It's in His Touch (19 page)

Her ex had probably made the mental battle even harder by screwing a girl who was barely legal while Angelique was sick. Blake raked a hand over his face. Gabriel was the rubber boob, not Angelique. Blake’s stomach knotted every time he thought of her going back to Albuquerque to work for a guy who had treated her worse than the dirt he wiped off his expensive Italian shoes.

She was young, smart, the toughest woman he’d ever met, and the most beautiful. And the only woman he’d ever wanted to beg to stay with him. He just had to get
her
to see how special she was.

He walked to the fireplace and flicked the switch next to it. Voilà, a picturesque fire instantly appeared behind the glass. He chuckled and headed into the bathroom.

Flickering candles were scattered around the bathroom in asymmetrical groups, yet each seemed in its perfect place—talent only creative women and gay men possessed. The overhead lights were turned off, but the candles cast a warm glow through the bathroom and shadows danced on the tiled walls. A corner tub with jets looked as though it’d never been used. That would be remedied soon, if he had anything to say about it.

Two plush brown bath towels sat on an ornate brass stool next to the shower door, perfectly folded. He stepped over to the shower and placed a handful of gold squares on top of the towels.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice, but it still echoed off the shower walls.

He pulled the frosted glass door open, and the sight took his breath away. Her back to him, she washed the last shampoo suds from her long black hair. Water cascaded over a defined yet feminine back that angled into a slender waist, dimples appearing just above her shapely bottom. The remnants of suds mingled with water cascaded down long, graceful legs. A thin gold chain adorned one ankle, and he wanted to lick the water droplets from every inch of her body. From the red tips of her flushed ears, all the way down to her polished toes.

He pulled in a jagged breath and stepped into the shower.

His broad shoulders blocked the steamy water, and a shiver raced over her, her skin pebbling.

“Come here.” He laced one arm around her waist, the other around her collarbone to caress the opposite shoulder, and pulled her back against him.

“Oh!”
She sucked in a breath when the evidence of his arousal nudged her from behind.

He smiled against her ear.

He angled their bodies so the water reached over his shoulder and cascaded down her front, and she warmed against him yet still quivered. Anticipation mingled with uncertainty flowed off her in pulsing waves.

He held her close, stroking her shoulder and the flesh just below her belly button. Coaxed her body into following his in a gentle, rhythmic sway as the water heated their skin and soothed their senses. Finally, the tension in her body slacked, and she relaxed into him.

“You’re so sweet, Blake.” Her voice shook, and he peeked around to find a tear trekking down her already wet cheek.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “I may not have sexual superpowers, but I’ve never brought a woman to tears either.”

She didn’t laugh. “Be serious.” This time a small sob escaped. “I don’t cry.” She sniffed. “I’m not a crier.”

“Uh-huh, so you’re not crying, but tell me what’s making you not cry. We’re
standing in the shower naked together—I think it’s okay to share.”

She took in a deep, ragged breath, both her hands covering his. “After the mastectomies, Gabriel couldn’t stomach . . . intimacy with me. He avoided me at bedtime, left the room when I got undressed, never came into the bathroom when I showered. When I was feeling better and was done with most of the reconstruction, I tried to . . . entice him. He . . .” Her voice cracked.

“Shh, babe,” Blake whispered into her hair. “He’s not worth it.”

“No, you wanted to hear this. And it’s not really about him. I mean it is, but it’s not. Shit.” She swiped under her eyes.

Blake kept the gentle sway of their bodies going, one arm still draped around her collarbone, the other around her abdomen. “I’m listening,” he said. A gentle sob rippled through her, and she trembled against him.

He wished the hot water could wash away every bit of damage the illness and the idiot ex had inflicted on her mind and body. Unfortunately, he knew healing that kind of wound wasn’t so simple. Now she was finally talking, opening up about the hurt and pain of her circumstances, and he wanted her to pour out her fears, her worries, so he could help carry them. Then he planned to make love to her half of the night, and spend the other half with her wrapped in his arms.

