My Angel

by Christine Young

  "Why does she resist?" Alexi turned on his friend. "Am I not charming?" His anger and confusion warred with the needs of his family and his desire to give Angela everything she wished for, including him. His arrogance overwhelmed him at times. But he knew she wanted him.

  She could deny him forever, but all he had to do was look into her eyes to see the desire that flared within her when he drew near. Her cheeks would flush a becoming pink shade, and her bottom lip would tremble until she tucked it beneath her top teeth to still it.

  "You do not know why she is so stubborn that she still refuses your loving even though her eyes say something different?" Misha asked, a smile curling his lip, a deep chuckle rumbling across the deck. "It is not for me to tell you, my friend. You must take the time to work out your problems. Talk to her. Besides, I fear you've gone too far this time, Alexi. Ask Angela for the truth. Find out who she is--who she really is. Not the fairy tale she has made up."

  "Therein lies the trouble. She hasn't made anything up. I don't believe for a minute she is capable of such a great deception. A small lie here, or there maybe something to soothe a troubled lover."

  "Then find out what she hasn't told you."

  "You make her sound mysterious. She is a commoner, a simple woman." Alexi stared out to sea.

  "Is she?"

  "You're as easy to see through as glass. What do you know about Angela that I don't? What hasn't she told me?"

  "You need to ask her. If she still refuses to tell you, and if the situation warrants it, I will explain to you what I learned on the trip east. But this is something between you and Angela. It will do the two of you no good if I interfere."

  Alexi braced himself against the railing of the ship, staring out at the water. They would be docked soon, the overland trip beginning. He would have to watch her carefully. There wasn't a moment that passed that he didn't fear her promise to leave. Given the opportunity, she would find the first ship back to the States.

  "She is so angry with me, she wouldn't tell me. Even if I got down on one knee and begged." He ran his hands through his hair, raking it off his forehead and from his eyes. "She's as stubborn as a Colorado mule."

  Alexi massaged his pounding temples. The ship dipped sharply, spray drenching his face. The cold water did little to invigorate his dampened spirits. Alexi strode the length of the ship and back.

  Back and forth.

  Misha watched, a knowing grin on his face, a smile that only served to infuriate Alexi further.

  As Misha suggested, he needed to go below and confront Angela--find out exactly what she wasn't telling him.

  ~ * ~

  Angela felt the weight on the bed before she realized Alexi had entered the room. She'd been awake most of the night, wishing for a way to escape the ship and Alexi's hold over her. She would not--could not--give in to his plans for her. Morning light brightened the room but did little to assuage her wounded emotions.

  Misha had been vigilant in his watch; then Alexi had returned. The door had remained locked, but she'd heard their footsteps outside the cabin and their quiet conversation. There had been no lapse in their guarding of her. No chance for her to escape on the London docks.

  Alexi pulled back the covers she'd drawn to her nose, a deep chuckle following. Despite her resolve, his tender smile made her heart turn over.

  "I know what you're about, my sweet concubine. You cannot hide from me."

  He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. She opened her eyes. "I know," she said on a sigh. "I don't want to hide from you. I want to change your mind."

  "The day is beautiful, the ocean incredibly blue, and I don't want you down here. You're far too pale." His fingers caressed her cheek. "The sunshine will give color to your skin and breathe life into your body."

  "I'd like to go outside," she said, startling herself. Until this moment, she'd wanted to escape the gossip and the stares. Everyone must know she slept in Alexi's bed. They would believe the worst. Shame swept through her, anger close on its heels.

  "Good, then get dressed. I'll wait for you in the hall. Don't take too long; the dolphins might get tired of their games, and I'd hate for you to miss them." His smile filled her heart with memories.

  "Dolphins?'' She sat up, the sheets held tightly to her breasts. "Are there really dolphins out there?"

  "Dolphins..." He winked. "Hurry up."

  He rose from the bed. Emptiness and a profound loneliness welled deep inside Angela. A deep chasm of mistrust stood between them. The loss was acute, magnified with each passing second.

  In a few long strides he stood by the door, his body framed in sunlight. Dressed in formfitting breeches and a white shirt, he gave off an aristocratic air. He might really be a prince, she thought. A prince, a devil, a tender lover--she wanted the man, needed him, but he was unwilling to sacrifice for her, or believe in her. She was good enough for any man--even a prince.

  Should he have to sacrifice?

