Touched by an Angel (Angel Paws Rescue Book 2)

by Mimi Milan

She smiled.

  Always a gentleman.

  “I’m sure everything will go like clockwork.”

  “Okay,” he consented. “Is the light still on?”

  It was a strange question. “Uh, yeah. Why? Does that bother you?”

  He reached past her, his hand feeling for the lamp on the nightstand, her body gradually pressing closer to his. He found the switch and snapped it off.

  “No, I just want you to see me the way I see you.”

  He pulled her close, his lips seeking hers as their bodies melded together.

  Chapter Eight

  Rhett woke to pleasant thoughts of silky hair, soft skin, and soreness in all the right places. He smiled as he reminisced about the previous night. Everything had been perfect. She was perfect. If steamy nights like the one they had shared he previous evening were going to be part of their arrangement, then he might never let her go.

  What would she think of that? Would it scare her off? Maybe not since she had been the one to make the first move. Then again, perhaps it was purely physical. From their brief discussion afterwards, it had been a while since either of them had been with anyone else. Suddenly stuck with him in a strange house – she could have just been looking for some comfort. Maybe she was just feeling lonely, and it was only wishful thinking that something more would result from their arrangement.

  There was only one way to find out.

  He debated on waking her and decided to go for it anyway. He was going to have to tell his parents about his marriage sooner or later – especially with Caitlin asleep on the living room couch. He needed to talk to them about her reckless behavior before she did something she regretted forever. He could bring Luciana with him and get it all over in one shot.

  He reached out. “Lucy?”

  His hand touched air and then fell onto the empty bed.

  Where had she gone? Surely he hadn’t scared her off already. He pulled back the covers, prepared to search her out in case there were any misunderstandings to smooth over.

  “Buenas.”

  Rhett stilled, almost letting out a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice. He smiled.

  “Buenas? I don’t know what that means,” he admitted.

  “It’s a shortened way of saying ‘good afternoon.’”

  “Afternoon?”

  She chuckled at his surprise. “Yes. It’s just now the noon hour.”

  “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever slept that late before.”

  She laughed again and it made him relax even more. “Well, it’s kind of understandable. I mean, we had a big day yesterday. We were drinking and dancing and… Well, you know everything.”

  He nodded. Now was the time to broach the subject.

  “Yes… everything.” He cleared his throat, preparing to address their evening together. “Speaking of which—”

  “I already know.” She sat down beside him on the bed and placed something on his lap. He reached out and felt the contours of a wooden tray, not really wanting to ask what it was she thought she already knew. His hands moved to the plate in the center of the tray.

  “Is that a sandwich?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m a Latina. We tend to apologize with food.”

  “What do you have to apologize for?”

  “For last night. I know what happened was wrong.”

  A sinking feeling anchored in the pit of his stomach. He tried taking a bite of the sandwich, hoping it would relieve the sensation. He swallowed and then spoke. “You don’t need to apologize for that.”

  “Yes, I do.” She reached out and took hold of his hand, giving it what she must have believed to be a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know what came over me last night. I want to blame the day’s events or your cologne … anything other than myself. But the truth is it was all me. I know I took advantage of you, and I’m extremely sorry.”

  Heat crept up his neck and to his cheeks. Did she really believe she had taken advantage of him?

  “Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m just as much to blame. Maybe even more.” His head dipped with embarrassment. Eager to be doing anything other than have this conversation, he picked up the sandwich again. “You might have made the first move, but I was definitely responsible for all the rest. Know what I mean?”

  Her words were laced with mirth. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Still, it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t planted the idea first. But I can say this much… I promise to never do it again.”

  That sinking feeling that had taken root earlier returned with a vengeance. The food in his stomach turned to molten lead. He coughed, clearing his throat. “Wow. Was it that bad?”

  “No! That’s not it at all,” she hurriedly said. “I just want to assure you that… How can I say it?” She hesitated as if uncertain. “I understand the contract I signed. I know our arrangement… and I know my place.”

  Was that all they had – some binding arrangement on a flimsy piece of paper? He schooled his features, hoping they didn’t betray what he was really thinking.

  “Well, I thank you for the food.” He lifted the tray, holding it away from him so she could take it. “I guess I should get going and have a chat with my younger sister.”

  “Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you – she’s already gone.”

  Rhett stilled. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  Luciana took the tray from him. “I had to pass the living room on my way to the kitchen. I thought I’d have a peek, but there was no one there. That’s when I heard an engine turn over, went to look out the window, and there she was – driving away like she had someplace important to be.”

  “You’re sure it was her?”

  “Just how many girls do you have leaving your place every day?”

  The question sounded tinged with jealousy, but he knew it had to be his imagination. She had just made it perfectly clear where the two of them stood. No point thinking about that anyway. He had to figure out what to do about his sister.