“When he touched me that night, he looked like he might be sick. He couldn’t even get it . . . well, you know, he couldn’t perform.”

Blake tightened his hold around her.

“The next week I went back to work. One night I forgot some files and stopped by the office late at night. I walked in on him and the Cheerleader. Trust me when I say he had no problems getting it up with her. It was just me who he found repulsive.”

Blake’s stomach pitched at how much that must’ve hurt. How it must’ve shattered her already fragile self-image and been a setback to the emotional recovery a person goes through after a tragic illness.

His fingers caressed down her belly and stopped just above the curls. “There’s not an ounce of repulsiveness in your beautiful Italian body. You’re a knockout.” He pulled her against his swollen member. “He didn’t deserve you.”

Instinct took over, and Angelique’s bottom rubbed against him. He groaned, his erection throbbing against her backside. The curve of her ear flushed as he showered it with wet, suckling kisses, and her fevered skin burned his lips.

“I feel like a hideous monster.”

She gasped when his fingers sank into her soft curls and found the nub hidden in her cleft, already throbbing with desire. For him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but for how long? Would her desire for him come to an end when the case was over?

“Never thought any man would find me attractive again,” she breathed out in a desperate whisper as his fingers gently worked the pulsing nub that went molten under his touch.

“You were wrong.”
So wrong
. Blake feathered his tongue and mouth down her neck and nipped her shoulder, leaving a trail of pebbled skin in his wake.

She’d probably never been more wrong, because Blake couldn’t think of anything
but
her. How much he wanted her in his bed, wanted to share his life with her, wanted to snuggle in front of the fire with her during the cold winter nights. He was even compromising the trust he’d built with his friends here in Red River by keeping her purpose a secret just to have more time with her. But she obviously wasn’t interested in the same thing. The way she stiffened and audibly sucked in a breath when he’d mentioned kids and a family had communicated her lack of maternal desire.

Unless he could coax that maternal desire out from under her steel armor the way he had her sexual desire. At the moment, her sexual desire was alive and well and hopefully about to gasp out his name.

His finger shifted into a circular rhythm. Within seconds she was doing just what he’d hoped.

“Blake.”

He smiled. “What?” he murmured against her ear and reached for her slick opening from behind.

Another deep moan escaped her, and satisfaction swelled in his chest.

“Yes!”

Never turning her toward him, because it was up to her to take that step and allow him to see and touch her breasts in the light, he threaded one hand on top of hers and braced their palms against the shower wall. His other arm still laced around her middle, he dipped his knees and slid up and into her wetness with one stroke. Her liquid heat clenched around him, and she shuddered and arched back against him.

“You’re so wet, baby. So ready for me.”

Her heated flesh undulated around him, and he moved inside her, bending his knees and thrusting upward, over and over. And over. Until her body tightened around him, and she shuddered, murmuring his name again on a strangled, desperate cry.

She collapsed back against him, and he chuckled. “I forgot something.”

“Wh . . . what?” she asked, barely coherent.

He opened the door, still holding on to her so she wouldn’t puddle onto the shower floor. The fact that she responded to him so completely, with such raw emotion made his chest expand. Withdrawing from her, he reached for a gold square and ripped it open with his teeth.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Hurry,” she said, eyes still closed and voice breathy.

He laughed. “So bossy.” He rolled it on with one hand and positioned himself behind her again.

“You’re just now figuring that out?”

He entered her again, and she lay back against him, her satiated body pliant under his touch. Her tall frame molded to his. One of her hands gripped his thigh, her fingers flexing into his flesh. It drove him on, urged him to take her to the brink again and again while he had the chance. While she’d let him into her head and maybe even into her heart.

