Angel Gone Bad

by Sabine Starr

  “Ghosts?” Rune asked, masking his excitement. If he wasn’t mistaken, Tate or some other lawman was alive behind that door.

  “Move it!”

  Rune picked up his pace, mapping the underground in his mind so he could find his way back later. He passed several more closed doors.

  “Turn here.”

  He followed the instructions, hoping he didn’t have to go much farther away from the lawman.

  “Stop.”

  Rune halted outside a door that looked like any other.

  The outlaw pulled a set of keys off his belt, selected one, and unlocked the door. “After dark, somebody will come get you.”

  “Hope we’ll get supper.”

  “Most like you’ll get nasty French cousin stuff.”

  “Cuisine?”

  “Like I said. When I’m chowing down on a big steak, so rare it oozes red, I’ll laugh about you eatin’ surprise meat in slimy gravy.”

  “Save me a bite?”

  “Not hardly.” The outlaw jerked open the door. “Get in there.”

  Rune stepped into the room, and the door was slammed and locked behind him. Safe, for the moment.

  “Rune?” Angel called, sitting up in a rumpled bed, sorrel hair wild around her face, wearing something that was like wearing nothing at all, and holding a derringer pointed at his chest.

  “Yep.” He smiled, couldn’t help it. She was always ready to take on all comers no matter her situation.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” He walked over to her. “Good news. I think I’ve found your man.”

  “Is Tate okay? How does he look?” She tucked her derringer back under a pillow.

  “I didn’t see him. I can’t swear it’s him, but I think so. And he knows somebody is here to help him.”

  “That’s wonderful. I want to rush out and rescue him.”

  “So do I. But we’re prisoners, too. We’ve got to be patient.”

  “I know.”

  “While we wait to get out of here, I want to get cleaned up. I smell like horse.”

  “You can remedy that in our big bathtub.”

  “Is that thing for real?” He quickly covered the distance to get a closer look. “Somebody sure has time for long baths.”

  Angel got out of bed and padded on bare feet over to him.

  One glance and he forgot everything except her. “Don’t get out of bed on my account. That’s the best place for you looking like that.”

  She pulled the wrap more closely about her body, but it only served to emphasize the rosy tips of her breasts and the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs. She reached out a hand to him.

  “Don’t touch me or you’ll get dirty. I’m sweaty, nasty, and reek to high heaven.”

  She licked her lips. “And that’s supposed to discourage me?”

  He chuckled. “I’m getting a bath in that all mighty big tub, then you can have your way with me.” He glanced at the light coming in through the narrow window. “We’ve got till dark. Ought to be about long enough.”

  She clasped his hand and squeezed. “I’m so glad you found Tate. I’m so glad to see you. I didn’t know if I ever would again.”

  “I’m harder to get rid of than that.”

  “If anybody ought to know, it’s me.”

  He nodded in agreement, squeezing her hand. He didn’t say the words, but he thought how good it was to see her and know she was okay, too. Bone deep, that feeling ran. It was starting to look like she was never getting rid of him. He just needed to find a way to make it look like it was her idea.

  “Come on. Show me how to use this contraption of a tub.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  “Don’t you want to take a nap? We need our wits about us tonight.” Angel watched Rune from the bed. “And what are you doing refilling the tub?”

  Rune rubbed his clean-shaven face, and then ran a hand across his damp, tousled hair. “Think I’m going to pass up a chance to make total use of this Viking longboat? Doubt I’ll ever get another chance like this in my lifetime.”

  “You already had a bath.”

  He grinned, raising his eyebrows. “Come here.”

  “Rune, you’re being silly.”

  “After everything we’ve been through, why not?” He stepped into the tub, giving her a tantalizing view of his tight ass, and sat down. “Pour in some more of those rose-scented bath salts, will you? I’m starting to like the smell, particularly pleasant after eau de equine.”

