Fallen Angels. Lori Foster
the man, other than in the most superficial ways; she’d merely been attracted to his image. But now she genuinely liked and respected him. When she could set the past aside, he was fun, and when he held Grayson, the affection in his eyes filled her with an insidious warmth that expanded her heart. More often than not, she didn’t understand what she was feeling.
Only one thing was certain: Grayson could be at risk if she didn’t find some sort of protection.
She got up to serve the tea, collecting her thoughts. After she set his cup near him on the table, she said, “I’ve gotten several anonymous calls lately, more than ever before. Usually, it’s just breathing and such. They started before I’d moved, when I lived in my old apartment. After I moved here, they stopped for a while and I thought I’d lost whoever it was. But just recently they started up again. It’s possible my phone number was taken from one of the posted ads around the colleges. The ads are generic, offering typing, but since I’ve been transcribing for colleges ever since the accident, it could be my number was relocated that way.”
Derek nodded. “Very possible, I suppose. But the person making the calls would have to be damn determined.”
Angel shivered. “He spoke for the first time today. He said, very clearly, that I couldn’t hide. He called me a few…choice names and told me to give him what he wanted.”
She saw Derek’s jaw go hard and knew he was clenching his teeth. He stared at her and she shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what he wants. I wish I did.”
“Go on.”
“I also got a letter in my mailbox.”
“Where is it?”
She pulled an envelope from the basket on top of her refrigerator and handed it to Derek. The letter was now wrinkled from her many hours of examining it, but Derek had no trouble making out the typed message. “I’ve found you,” he read aloud. He was silent for a long time, his face dark, his expression tight. He threw the letter on the table and turned on her.
“You thought I was behind this?” he asked, his teeth clenched, color high on his face. “You thought I would resort to sneaking around and stuffing threatening letters in a woman’s mailbox, in your mailbox?”
His reaction was genuine and for the first time she felt absolutely positive that he played no part in the harassment.
A little truth now certainly wouldn’t hurt. Problem was, as she tried to give it, tears gathered in her eyes, and she couldn’t quite work up the nerve to accuse his family, the most likely of suspects. Not yet.
She shook her head. “No,” she said, trying to sound sure of herself. “I don’t really think you’re behind it. But the letter came after I contacted you. Before that, all I’d gotten was phone calls. And you noticed the fake name on my mailbox that day. Now tonight, you showed up right after the call, and it was the first time he’d ever spoken to me. That’s a lot of coincidences.” She searched his face, hoping he’d understand. “I had to consider you, Derek. I couldn’t take any chances with Grayson’s safety.”
Seconds ticked by, then he reluctantly nodded.
She drew a deep breath of relief. “The whole reason I contacted you again, the only reason I introduced Grayson to you is because deep down, for some incredibly insane reason, I guess I still trust you. Even after everything that happened, I thought…I thought you would help. I hoped you would help.”
She swallowed, the sound audible, almost choked. “Derek…I’ve been so scared, and I don’t have anyone else to go to.”
A stunned moment of silence fell between them. She could feel the waves of emotion emanating from him, anger and regret and need. Then she was in his arms and it felt so good, so right, she curled closer and snuggled tighter, trying to fit herself completely against his long, hard length. His arms wrapped around her, urgently, almost violently, while his mouth nuzzled down her face, giving her small anxious biting kisses until finally he reached her lips and then he was devouring her and she was glad, so very, very glad.
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