Night Angel (Angel Haven)

by Miller, Annette

  “Can we walk around the balcony before lunch?” she asked.

  Edna looked at her watch. “I think we have time. The view of the garden from up here is wonderful.” She opened the door, and they stepped into the chill air.

  Karen barely heard what Edna was talking about. She was looking for Randall and wishing she could talk to him. The occupants of the grand house sent chills down her spine. She prayed silently for time to move quickly. If ever she needed to talk to the guardian, it was now.

  Chapter Eight

  “Thanks for an informative day,” Karen said as she and Edna sat down to dinner. She’d popped enough extra-strength everything to make her head stop throbbing, getting it down to a dull, but bearable ache. The warm, amber light from the chandelier was low, making it easier to sit there.

  Edna poured blood-colored wine from the decanter into their glasses. “My pleasure.”

  “Good evening, ladies,” Bradford said from the doorway.

  Karen stood. “You’re back early. We missed you.” Liar, her inner voice screamed at her, making the headache stab sharply for a second.

  Edna turned in her seat to smile at him. “Yes, we did. It was too quiet without you here.”

  Bradford took his usual seat, the yellow-orange glow from the chandelier casting strange, dancing shadows over his face. “We wrapped things up quicker than expected.” He reached out and grabbed Karen’s hand. “I didn’t want to spend any more time away from you. So, how did you two spend your day?”

  Karen gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to snatch her hand away. She caught a glimpse of something in his eyes that made her shiver, and she looked away quickly. “Edna showed me around,” she said, nodding to the older woman. “I knew the house was huge, but I had no idea there were so many rooms.”

  Bradford glanced at her. “Sometimes this place is a bit much for me. That’s why I’m glad you stayed longer. It gets lonely here.” He shrugged. “But it was my parents’ home, so I can’t bring myself to sell it.”

  “Is that why you had the murder mystery weekend even though you’re busy with work right now?” she asked. “To have people around?”

  “Exactly.” He raised his glass to her. “You really are a good detective.”

  Karen stared at her plate as she pushed the food around. “Thanks.”

  “Maybe before you leave, I’ll have a party.”

  “That’d be great. I’d like to meet your friends.” Karen drank some wine, trying to wash the lies out of her mouth.

  ****

  Edna left Karen and Bradford alone in the drawing room after dinner, saying she needed to call her sister.

  “I think she planned this.” He grinned.

  Karen laughed, trying hard to conceal her nervousness. “I’m sure you’re right.” This was the last thing she wanted. Her confidence at being alone with Bradford wasn’t very high and she felt he knew it.

  He turned on the CD player, soft music filling the room. He held out his hand. “Shall we practice, just in case there’s time for a get-together?”

  She accepted his hand, rising to her feet. “Sure. I love dancing.”

  He held her close as they swayed in time to the smooth music surrounding them. She couldn’t pull away without making him suspicious, so she focused her thoughts on Randall instead. How would it feel to be held by him like this? What would happen when the music stopped? She itched to pull out of Bradford’s grasp, but her own feelings didn’t matter. She was doing this for Randall and the kids. She needed information. Time to say something.

  “I found out one of your secrets today,” she whispered.

  “Oh?” His voice was a smooth purr.

  Karen detected no change in him. She let the statement hang a moment more, trying to make him sweat. “I found out you have a private office. Edna was coming out of it this morning. She says she helps you with your work at times.”

  “It’s true,” he said. “My private office is really nothing special. I keep everything extremely important or time sensitive in there.”

  She pulled away from him slightly. “Any chance I can see it sometime?” He didn’t feel like Randall. He felt manufactured, fake. Randall was warm and felt like the woods she found him in, natural and untamed. Stop it, she told herself.

  He held her tighter. “It’s just dull business paperwork.”

  “But if it’s important to you, I’d like to be part of it.” The answers she wanted were probably in there.

  The smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe someday. Now, what about you? Any private office for you?” His grip on her hand tightened as he watched her, almost studying her.

  She laughed. “No. I run my own martial arts school. I have an assistant to do office stuff. I teach classes.” She smiled at him. “I love the kids. It’s so great when they get a particular move right.”

  His hand traveled up and down her back. “You certainly are full of surprises. I didn’t think your career would be so physical.”

  She flinched, just a tiny bit. Think of the kids, she reminded herself. It’s for the kids. “What did you think I did for a living?”

  “Truthfully, I saw you as more of the business type.” He lowered her arms and slowly slid her light jacket off her shoulders. Then he opened the top button on her shirt. “I missed you, Karen.”

  She stepped back. “I missed you, too.” No, you didn’t, her inner voice screamed as Bradford kissed her. You were upset when he showed up. And right now, all you want is Randall to be kissing you instead of him. She lowered her eyes. “I’d better go upstairs. I don’t want to rush things between us.”

  Anger flared in his eyes so briefly, Karen almost believed she imagined it. Almost. A second later, his smile was back, but his eyes weren’t as warm as before. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Give me time,” she whispered. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

  She supposed Bradford thought his kiss would excite her, but all she wanted was her toothbrush. And he was fast with his hands. She closed the top three buttons of her shirt as she mounted the stairs. Randall’s face filled her mind. She could almost feel his arms around her. Her breath quickened, and she tripped on the last few steps. Her insides flamed, making her fan herself with her hand.