  She couldn’t keep from chuckling as she put on her wrapper, for all the good it did, and walked over. She picked up the jar and poured about a cup over his toes. “How’s that?”

  “Might as well empty it.”

  “How can you be so frivolous? We’re in a serious situation.” She dumped the rest of the fragrant salts into the quickly rising water.

  “All the more reason to make hay while the sun shines.” He patted the top of the tub. “Now, wench, get in here.”

  “Wench?”

  “You look like one, or maybe that’s wishful thinking.”

  “Don’t you believe I deserve a little more respect than that?”

  “Get in the tub and I’ll show you plenty of respect.”

  “Oh, that kind of respect.” She let her wrapper slide down her arms to the floor, kicked it aside, stepped up on the marble dais, and cocked a hip. “Is this the wench you had in mind?”

  “None other.” He looked her up and down. “You sure know how to bring a guy to attention.”

  She glanced down the length of him. “Looks like you’re ready to fly the flag.”

  “Let’s make it a Viking one.”

  She stepped up, over, and stood between his legs. She had a fine view of the merchandise, and she was definitely buying.

  “You going to stand there all day, or are you waiting for me to turn berserker?”

  “What is a berserker?”

  He put his Thor’s Hammer in his mouth and gnawed on it while lasciviously eyeing her breasts.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’re driving me into a frenzy.”

  She laughed, knelt between his knees, and pulled the Hammer out of his mouth. “I’ve got something better for you to nibble on.”

  “You sure do.”

  He pulled her close, stroked each taut nipple with his tongue, and then kissed her lips, biting, nibbling, and licking from one corner of her mouth to the other. When she moaned deep in her throat, he thrust inside while massaging her butt with both hands, strong fingers circling ever closer to the heart of her while he pumped up between her legs with his rigid prick.

  Angel writhed against his hot, hard body, feeling the water imprison them in a soft, scented cocoon as she struggled toward that perfect place of completion. She shivered, caught between fire and ice, truth and lies, past and future. She grasped the present when his fingers slipped into her hot, wet cleft, thumbed her bud, and sent her spiraling into ecstasy.

  She groaned, feeling so shattered by his touch that she grasped his shoulders tightly as she flew away into a million pieces.

  “You ready to be ravaged?” he asked, voice low, taut, rough.

  “I thought I had been.”

  “That was the first course.” He turned off the taps.

  He lifted her out of the water, set her gently back with her head resting against the tub, and knelt between her legs.

  She stroked his smooth cheek, gazed into his sky blue eyes, and felt love fill her heart. He’d brought her so far. He’d taught her so much. He’d protected her so completely. He was the love of her life.

  If he abandoned her again, her heart would collapse. But she’d learned how to be strong enough to survive a broken heart. If he had to leave her, she wouldn’t cling, she wouldn’t strike out, she wouldn’t crumble. She would count her blessings for the time she’d had with him, and wish him well.

  She felt tears well up in her eyes and spill over her lower lids.

  “Yo
u don’t want to be ravished?” He reached up and gently brushed her tears away.

  “Oh, yes, please ravish me.” She pulled his head down and placed a tender kiss against his warm lips.

  “I want to take a chance.” His hands delved under the water and parted her legs. “Not a chance. I intend . . . I want to make a baby with you.”

  She gasped in surprise.

  “I don’t want to ever let you go. I was a fool before. I want us to be a family. Create a family.”

  “Are you saying that you love me?” She could hardly believe her ears.

  “Yes. Forever.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  Reality crashed down on her, ruining all her hopes and dreams. “But you’re an outlaw wanted by the law!”

  He sat back on his heels. “There’s a lot I’ve wanted to tell you. I hope you’ll believe me now.”

  “Is it bad?” She reached out and stroked his face. “I hope it’s not. I don’t think I could bear it.”

  “When you first met me, I was working undercover as a detective for the Anti–Horse Thief Association.”

  She stared at him in shock, thrilled that he was a lawman, not an outlaw. Now she understood why he knew the AHTA secret hand sign and so much else.