Still bracing her other hand against the wall, he took her sweet earlobe between his teeth and sank his teeth in a fraction until she gasped. “The minute I laid eyes on you I knew you’d be just as bossy with your clothes off as you are with them on.” His hips rolled into her from behind with even, confident strokes. “You’re everything I dreamed of and so much more.”

With the hot water drenching them, he made love to her until her body clenched around him again, and this time, he rode the wave over the edge too.

C
hapter
S
ixteen

Angelique wanted tonight, the time she had with Blake, to last a lifetime. It was a dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

When Blake stepped out of the shower, he’d kept his back to her, so mindful of her insecurities over her body. Once they dried off and wrapped themselves in soft bath towels, he took her to bed and made love to her all over again with just the fire casting a glow across the room. Both lying on their sides with him behind her, he’d anchored a strong arm around her middle and held her against him, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy, then pushing her over as she arched against him.

Jeez, how many times had she called out his name tonight? And had she really begged for more? Surely she imagined it, because Angelique Barbetta didn’t beg. Except that she had. Quite loudly, in fact.

But at the moment, snuggled into the nook of Blake’s arm, she didn’t much care.

She traced and explored the hills and valleys of his chest with gentle fingertips. “Tell me about your mom.”

He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “There’s not much to tell, really.”

“What was she like?”

He smoothed a hand over his face. “After having me, she miscarried several times. It destroyed her. She suffered from depression and just drew so far into her own shell that no one could reach her. Not even me or my dad. When Dad finally left, I wanted to go with him because living with Mom was so lonely, but I felt guilty about leaving her alone. She was just so sad all the time.” His hand fell heavily back onto the bed. “I stayed because I felt sorry for her.”

Angelique’s hand stilled against Blake’s chest. If he felt sorry for his mom, did he feel the same way about Angelique because she’d been ill?

“What?” His arm tightened around her.

“Hmm?” she asked.

“You just tensed.” His warm palm slid down her arm. “Why?”

She bit her lip and gave her head a gentle shake. “Nothing. It’s just . . . tell me about her cancer.”

He sighed and stroked her hair. “Are you sure you want to hear this? You already know how it ends.” His voice thickened with sadness.

“I’m sure.”

“I honestly don’t know much. She kept it to herself. She was a nurse, but she’d lost several jobs over the years because of her dark moods. My dad always sent money to take care of us. She didn’t tell me about her diagnosis until the very end. I’d been in medical school and then the long hours of residency. She said she didn’t want to worry me.” He shook his head against the pillow. “She’d given up on life a long time before she got sick. I don’t think she even tried to fight it. It was like she wanted to go.”

Angelique let out a gentle sigh against his firm chest, their bodies tangled together with the soft down comforter and fire keeping them cozy. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest coaxed her into a euphoric dreamlike state, not quite asleep and not quite awake. “What was it like for you?”

The ebb and flow of his breathing stopped, and his chest under her fingertips went still, like he couldn’t breathe.

“Lonely. My whole life with her was lonely.” His voice was faint in the darkness.

“I’m so sorry.” She placed a gentle kiss on his chest.

He put a finger under her chin and tilted her mouth up to meet his, then brushed a warm kiss across her lips. “Let’s talk about something else.” He wrapped his hand around the curve of her neck. “Like how good you taste,” he whispered against her mouth before seizing it with a deep, luxurious kiss.

His stomach rumbled.

She giggled. “I think you’re hungry for the taste of something besides me.”

“That’s debatable.” He tried to lay another kiss on her, but she pulled back.

“Seriously, I can make something to eat. How hungry are you?” Her hand caressed down to the roped muscles over his abdomen.

He laughed and smoothed a palm down her ribs to rest in the curve of her waist. “Starved. I think we burned more calories tonight than an Olympic swimmer.”

“I’ve got some fettuccini in the fridge.” His muscles danced under her wandering fingertips.

“Sounds good,” he said, his voice thickening. “But if you keep that up, we’ll burn another few thousand calories first.”

