My Angel (11 page)

His words and their meaning swept through her. The mistress of his heart, yes, she thought. She would be the mistress of his heart, his soul mate.

"I would hope, my angel, I would be her heart's desire, too. Would I?"

She melted against him, her knees weak with pleasure, her spirits soaring higher than the clouds. Yet she recovered enough to realize she needed a small measure of sanity to deal with him. She must regain a few seconds of control or else he would surely have her behaving just as he wished.

"You're arrogant," she breathed softly.

"In the Popov men, arrogance is inbred. A most annoying habit if I do say so myself. If you like, I can try not to show that very infuriating side of my personality, but I will make no promises. There are some traits a man cannot hide no matter how hard he tries."

She could not think, could barely breathe. He pulled away from her and stared at her. Almost reverently he lowered her bodice, her breast now free of restraint and brushing against his callused fingertips. Second thoughts swept through her. Unsure of her feelings for Devil yet still driven by the heat of his touch, she thought to cover herself. He held her hands.

His dark brown eyes were wide with desire, his muscles flexing beneath her fingers. In the shadows of the dimly lit room, he looked dark and powerful, a warlord from ancient days, large and incomparable.

"Do you want me?" he asked.

She nodded her head, her fingers closing around his arms.

"You haven't chosen a partner for tonight?'' he asked softly, his voice husky with desire. "Tell me your name, sweet, sweet angel."

She swallowed once before she said, "Angela."

"Angela what?" he asked, a smile on his lips, his eyes twinkling with approval.

"Just Angela..." She didn't want to ruin this moment. To tell him her last name might change their lives forever. She could well imagine what he'd do if he discovered her surname. He was seducing a Chamberlain. Only a man with a death wish would carry on so. And she did want to be seduced by Devil.

Her father would never find out, she decided.

"Do you have a partner for this evening?" he asked again. "If you do, I want you to tell him that you've chosen another. I don't want you with any other man. Where is your room?" he asked, low and hushed.

Sudden clarity hit her, and with it a realization of what she was about to do. Indecision overwhelmed her. "I can't," she said, alarmed by the prospect of giving herself to this man, yet wanting to surrender completely.

Her fingers were clenched tightly around his arms, and she was determined to hold him off until she was ready. The heat of embarrassment rose from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. Even while she wallowed in denial, she knew he could persuade her to share his bed. That was, after all, what she wanted. Wasn't it?

She was unsure of herself, wanting him desperately one minute, afraid to make the commitment the next. She didn't know why she'd said no.

"You have time before the festivities..." he murmured, the sentence rife with meaning. "For me. Give yourself over to my hands, Angel. Kiss me."

"No, please," Angela breathed, but the
no
was so soft, she didn't believe it herself. Her
please
was more a plea than a refusal. And he thought she was a practiced whore, well versed in the subtle game of love. Lottie had told her that lovemaking withheld for a short time could sometimes be more gratifying, but that wasn't her intent. Now that the time was here she was deathly afraid.

Alexi, his smile having vanished with the words /
can't,
reached for her. She didn't move, only watched his arms come out to touch her. His hands gently closed on her shoulders, and she shuddered helplessly in a quiet alcove surrounded by raucous celebration. Their breathing seemed to be part of the music and the laughter, her heart pounding with the tempo.

With intoxicating deliberation he drew her near. The scent of danger mingled with the fragrance of unleashed power permeating Alexi's clothes as the distance between them closed, her body unresisting beneath his hands, her face unconsciously lifting for his kiss.

"Yes," he said, and touched her lips. "Say yes and I'll be a man well satisfied."

The softness of his voice robbed her of conscious thought. When she was with him, she couldn't think. When he touched her, she melted.

It was a chaste, butterfly-light kiss for only one scant moment then Angela stroked his shoulders, her caresses becoming increasingly bold. His hands slid down to her hips, and he pulled her fiercely close. Unrepentantly, she ignored her better judgment, intent on tasting the hot boldness of his mouth, welcoming the thorough invasion of his tongue between her parted lips.