  Reminded of what she gave up to be with Alexi and the self-respect she'd lose if she gave in to his wishes, Angela felt heated tears gather in the back of her throat. Loneliness and a deep-seated fear knifed her heart. Stubbornness welled inside her, a determination so strong she almost relented just to ease the pain.

  For some time now, Angela had wondered if a little bit of Alexi wasn't better than nothing at all. Her father would be so ashamed of her thoughts, but she wasn't. She loved Alexi with all her heart, and all she wanted was a life with him, a chance for happiness.

  He believed a mistress was held in higher regard than a wife. Once she'd vowed that she would settle for nothing less than what her mother and father had known, a love everlasting.

  But now...

  Did two people have to be married to love forever?

  Angela didn't have any idea what she could expect from this life he planned for her. Perhaps it would be better for her to settle for a place in the background rather than a place at his side. Second best...

  She'd never played second fiddle to anyone.

  "Hurry up, lazybones," he said, a rakish smile on his handsome face.

  Angela's heart broke in two. She knew what she had to do. The door closed behind Alexi and shut him off from her.

  She pushed her hair from her face--her desperate thoughts from her mind--and did exactly what Alexi commanded. She hurried.

  A few minutes later, she decided aloud, "I'm ready."

  Angela stepped from the room, dressed in lemon yellow and prepared to face life rather than hide from it.

  She understood how much she needed his love. When she left him, she'd hold his memory close to her heart. The few moments they'd had together she'd cherish forever. Memories would have to be enough to last a lifetime.

  "You look lovely." Alexi offered his arm and she accepted, her fingers closing over his strength, absorbing his energy and courage. She knew and loved the power of this man, and she loved his gentleness, too.

  He commanded men, expecting absolute obedience, yet he accepted her wishes and had not forced her or tried to seduce her. She knew he'd wanted her. So many times Alexi had looked at her with such longing and desire she knew he missed her desperately.

  Yet he'd held back. He'd kept his word to her.

  They walked in companionable silence, Angela soaking up the fresh air and warm sunshine. Alexi had told her the truth about this day. It was one to remember.

  Beside her, he cleared his throat. He touched her gently on the shoulder and she turned to him, her eyes lifted to meet his own. His diamond earring sparkled in the sunlight. "Misha says you're not telling me something I should know. Is that true?" he asked.

  They stopped at the bow of the ship. At his words her fingers gripped the railing, biting into the smooth wood. She leaned forward, letting the wind ruffle through her hair and her clothing. More than anything she wanted to tell him what he wanted to know.

  Two dolphins played tag in the wake of the ship. She smiled, pointing to themthen laughing at their antics. />
  "Angela." His hand rested on her shoulder, turning her gently. "Don't run from me."

  Once more she wanted to hide, needed to run as far away as possible. She closed her eyes to the bleakness she felt, tried to push it all to the back of her mind and enjoy the day. She found she couldn't.

  Fear stopped her. Fear for Alexi's life kept her from telling him her name.

  "I'd like to go back downstairs."

  Alexi shook his head and eyed her critically. "Hiding again? I never thought of you as a coward. If you don't tell me what I need to know, Misha will."

  Misha will. Those two words hung on the air.

  When she looked at him, his eyes warmed with tenderness. Perhaps she had nothing to fear.

  Misha would tell all. But what could Misha know?

  Her already frayed nerves unraveled. "I don't understand what you're talking about." Confusion gripped her. "There is nothing that can be said that will solve what's wrong between us."

  "Who are you?" he questioned.

  She shook her head, denying him what he asked for. Panic, raw and dangerous, danced through her. She could never tell him she was Sam Chamberlain's daughter. The shame would swallow her whole.

  His voice turned hard, unforgiving. "Just Angela. That's what you told me in the bordello. Just Angela, as if your name had no meaning or value. Who are you, Angela? What do you hide from me?"

  The words left unsaid between them burned like acid in her soul. "When we were at the bordello, I couldn't tell you what you wanted to know. I'd given my word. It was a vow I had to keep."

  With the back of his hand, he caressed her cheek, lifted her chin, a promise in his eyes.

  "And now?" His voice turned smooth and as warm as the best Kentucky whiskey.

  "Knowing my name will serve no purpose save to humiliate me. I don't understand why Misha is so persistent."

  "He thinks I should keep one eye trained behind me. Misha fears for my life."

  "Only if my father followed me, and I told him not to."

  Her heart jumped to her throat, and she knew her mistake instantly. Her father would make sure his little girl was safe and protected. He would track her to hell and back.