  She slammed the door to her room and headed straight for the balcony. She leaned on the rail, taking big gulps of the cool night air. Will I ever get to kiss Randall? She was beginning to doubt it. The guardian told her the big kiss always comes at the end of the story. She wasn’t even sure her story had an end, let alone a happy one. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. “Damn,” she murmured.

  She could feel the calm face she always showed people beginning to slip away. Emotions rolled through her, starting her trembling all over again. She was losing control over herself and didn’t know how to stop it. Worse. She didn’t think she wanted to stop it.

  “Good evening, Karen.”

  She jumped. The guardian was closer to her than ever, his voice right in her ear.

  “Oh, hey.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “You’ve been crying.” She could hear the frown in his voice. “Who has hurt you? They’ll not do so again.”

  “No one,” she choked out. “Just too many thoughts, not enough action.”

  “You’ve been thinking of Randall?” he asked quietly.

  She turned back to the railing, staring out into the darkness. “Yes. I’m tired of quick embraces. I want to be held in a way that leads to interesting conclusions. I want to stop using my imagination.” She slammed her hands on the railing. “I don’t want to wait for the end of my story for a kiss.”

  Leaves rustled near the balcony rail. “I understand what you’re going through.” His voice soothed her, calming her jangled emotions. “I know it’s hard, and I know it hurts. Trust us both. It’s only for a little longer. Then you’ll have your story’s end.”

  Karen cursed
the tears that fell again. “He said he has feelings for me. I know I do for him. I just want us to have a moment to let us explore those feelings.” If this was what Misty went through with Jack, she no longer felt jealous. True love was hard work, harder than she ever thought possible.

  “How am I going to get through this?” she whispered.

  His large hand came through the leaves and lightly rested on her shoulder. “Believe me when I tell you he’s as frustrated as you. He feels his need as strongly as you do yours.”

  “Good,” she pouted. “I’m glad I’m not in this alone.”

  The guardian laughed. “That’s more like it. Be strong. The time will come sooner than you think.”

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Bradford has a private study. I’m sure there’s something in there that can help you. It stays locked.”

  “Randall mentioned this study, also.”

  Maybe he would know more about Edna and the syringe she’d found on the floor. “Edna, the older woman that’s staying here with him, showed me around today. When I was in her room, I found a needle. I’m not sure if she has a medical condition. She never said anything about one.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re still safe, aren’t you?”

  She patted his hand. “Yes. They both think I’m warming to Bradford.”

  Silence. Then, “Are you?”

  She looked at him with disbelief. “How can you ask that? After what I’ve found out about Bradford, every time he touches me, my skin crawls. Yet, I deal with it because Randall needs me to keep Bradford busy so he can look for the children.” She shook her head. “We’re both stuck with Bradford’s unwanted attentions until the children are safe.”

  She walked away, folding her arms as she turned her back to him. “Then I just get done telling you Randall has all of my emotions on pins and needles and you ask if I have feelings for Bradford! Maybe I should kick your mystical butt.”

  He chuckled at her outrage. “He’ll be glad to know about your emotional state.”

  “Are you done making fun of me?” She waited for an answer. Nothing. “Thank you. May I continue?”

  “Please do, dear one.”

  She lowered her voice. “I asked Edna about a small, unused room in the basement of this place and she said that Cray uses it sometimes when he has work to do. I know I saw blood in there, and she just made light of it. When she took me on a tour of the house, I found the syringe in her room. Does she have some sort of medical condition? Has she done something to Randall?”

  Karen sensed him pulling away as he withdrew his hand. “No,” he told her. “She didn’t do anything to him yet, and she doesn’t have any medical problems we’re aware of. Edna is Dr. Strathmore, one of the country’s leading geneticists. She’s close to Troyington. She’ll tell him everything if she knows how you feel about Randall.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Is she spying on me?”

  Leaves rustled near the trunk. “It’s possible. She’ll hurt you to protect Troyington. Keep your guard up around her. Watch what you do and say.”

  Karen frowned. “Her bedroom window looks over the wood shed.” Her hands shook as nausea crawled through her stomach. “Could she have seen Randall and me together?”

  “Possibly.” Warmth crept back in his voice. “I’ll tell Randall all you told me.”

  “Not everything,” she insisted. “I mean it. Not one word about pins and needles.”

  ****

  Karen’s alarm woke her as the sun began to rise. She yanked up her jeans and pulled a heavy sweater over her shirt. She hoped Randall would be at the clearing she’d seen him in yesterday. It was a long shot, but she had to try. The house was dark and silent as she slipped out the french doors, retracing her steps from the day before.

  Randall stood in the clearing and her face burned as she watched him in the light of the rising sun. He was naked, the dawn bathing him in an ethereal, orange glow, turning his tanned skin deep gold. As he lifted his arms, she watched his back ripple with strength. Her eyes drifted down to the tightness in his buttocks, the power in his legs. His hair fluttered in the early morning breeze, making her want to run her hands through it, to feel his skin, to capture the very essence of who he was right now.