  “Okay. I’m sure you’re right and it was her. Thing is, we’ve got a problem if she was in the driver’s seat. I’d bet you a wet dog on a rainy day she was leaving that fast because she swiped the keys from my brother, because he’s the only one my parents trust with a vehicle. Only one way to find out, though.”

  Judging from where her voice had carried, he stood and walked a wide circle around Luciana.

  “How do you do that?”

  He stopped and turned in her direction. “You mean, how do I know where to walk and turn my head when I address you? Stuff like that?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

  He leaned in and gave her what he hoped look like an award-winning smile. “I listen.”

  A sharp inhale indicated her surprise. “What do you listen to?”

  “Everything.” His voice grew soft. “I listen to when you speak and even the way you do it, how your breath captures the words before they leave your lips, and all the silences between them.”

  To an untrained ear, silence had settled between them. But even now he could hear her breathy response – wordless yet heavy at the same time. Had his response moved her? Did her heart race the same as his? A quiet hunger within made him want to search out the answer with the same desperate caresses they had shared just a few hours earlier. In that moment he determined that this was not the end. He would do whatever it took to win her over...

  After he dealt with the rest of his family.

  He cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I better check in on Clark.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll… um… be in the kitchen cleaning up.”

  He nodded and then carefully made his way down the hall, his thoughts divided between the woman he didn’t want to leave and the sister he had to help save from her own undoing.

  His words had nearly taken her breath away.

  Slowly heading back to the kitchen, Luciana played the moment in her mind again.

  How your breath captures the words
before they leave your lips…

  “Dios mio,” she mumbled. How in the name of los santos was she supposed to remain indifferent when the man was practically reciting poetry? It was bad enough that she had to apologize for the night before. With the way his tender arms had held her close, his quiet requests, and gentle exploration… No man had ever treated her with such care.

  And now to think she had made that stupid promise to not pursue him anymore!

  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat – the same one she had fought while telling him “it” would never happen again. She was almost thankful he couldn’t see the tears she had to brush back during that moment. It had been incredibly difficult to reject him – and not only because of the physical attraction she felt for him. While their evening had been incredible, it was actually all the little things that made her feel like she would swoon. She set the tray on the table and began mentally listing all the things she liked about him.

  Aside from the small spat he had with his brother, he was always soft spoken and respectful – especially towards her. His artwork proved he was amazingly talented. His ability to navigate his surroundings demonstrated how intelligent he was. The fact that he would agree to marry her so she could stay in the country proved he was exceptionally trusting too. And then there was one of the most important facts of all.

  He didn’t drink.

  Well, not much anyway. That was the other thing she had learned about him on their wedding night. While the majority of her family was throwing back beers, he had limited himself to only two modest glasses of champagne. Each of those had occurred during toasts, too. The first was arranged by her Uncle Tito; the second a surprise thanks to her borracho of a cousin, Manny. His sloppy Spanglish had reminded her of her father (as well as most of the men she had dated). Rhett, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. In fact, the only bad thing she could think of was the fact that he didn’t like the food she made.

  She looked down at the tray and the half eaten sandwich and frowned. This was no ordinary sandwich. This was a Chimichurri! The meat had been grilled to perfection, the cabbage finely shredded, and the salsa golf was homemade. What was wrong with that boy, taking two bites out of a heavenly creation and then handing it back to her? The only thing that was a little off about the sandwich was that she had to use plain white bread. That wasn’t her fault, though. Had she anticipated making the meal, she would have made a special trip to the store for some pan de agua first.

  “Oh, well. I guess I’ll just wrap it up.” She searched the kitchen for some aluminum foil. She had just located it in the cabinet above the stove when she heard him behind her.

  “Luciana?”

  She spun around to find that in the short time she had been ruminating over food and forlorn love, he had dressed into jeans and a button up flannel with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. She glanced down to his tan, steel toed boots.

  “You look like you’re getting ready to work on a construction site.”

  He half grinned. “Eh, something close to that. I need to swing by my folks and there’s always the possibility that my father will be out in the back, working on some project or another. Figured it was best to go prepared – just in case.”

  Luciana nodded and then remembered he couldn’t see her response. She quickly spoke up. “That sounds like a good idea. Remember what I told you about my father? You know, about how he started drinking?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Well, sometimes I wish someone would’ve intervened. I think things could have been a lot different for him – for all of us really – if someone had. So if there’s something we can do for your sister, then I’m in.”

  “Thank you, Lucy. I appreciate that a lot. Actually, I was hoping you would come with us.”

  “Of course. I’d do anything for you,” she said.

  The look on his face mirrored the emotions she felt.

  What exactly would “anything” entail?

  Chapter Nine

  If they were going to rip the band aid off, then it was best to do it all at once.

  Luciana followed closely beside Rhett as they walked up the front steps of his parents’ home. When they reached the landing, she gently pulled back on his arm.

  “Maybe it would be best if I stayed out here.”

  A smile crept across his face. “Abandoning me already?”