Angela lost herself in his strength and power, moving against his body in a sensual dance until every part of her melted into
his hard-muscled frame. Only short seconds later, in an agitated state, his mouth lifted from hers abruptly, as though his patience had a measurable limit that had just expired.

"Where?" he asked, his voice curt and urgent, his mouth drifting languidly across her collarbone. "Where can we go?"

Startled by the potency of his touch, she cried out softly.

Her cry joined another. "Angela... where have you gotten to? I've been waiting forever. Angela!"

Devil stopped suddenly, as if she'd struck him. Roughly, he pulled the bodice of her gown up so the material covered her as modestly as possible. "Later," he said, promise in his voice. "We'll finish this later."

She watched him blend into the shadows of the alcove just as Velvet walked by. Angela felt as if she'd been used very well, and by the look in Velvet's eye, the madam didn't miss the hard evidence in front of her.

"Well, I'm glad to see you haven't wasted any time. Fifty percent goes in the fund. Make sure you record what he paid you." Velvet's voice was stern, and Angela prayed the madam couldn't see through her schooled emotions into her heart.

"Put the water in Emma's room then go to
Lawrence
. I believe he'd like to uncover as many of your charms as your hidden lover has just seen. He'll use you well and pay you handsomely. It's an initiation of sorts--or you could look at it as a test. Either way, do your best to satisfy him." Velvet stood back, giving Angela room to pass by and perhaps watching to see if she'd go to
Lawrence
afterward. She wasn't about to. The thought of
Lawrence
's hands upon her sickened her. Her hand touched the knife strapped to her thigh. She would use it if Stevens tried to force her.

~ * ~

Devil watched Angela move down the hall to Emma's room, helpless to stop her and wondering if she'd show up in Lawrence's suite ready and willing for sexual games.

Now that he'd laid claim to her, she'd better not. He didn't share what he considered his. And after this afternoon, Angela
was indeed his. True, he'd had to look twice to recognize his angel. Kohl-rimmed eyes and painted lips had kept him wondering for more than a few minutes. It had taken him almost an hour to reconcile the wild, untamed hellion flying recklessly on her horse along the prairie with the prostitute in Madame leBon's house of ill repute.

He instantly liked all he saw. Her breasts pushed provocatively from a low-cut bodice of exquisite red silk. He remembered exactly how they looked and felt. They were lush, rounded globes, just the right size to fit his hands. Perfect rose-colored nipples tipped them. And he remembered the way her lips tasted. He'd also decided that after this night, no other man was going to view her beautiful feminine charms.

The high cut of the gown nonetheless left him straining to see more of her shapely legs and slim, narrow ankles. Her hips flared enticingly to a hand-span waist--

Velvet interrupted his carnal thoughts.

"You are such a devil," she purred, her delicate fingers resting on his shoulder. "You find my newest girl and practically ravish her in front of everyone who passes by." She was stroking Devil's arm, "You know
Lawrence
gets them first."

Angela had stopped halfway to Emma's room. "Angela, go on, see to Emma. Make sure she's ready." There was a long pause. Then, "Go on..."

Velvet's strident voice irritated Alexi. He wanted the auction to be over. He had other plans for his sweet Angela. He meant to make her his mistress and, if he could convince her, take her with him tonight when he left for the old country.

Devil looked past Velvet to Angela. She looked furious, a spitting hellcat came to mind. Ah, yes, with Angela in his bed his nights would be filled with passion and excitement.

Through the fabric of his pants, the madam touched his arousal. He jerked back, his fists clenched, ready to retaliate. He'd never before been so primed and on edge or furious with a woman. Velvet laughed, a deep, throaty sound that grated on Devil's nerves.

"She didn't give you what you needed. If you come with
me, we can finish what she started." Velvet's hands moved swiftly and expertly on the buttons of his pants.

"No," he said, his fingers closing around her wrist in a dangerous threat, his voice cold and hollow.

She hissed but let go. Her chin tilted upward in a silent threat of her own, her bright red lips drawn back in a sneer. "So it's to be that way?" She moved closer to him. "I hear you're a man of
many
pleasures."

He put her aside, and, refastening his pants, he stepped from the alcove. "You heard wrong."