  On her shoulder, Alexi's hand tightened. "Your father? If I were the father of a beautiful girl and she disappeared, I'd follow her trail and I'd never stop seeking until I found her. I'd kill the man who tarnished her reputation, who abused her in any way. Is that the way of it?" he queried, his expression solemn. "Except I didn't tarnish your reputation, did I?" His voice was bitter. "You came to me. You were willing and loving."

  "In this case you wouldn't have to, I told him I was with you and that I loved you." She laughed softly but her heart cried. "In my letter I wrote that I was happy and you meant to marry me. Wasn't that terribly presumptuous of me?" she asked, her words a hollow, empty sound whipped away by the wind.

  For a brief moment he looked chagrined. Then he smiled, a soft, tender smile. "Are you happy?" he asked her, his voice low and magical. Once again one of his long fingers rested under her chin, lifting it so their eyes met.

  Tears pooled in hers, a half sob escaping her. She tried to turn from him. He stopped her.

  "No, I'm not. I've never been so unhappy and so lonely in my life." She trembled beneath his touch and the force of his darkening gaze.

  "It doesn't have to be that way." He bent close, brushed a kiss across her forehead--a friendly kiss, nothing more. "Agree to my proposal and I'll make you the happiest woman in the world." He seduced her with the warmth of his voice, with the tenderness she knew he felt for her. "It is an honest and heartfelt proposal."

  Angela turned in his arms, her heart pierced through to its very center. Yet she leaned against him, used his warmth to comfort and soothe her bruised feelings, used his strength to restore her own determination not to yield to him. "The saddest woman in the world," she whispered, and was sure her words were lost in the wind blowing off the sea.

  His arms were crossed just below her breasts. His shirt was of finest lawn and rolled up so his forearms were bared. He smelled of the sea and the summer wind. She turned her face sideways and rested her cheek against him, enjoying his warmth, knowing if she'd give in to his demand, she could feel this way all the time. But if she gave in, she'd never be happy.

  "Will you become mine, Angela? I need you. Just say the word and I promise you'll never regret the decision. You'll never regret coming to my bed."

  Need, not love.

  She wanted both. God, how she loved him and needed him all at the same time. She adored everything about him; his strength, his tenderness, his patience, his stubbornness.

  He was her mate. She deserved more than the title of mistress. She deserved his name. Alexi offered her nothing else, nor would he ever.

  "What if I agree? What then?" she asked, knowing that by taking this step she was throwing away a lifetime of teachings for a few years of pleasure.

  A lengthy pause followed. "I'll cherish you forever."

  Cherish, not love. In the scheme of the universe, did that minor difference matter?

  Yes. She could never live half a life, and half a life would be all he'd give her.

  He turned her in his arms once again, his fingers sifting through her hair until her head tilted upward. Their lips met in a bittersweet kiss--a kiss that sealed a promise between them, a promise she couldn't keep.

  "Alexi?"

  His knuckles rested on her cheek. "You won't regret this decision."

  She turned into his warmth, kissed his fingers. / already do. She fought the burning tears that welled deep inside and clung to her throat.

  She didn't know how to tell him that he'd misunderstood. She still had no intention of coming to his bed.

  ~ * ~

  Why did victory feel bittesweet and so hollow? Alexi asked himself more than once. He'd seen the unshed tears in her eyes, watched her stubborn courage melt away as the days passed, slowly changing into weeks. She wanted him and had been willing to hold out for his name until she realized she would never have it.

  From the start all he had wanted was to make her happy. He'd failed miserably. He felt an uncontrollable need to reassure her and make promises he couldn't keep.

  He' d suffered, been through hell and back, while she'd played games with him, toyed with his emotions. None of what she did or said had made sense to him.

  She'd suffered, too, or had this all been an elaborate hoax, a match, two against two? Had she played with him in hopes of gaining more?

  It had all been needless. She'd had at least one other man in her bed, had pretended to be something she wasn't. When he'd discovered the blatant lie, she should have given in gracefully and admitted everything to him.

  Still, she trifled with his affections, his honor, his very heart and soul. She thought nothing of loyalty and duty.

  He watched her, never taking his gaze from her. To his eyes, her beauty outshone the sun and the stars. Once he'd believed in her and her innate honesty.

  Somehow he still did.

  Angela sat in the sunshine near the bow of the ship. The wind blew her hair from the pins she'd secured it with, and her face was tilted heavenward. Her pose was angelic, tempting in its purity, beguiling in its innocence.