  The question jolted her. “What? No! Never.”

  “Never?”

  He was grinning, but there was something challenging in the tone of his voice. It sent a delicious shiver down her spine. “You know what I mean. I’m here for you if you need me.”

  He looked pensive. After a moment, he finally nodded. “Okay. You wait here while Clark and I go inside. I’ll leave the door open, though. That way you can come in if you change your mind.”

  “I don’t know if I can just walk into a stranger’s home.”

  “It’s not a stranger’s home,” he said resolutely. “It’s my childhood home and you are my wife.”

  The way he stressed the word ‘wife’ set an unfamiliar yearning deep within her. The word held such possessiveness that she could almost believe they meant something more than a simple legality. Wouldn’t that have been nice?

  She cleared her throat. “Thank you, but I think I’ll wait out here all the same. I wouldn’t want to give your parents more than they can handle all at once.”

  “Okay. Come on in if you change your mind, though.”

  She watched as the two brothers made their way into the house, the front door conveniently left open as a reminder of Rhett’s offer. Tempted, she stood close to the door but didn’t enter. Still, it was enough to clearly hear Clark call out for their parents.

  “Ma? Dad?”

  His mother immediately appeared. Luciana backed away from the door – just far enough out of sight.

  “Where in the world have you been,” his mother squawked.

  “Sorry, ma.” The young man contrived.

  “And you!” She had obviously turned her attention to Rhett. “I haven’t seen you in well over a week. I kept calling, but you never answered. I even tried heading out that way, but your father wouldn’t hear of it… same with you.”

  She turned her attention back to Clark.

  “I was so sick with worry I ‘bout called the Sheriff, but your pa saw that Caitlin was missing, too, and swore the two of you were up to no good. Said he wasn’t raising the red flags for no good reason. Where is your sister anyway? Is that her on the porch? I know I saw a shadow. Might as well tell her to come on in and get an earful from me instead of your father.”

  Luciana stiffened. She wasn’t sure if she should go on in, or pretend she hadn’t heard the woman.

  Rhett came to her rescue before she could decide. “That’s not Caitlin.”

  “Then who is it?”

  “Luciana?” he called out.

  Stepping out of the shadows, she pulled open the screen door. She gave Rhett’s mother a tentative smile. “Hello.”

  A look of surprise registered on the woman’s face.

  “Uh… hello.” Mrs. Marshall patted her hair as if to ensure it wasn’t disheveled, and then ran a hand down her dress in an attempt to smooth it out. “I wasn’t expecting any company. My apologies for any family business you may have overheard.”

  “It’s okay, ma.” Rhett made his way to Luciana. He held a hand out to her, which she eagerly grasped. “Luciana is family. That makes it her business, too.”

  The woman swiftly changed from flustered to indignant. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Luciana, I’d like you to meet my mother.” Rhett gestured towards the woman. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Luciana… my wife.”

  The woman stared at her for a moment, her mouth agape. She slowly peeled her eyes away from Luciana, looking first to Clark. He nodded his affirmation. Then she turned to Rhett.

  “Boy, what have you done? When your father finds out, he’s going to—”<
br />
  “When I find out what?” A gravelly voice preceded the man Luciana knew to be Rhett’s father. Whereas Clark had been a younger carbon copy of his brother, Mr. Marshall was an older version. Tall with the same build, the only real difference was the gray that streaked through his hair and the wrinkles that lined his forehead and corners of his eyes. She noted that this was how she should expect Rhett to look one day – not that she would be around long enough to see such changes.

  Rhett cleared his throat. “Father, I’d like to introduce you to—”

  “Caitlin’s missing.”

  The words were so abrupt they startled everyone. All focus suddenly shifted to Clark.

  “What do you mean Caitlin’s missing?” His father’s voice boomed much like Rhett’s had the night before when he had learned that his sister had been drinking.

  “I don’t know,” Clark said. “She called me last night just about clean out of her mind. I could tell she had been drinking. So I went to pick her up and take her back to Rhett’s place.”

  “Why would you do a fool thing like that,” his father asked. “Why didn’t you just bring her home?”

  The teen shrugged. “I thought maybe it would be better if y’all didn’t see her like that.”

  A dark shadow fell over the man’s face. “So how is she missing if you took her to Rhett’s last night?”

  “Well, sure as shootin’ ain’t my fault. She took the car keys while I was asleep and tore out of there.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, sir. Luciana saw it herself.”

  The mention of her name had thrown the spotlight on her once again. Frank Marshall glared down at her, one eye squinting. She almost felt as though he were weighing her worth.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “And what do you know about my daughter? You one of those no good punks she’s always running off with?”

  Luciana’s mouth opened to explain herself, but closed just as fast when Rhett spoke up.

  “She most certainly is not one of Caitlin’s crew.” He pulled himself up to his full height. “Her name is Luciana and she happens to be my wife.”