  “I was after the Badger Gang. I bought those horses with you to gain entry into the outlaw world.”

  “Oh, no.” She covered her mouth with her fingers in horror.

  “Right. You ruined my plans, no matter your intent.”

  “I’m so sorry, really sorry.”

  “I know that now.”

  “But why did you escape with the V Gang?”

  “I figured it was my best chance to catch the Badger leader, complete my job for the AHTA, and clear my name.”

  “And now?”

  “I was right. We’re about to meet Crawdaddy.” He brushed her lower lip, crimson and swollen from his kisses, with his thumb. “And you helped me get this far.”

  “I’ll help you to the end.”

  He stroked down her face and tilted up her chin. “We’re within hours of reaching our goals.” He kissed her, softly and sweetly. “I need you.”

  “I love you. I believe in you. We’ll win.” She grasped his shoulders and pulled him close. “Give me a baby.”

  She felt him raise her hips, thrust into her, and pump until she screamed his name, feeling all the shattered pieces come together as she was made whole by lust, by love, by life.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Not long after dark, Hammer escorted Angel and Rune down several twists and turns into a sitting room. Soft light from a crystal chandelier illuminated an elegant gold silk sofa and matching chairs positioned on red-and-gold carpet. The room was empty, but voices could be heard nearby. Hammer gestured for them to precede him through an arched entry into the next room.

  Angel saw prestige and wealth, no matter that it was under a waterfront warehouse. She stepped into a game room paneled in rich oak. A large billiard table with a green felt surface crouched under a four-globe hanging lamp. A table crowned by a black-and-white chess set stood ready for use. Two poker tables with five chairs each were positioned in front of a massive bookcase.

  A sideboard groaned under the weight of sliced meats, cheeses, crackers, fruit, liquor bottles, china dishes, crystal glasses, and linen napkins.

  At the sight of such delicious food, Angel felt her stomach rumble despite being pinched by her tight corset. She was ravenous. This was the first sight of food she’d had since arriving in Crawdaddy’s lair. Unfortunately, good manners dictated that a lady eat very little.

  Several men stood with their backs to the entry, smoking and talking in low voices.

  Hammer cleared his throat. “General Crawdaddy, your guests have arrived.”

  Power in the form of a man slowly turned and looked at Angel. She felt her heart beat fast. He was slightly taller than her five-six, but he was twice as broad, with solid muscle packed into a charcoal gray suit. He had at least ten years on her twenty-seven. His pale head was bald as a billiard ball and he had no facial hair either. He appeared stark, austere, and ruthless.

  Crawdaddy took a puff on a meerschaum pipe as he looked her up and down, making no attempt to conceal his blatant assessment or admiration.

  “Mademoiselle, you are, indeed, welcome,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, as if it had been ill-used.

  “Thank you for your hospitality.” She could only wonder at his use of French. Was it an affectation or indicative of his background?

  “Poor, at best, but I trust adequate.” He glanced at Rune. “Your friend has proven he has a way with horses. An important skill in our line of business.”

  “Fine stable of horses.” Rune’s voice was taut with suppressed emotion.

  “Thank you. Again, they are adequate for my needs.” Crawdaddy gestured with his pipe. “I believe you have met a few of our poker players. Baines. And Lucien.”

  Angel was unhappy to see Baines, but shocked when another man stepped forward. Lucky. Somehow, he’d transformed himself from outlaw in six-gun and Levi’s to dapper gentleman in an expensive suit. And he’d acquired a fancy name.

  “Mam’selle.” Lucky nodded, touching the silver chain on his wrist. “A pleasure to see you again.”

  She felt as if she had stepped into another world, one where she didn’t know the rules or the players. Yet the familiar weight of the derringer and the Spider Grandmother deck in the reticule dangling from her wrist was a comfort.

  “Please, partake of this slight repast I ordered for my guests.” Crawdaddy nodded toward the sideboard. “I fear I have been remiss in providing adequately for you.”