  As he laid his head back, she glimpsed a smile of pure joy on his face as the sun rose higher. The muscles in his arms tightened and stretched as he moved them straight out and slowly lowered them to his sides. He seemed more than just a man. He’d become part of the woods surrounding him, a strange and powerful force of nature contained in one perfect body. Power poured out from him, flowing over her, making her eyes water as the sun rose higher.

  He pulled on his pants, stopped, and turned, spying her leaning against a tree, watching him. He turned that devastating smile to her and extended his hand. “What are you doing out here so early?” She could see his breath in the morning light, but he stood there in bare feet and no shirt.

  She ran to him, taking his hand. “I was looking for you.” Her voice trembled as she stared at him, still seeing him as he was before denim and cotton interfered. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t her voice ever come out strong any more?

  “Really?” His amusement broke her out of the spell she’d stuck herself in. “Why?”

  She sighed as he pulled her into his arms. His skin was warm, as warm as the dawn’s light made him look. “I wanted to know if you had a chance to talk to our friend. He said he’d tell you what we talked about.”

  He held her close, stroking her hair. “Yeah. He told me everything.” He raised an eyebrow. “Pins and needles, eh?”

  She covered her face with her hands. “That’s it! He’s dead and then I’m joining him.”

  “It’s all right, Karen.” Randall pulled her hands down, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Didn’t he tell you my feelings are just like yours?”

  “Well, yes, but it’s not the same,” she insisted. Her heart pounded as she watched his eyes light up. “I mean, you’re the hero of this fairy tale. You’re not supposed to have pins and needles. Only the poor heroine is allowed those kind of feelings.”

  He smoothed a stray strand of her hair back. “It is the same. Pins and needles is the most accurate description I’ve heard for true love in years. And heroes, more often than not, feel the same things as the heroines. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He pulled her tightly against his chest. “We’ll have an end to our story, just like he told you.”

  His skin was smooth and hard, reminding her of a pebble worn down by water. “What if it’s not the end we want?” Her arms snaked around his neck. “What happens if we can’t save the children?”

  “Don’t worry about the future. Worry about now.”

  Randall felt so right in her embrace. He was more natural, more real to her than Bradford could ever hope to be. Her eyes closed when she felt him place a lingering kiss on her forehead. “That doesn’t count, does it?”

  He laughed. “No, there’s only one that counts.”

  “I wish we could stay here forever,” she whispered, gazing up at him.

  “Soon.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “As soon as I find the children. It won’t be much longer.”

  A faint sound reached her. “Do you hear something? It sounds like music.”

  He stared at her. “You can hear it?” She nodded. “It’s the wood folk. They’re welcoming the new day. Humans can’t usually hear it.”

  She laid her hands on the hard planes of his chest. “Maybe it’s because I’m with you.”

  He led her to a large oak. Placing her hand against the trunk, he laid his over hers. “Can you hear it better?”

  Karen cocked her head. “Yes. It’s beautiful.” She swayed in time to the rhythms filling her. “It gets into you somehow.” She noticed the trees looked fuller, the sunrise brighter, and all the noises surrounding her were amplified, clearer. “I’ve never seen the woods become so...”

  “Alive,” he
finished. He pulled the heavy sweater from her and wrapped his arms around her, moving with her to the fairy music.

  He drew her close, his chest pressing into her back, his arm resting under her breasts as he held her hand, guiding her feet through quick, intricate steps, their bodies moving as one. She closed her eyes, the feelings racing through her defying her every attempt to describe them. Sparks danced along her skin as his heat flowed into her, making her dizzy with desire. She tried to get nearer to him, to feel more of him against her.

  She reached back, stroking his cheek with her fingertips. Laying her head back on his shoulder, she sighed when he caressed her neck with rough fingers. His hand moved upwards, smoothing her hair back. She gasped when his other hand made its way under her shirt to rest lightly on her stomach. His touch was light and heavy, cold and hot, rough and gentle. All without him moving one finger against her suddenly overly sensitive skin.

  His bare chest warmed her back through her shirt as their dance continued. She could feel his hips press against her, quickening her breath. He laid his cheek on hers, the contact making her desire rise higher. He kissed her neck, sending fireworks shooting behind her eyelids. As he pulled her closer, she felt his need for her; it was tangible and alive, hanging in the air around them. She could feel it embrace her as his hands glided over her with a feather light touch.

  Their steps made no sound as they moved across the leafy carpet. The fairy music built to a crescendo, sending her pulse racing, her temperature soaring, making her fear she would catch fire. He spun her away, then back, his hands drifting to her hips as he pulled her close.

  The music faded as he ended the dance, bowing to her. He raised her hand to his lips. At his touch, Karen wondered how she was still standing. Her mouth was dry and her chest heaved as she struggled to suck air into her lungs, while parts of her body were screaming in protest at being ignored.

  “I’ve never danced that way or felt like that before,” she whispered.