in meddling?”

  “As in making my life a living hell,” he said, then regarded her darkly. “Yours, too, for that matter.”

  “Not necessarily,” she said thoughtfully. “For once, your boss and I just might share common goals.”

  “Such as?” The last he’d heard, Heather’s only goal was to involve him in Angel’s life, then head east. Had last night changed that? If so, it might turn out that last night was the costliest mistake of his life.

  “That’s still evolving,” she informed him with one of those sassy grins that scared him senseless. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  Todd groaned. He was doomed. No doubt about it, he was totally and positively doomed.

  In the end it took precisely two hours for Angel to announce to anyone listening that “Todd slept with my mommy.” It took another fifteen minutes for that news to reach Megan. He knew it from her expression when she strolled into his office.

  “My, my, my,” she murmured gleefully. “Isn’t this a fascinating turn of events.”

 

‹ Prev