  “Not at all.” Angel glanced down at her expensive gown. “This is lovely.”

  “Only perfection for the Black Widow.”

  “Thank you.”

  “A woman like you deserves the very best.”

  She smiled, hoping to appear pleasant, not sick. “I’m sure a man like you appreciates the best.”

  “True. More important, I can afford it.”

  “You do have a lovely, uh, home.”

  “Thank you.” He gestured toward the sideboard. “Please try some of the food. I will pour you a glass of champagne.”

  Angel nodded, attempting to smile again. The last thing she needed on an empty stomach was liquor, especially before a poker game.

  “I sure want to try some of this food.” Rune said in a hearty voice as he wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her away from Crawdaddy to the sideboard.

  She stood still, staring at the selection. She felt like a mouse in the paws of a cat. Fear clawed up her throat into the back of her mouth.

  “Eat something. Anything,” Rune hissed under his breath.

  Picking up a strawberry, she felt her stomach churn.

  Rune started loading up a plate, making a big display out of his motions. “We’re in trouble,” he whispered. “I’m first on his kill list. He wants you. He’ll be only too happy to console you after my untimely death.”

  “What!” She looked at Rune in horror.

  “If you don’t want the beef, try something else,” he said in a jovial voice, popping a big piece in his mouth and chewing noisily. “Good stuff.”

  She bit into the strawberry. “Delicious.”

  “We’ve got to make our move tonight.”

  “How?”

  “Try this, ma chérie.” Crawdaddy held out a crystal flute with bubbling liquid.

  Angel took the glass. When he clasped her elbow with strong fingers, she trembled even as she cast a smile at him. This close, she saw a rose-tinted scar around his neck, a burn or abrasion. Maybe the injury had affected his voice.

  “Come. Let us play poker.”

  She heard a loud crash and whirled around, dislodging Crawdaddy’s hand.

  “Sorry.” Rune looked sheepish even as he clumsily kicked shards of broken glass and strawberries across the floor.

  “What a mess,” Lucky said. “
Let me escort mam’selle to the sitting room while this is cleaned up.” He gave Rune an aggrieved look, and then held out his elbow to Angel.

  She clasped his arm and allowed him to lead her through the arch to the gold sofa. She sat down, feeling surprised when he sat close to her.

  “Trouble?” he whispered, nodding back toward the game room.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Quick. Rune gave us time, but we don’t have long.”

  “Are you Crawdaddy’s friend?” She needed to trust Lucky, but he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t allied in some way to the Badger leader.

  “I’m your friend. There’s no time to explain more.”

  She looked deep into his dark caramel eyes and felt that instinctive connection to him again.

  “Trust me.”

  Everything was on the line. Trust or not? All her instincts screamed for her to trust this man, but her mind made her cautious.

  Lucky jingled the chain on his wrist.

  She understood his reminder. He’d pledged his support to her on their first meeting when he’d had nothing to gain and plenty to lose. Trust won out. She took a deep, steadying breath. “Rune is an undercover detective for the AHTA. He’s here to get the Badger leader arrested and his outlaws put behind bars. We’re also here to rescue a Deputy U.S. Marshal held hostage.”

  “One lone AHTA man, even with your help, can’t do it. Better get out now.”

  “How? Guards are everywhere. We’re basically prisoners.”

  “Crawdaddy is . . . you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You can leave, can’t you? If you go to the Riverside Hotel down the road and ask for Deputy U.S. Marshal Rafe Morgan, he’ll put together a team and arrest these outlaws.”

  “If I did find him, why would he believe me?”

  “Rafe is my brother. Tell him Crystabelle is handling cards again and needs his help. He’ll come. Plus, tell him about the situation. He’ll never have a better opportunity to arrest these two gangs and rescue a deputy.”

  “Ah, family. I could probably get you safely out of here. Alone. Would you come with me?”