She laughed and pulled her hand away. “You stay here. I’ll bring a tray up.” Rolling out of bed, she walked to the large walk-in closet for a robe, her back to him.

She slipped on her kimono and cinched the belt, then walked back into the bedroom. Blake lay in bed, rolled up onto an elbow. The sheet had slipped low, and the firelight danced over his muscled torso.

“Need help?”

Oh, yeah.
She needed his help, but not in the kitchen.

“Nope. I got it.” She stopped at the door, one hand on the frame, and looked back at the beautiful man in her bed. He was everything she needed in a man—kind, loving, reliable. Yet completely the opposite of what she’d always thought she wanted. Red River and its country doctor were quickly redefining her idea of ambition and success. She smiled. “Be right back.”

His grin was mischievous. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She drifted down the stairs, and her fingertips played along the rustic wood banister. She let Sarge out of the pantry and opened the back door for him. He darted outside for a potty break while she went back to the kitchen and dished out pasta onto a plate, popping it in the microwave. After digging around in the pantry, she found a small serving tray and loaded it with two sets of utensils and napkins. The microwave beeped, and she added the steaming plate of fettuccini to the tray and uncorked a bottle of red wine.

As she poured the wine into two stemmed glasses, the door creaked.

“All done, Sarge?”

A glass in each hand, she turned toward the tray and stifled a scream, her heart leaping into her throat.

“It’s not just Sarge,” said Gabriel.

Her heart thundering, she set the glasses on the tray and sagged against the bar. Sarge scampered into the kitchen, with his long, thin tail wagging.

“Sorry to startle you, but the door was open.” Gabriel pushed it closed with a click.

Angelique rubbed both temples, then looked at the clock over the microwave.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel? It’s two thirty in the morning.” She could barely keep her tone civil.

“I needed to see you.” He glanced around the cabin. “Nice place. The firm really put you up in style.”

“What do you want?” she ground out.

He sighed, giving her a coy smile.

“You know I really hated the way things ended between us, Ang.” He walked around the bar and joined her in the kitchen.

“You looked pretty happy to me with Ciara’s ankles around your neck. The noises you were making weren’t sounds of agony either.” She crossed rigid arms over her chest.

“That was a mistake. A lapse in judgment. Couldn’t you find it in your heart to forgive and forget?” He took a step toward her.

“Don’t come near me.” She stepped back. “What’s this really about, Gabriel? Stop playing games and get to it.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I think Ciara was after me from the beginning. She played on my sympathies when you were sick.”

No kidding.

“It was her fault. She threw herself at me.” He stepped closer again. “But it’s over now. I’ve broken it off with her, and you and I can be together again.”

Unbelievable.
He actually believed his own bullshit.

“Uh-huh.” Angelique pursed her lips. “And what about your baby, Gabriel? Did you forget that little detail?”

“I’ll take care of the baby.” He hesitated. “If it’s even mine. I’ve asked Ciara for a paternity test when it’s born.”

“So you thought you could drive up here in the middle of the night and, what . . . I’d jump into your arms and welcome you into my bed? Is that it?”

She backed into the cabinets as he closed the gap between them. Putting a hand on her forearms, he caressed down. “Come on, Ang. We were good together. Once you’re done here, you’ll be a partner. In a few years we can own that place and push the old dead weight out.”

She might actually need her own attorney because she was about to commit a violent crime. Teeth clenched, she drew in a breath.

“First of all, we were never good together. It just took me far longer than it should have to figure that out. Secondly, you had no business driving up here unannounced. I’ve got company.” She nodded to the tray loaded with a service for two.

Shock registered in his expression, then possessive anger, and his fingers tightened around her arms. “You’re not the country bumpkin type, Ang. He’s just a stand-in for me while you’re here, and you know it.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she put her hand up to cover her face and tried to push him away. Gabriel jerked on her arms.

“Ouch! Let go!”

