A Man Like Him. Rachel Brimble

A Man Like Him - Rachel  Brimble


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      “What are you talking about? What vultures?”

      “Can’t you see?” He shot his arm toward the sky as frustration hummed along his nerve endings. “They’re TV helicopters. A fat lot of bloody help—”

      “TV cameras? Oh, my God.”

      Chris turned. Her face grew ashen and she swayed back on her heels, her eyes wide with terror. She gripped his forearm. “Help me. Don’t let them see me. You have to do something.”

      “What? What are you talking about?”

      “Chris, please. Help me.”

      Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms and she buried her face into his chest. He brought one hand to the back of her head, the other to the small of her back and pulled her close. She fit the contours of his body like she was meant to be there.

      He held her tight. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

      She shook her head against his chest. “It’s over. It’s all over.”

      The helicopters circled one more time and then flew away, disappearing over the horizon once more. “They’ve gone. Angela? Look at me. What is it?”

      She pulled back and tears slipped over her lower lids and down her cheeks. “I’m dead. He’s coming. He’s coming and this time he’ll kill me.”

      He gripped her forearms, adrenaline filling his blood on a protective wave. “Who will? What are you talking about?”

      She closed her eyes. “My husband.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      “YOUR HUSBAND? YOU’RE MARRIED?”

      Angela stared at Chris’s shocked face and shook her head. “No.”

      “Divorced?”

      She nodded, unexpected tears burning her eyes. “Yes.”

      His hands slipped from her arms and she crossed them against her shaking body.

      “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

      He frowned, his gaze intense on hers. “Why would you say he’ll kill you? Are you serious?”

      Angela’s heart beat faster. What had she done? For two years she’d kept her past a secret, kept her fears locked inside a box deep in her heart. A constant reminder never to let her guard down. Never forget Robert’s promise to find her, hurt her, make her his again but this time without the chance of escape. She turned away from Chris’s hazel stare as panic clawed at her insides.

      How could she have been so stupid to tell him? How could she have been so naive not to realize TV cameras would arrive? The media were the enemy. The police, the traitors. Hadn’t she learned anything through their broken promises and false assurances? Her stupid, blind pull to this...this stranger meant she’d let the thrill of him lower her defenses and now she was wide-open to God only knew what. Nausea rose in her throat and she clutched her hand there. “It’s all right. I haven’t heard from him in a long time. Everything will be okay.”

      “Well, everything is clearly not okay right now.”

      Angela turned from his turbulent gaze. “I haven’t heard anything from him for almost two years. I’m just spooked. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Go away. Leave me alone.

      “You can’t say something like that and expect me not to react...it’s out there now. It’s in my head.”

      “Please. Just leave it.” Panic lashed out and caught like a hook in her chest. She needed him away from her. Away from her situation. “It’s the shock of the flood, the heat. It’s making me a little crazy, I guess. He won’t come here.”

      Please walk away. Please don’t care. Pretend you never met me. Please.

      Chris’s gaze bore into her temple, but she concentrated on mustering a calm expression. He had to believe her. If Robert saw her picture, he’d be at the Cove before the next day’s paper was printed. What was she supposed to do? Go home and pack? Move away? A warm tear slipped onto her cheek and Angela swiped at it with her fingers.

      The silence beat between her and Chris and she drew in a long breath before she turned and met him square in the eyes. “I don’t need your help. I’ve got this, okay?”

      He shook his head. “Don’t tell me that. You’re shaking. If you’re in some kind of danger—”

      She lifted an eyebrow. Irritation and defensiveness burst into her bloodstream. “What? You’ll swoop in and save me? I don’t think so.”

      She didn’t want to be nasty. The man had saved her life. The man was built. The man was kind. Yet her coldness was necessary. She had to do something to deflect his interest...and the damn heart-melting concern in his eyes. Men were manipulators. Manipulators who blinded and charmed a girl—making her fall head over heels in love, only to have him rip out her heart and shove it down her throat.

      She didn’t know Chris Forrester. She certainly couldn’t trust him.

      He continued to stare. “Nice try.”

      His face blurred in her vision and Angela blinked hard. “I mean it. I don’t need your help.”

      His gaze locked on hers for a moment longer before he raised his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

      Sadness dropped into her stomach. Despite her history, her fear, she sensed Chris was a nicer guy than most and she’d just pushed his goodness back in his face like it counted for nothing. It counted for so much. She hadn’t seen so much concern for her in a man’s eyes for as long as she could remember. Did he truly care? Why, though? Maybe he wanted something from her. Her paranoia from the previous day surged back into her mind. Maybe he did know Robert after all.

      Suspicion rose raw and ugly in her conscience and her weakening defenses slammed back into place. She whirled around to face the men gathered around the stockroom. “Let’s concentrate on getting these people fed and watered before anarchy breaks out, shall we?”

      A couple of seconds passed before he brushed past her. Angela stiffened. His face was stony and his wide shoulders tense. He didn’t deserve her dismissal but that’s exactly why she’d slammed down the hatches. If he knew Robert, she was in all sorts of trouble. If he didn’t...God only knew what a man like Chris would do about her violent ex-husband.

      He’d already proven his bravery, his ease at stepping forward and doing what had to be done in any given situation. Who was to say dealing with Robert would be any harder for him? Angela closed her eyes. Who the hell did she think she was? Why would he get involved? Why on earth would he give her another thought once they were off this roof?

      She was nobody to him. She’d made herself nobody to everyone for a very long time. It was her problem. She’d started to believe she could build a life in Templeton. Maybe start having a friend or two, the odd night out in good company. But that didn’t give her the right to dream she was important enough for Chris Forrester to have a genuine concern for her.

      You’re insignificant. Unimportant. Ugly.

      Drawing in a shaky breath, Angela stepped forward and planted a wide smile on her face before Robert’s words could gather momentum inside her mind. “Okay, everyone. Let’s get started.”

      She surreptitiously searched for Chris. He’d disappeared. Disappointment flooded her veins, making her heart ache. He was undoubtedly getting as far away as possible from her and her damn distrust of everyone and everything. She didn’t blame him. She’d avoid being close to herself, too, if she could.

      Angela clapped her hands and the waiting men turned. “Okay, let’s do this. Lower me back down there. We need to get the stuff out of the stockroom as soon as possible. This heat is only going to rise and we don’t want that food wasted.”

      One


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