“Third,” Blake said from the stairs, “take your hands off her, or you’ll have a hard time driving back to Albuquerque with two broken arms.”

Gabriel let go of Angelique and took a step back. The color drained from his face.

She rubbed at her stinging arms.

Wearing nothing but blue hospital scrubs slung low on his narrow hips, the Y of his toned abs appeared just above the cinched drawstring as he stood there, defending Angelique’s honor. Again. His muscled chest flexed, his hands clenched into fists, and Angelique’s heart did a dance.

Gabriel’s mouth mutated into a sneer as he turned back to Angelique “What do you think will happen to your partnership when the firm finds out you’re sleeping with the enemy?”

She swallowed, and her hand involuntarily fluttered to her chest. She
had
thought about it. Many times. And she’d known from the beginning that getting involved with Blake may not be illegal, but it was certainly professionally questionable. But she hadn’t been able to stop, because . . .

Her gaze locked on to Blake’s darkening blue eyes.

Because she was falling in love with him. This man that she couldn’t have. Couldn’t selfishly deprive of the family he wanted. He had so much love to give, and she couldn’t stand it if he grew to resent her for taking away his chance to have kids of his own someday.

Gabriel smirked. “Yeah, I did some checking.” Gabriel glanced at Blake. “Did you consider that he’s using you to help his own case?”

Angelique’s attention snapped back to Gabriel. His audacity, his accusation stabbed at the sliver of doubt that she’d been trying to ignore.

Unsure, she looked at Blake. Even if he was exploiting her feelings for him, he was still twice the man Gabriel would ever be. She’d seen proof of that at the clinic.

Gabriel turned beady eyes back to Angelique. “As soon as the case is over, he’ll toss you out like a pair of worn-out shoes.”

Blake growled.

Gabriel’s hatefulness severed her last thread of patience. She drew back and slapped him square on the cheek. He stumbled back, grabbing at the red handprint left on his face. Blake flew down the stairs and had Gabriel by the throat in just two long strides.

“You had your chance, and you fucked it up. Now she’s mine, and I’m not going to let you hurt her anymore.”

Gabriel clawed at Blake’s hands for release. “Call off your dog, Ang, or I’ll file charges on you both.”

“You’re the one who’s trespassing,” Blake seethed.

“This place is rented in the firm’s name, and I’m a partner. Technically, I have every right to be here.”

“Can I hit him now?” Blake asked Angelique through clenched teeth, and Gabriel’s eyes rounded.

“No, babe, he’s not worth bruising your knuckles. Let him go so he can slither back to the hole he crawled out of.”

Blake’s face relaxed, and he glanced at her like he was seeing her for the first time. His blue eyes caressed over her face, and she let her lips curve into a warm smile.

“He’s nothing to me, Blake,” she said as though Gabriel weren’t even in the room.

Blake let go of Gabriel with a push.

Gabriel stumbled back and then straightened. “I need the money and the files back, Angelique.”

Ah, no more Ang?
Good.

“If they’re not returned by the end of the week, I’ll have to go to the partners with this,” Gabriel said, smoothing his Ralph Lauren sweater. “Who do you think they’ll believe? An employee who is up here living large and sleeping with our rival? Or me—an invested partner who bills more hours than the other partners combined.”

Except me.
The last three years Angelique had billed more hours than anyone else at the firm, which put a partnership well within her grasp. Until she was diagnosed and had to take an extended medical leave. Until her ex decided to accuse her of corporate espionage and embezzlement. Until she endangered a relatively open-and-shut case by sleeping with the opposition.

She drew in a pained breath. Unfortunately, Gabriel was right. He was desperate, and she knew better than anyone that he’d do just about anything to save himself.

Blake growled. “Are you sure I can’t hit him?”

Without another word, Gabriel darted for the door.

“Give my regards to everyone at work,” Angelique called after him, but the door slammed shut before she could finish the sentence.