Angelique by Dixie Lynn Dwyer Page B

came across.
    “Can you please pass me my tank top so I can use a bathroom?” she asked.
    Armand walked over to the chair and grabbed her top then walked back.
    “Help you with that?” he asked. She shook her head, and he handed it to her. Their fingers touched, and she felt that tingling sensation again. Apparently he did as well, as he smiled.
    “Bathroom is that way.” Armand pointed down the small hall. As she stood up, she refused to look at Eloi. She could practically feel his heated stare on her. She wondered how far he would let her get.
    Angelique thanked Marcel, who accompanied her down the hallway, and waited for him to walk back toward the main area of the trailer. Once he was out of sight, she ducked into the bathroom and released a long breath she hadn’t even known she was holding.
    She washed cold water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair. She was shocked at how rosy her cheeks were and how bright her eyes looked. She was aroused, and damn it, if she could see the lust in her own eyes, what did the men see?
    She took care of her business, freshened up after checking out her cut, and readjusted her bra. They did a good job removing the splinters. By the looks of how many thin red lines there were on her skin, there had been at least eight splinters. She would have to be sure and add more ointment to the area tonight after her shower. The tank had sticky blood on it, but at least it was a dark olive green and didn’t stand out too badly. She had a change of clothes in her car anyway. She was hoping to stop into town to grab a few things before she headed home. Including those beads from Maw Maw.
    Taking another deep breath, she prepared herself to face the men. She wasn’t sure how she would find them but hoped they weren’t ready to attack.
    As she walked down the hall and entered the room, she noticed that only Remy and Marcel were there. Where had Eloi and Armand gone off to? As if reading her thoughts, Remy patted the stool next to his and smiled.
    “Sit here, sugar. Armand and Eloi took their lunch with them. They have a report to fill out and some investigating to do.”
    She made her way toward him and had to pass Marcel, who sat on a chair near the end of the counter. She shyly looked away, and in that second, Marcel took her hand and gently pulled her against him and between his legs where he sat on the stool.
    He placed his hands on her hips and held her gaze.
    “Eloi would never hurt you. None of us would,” he told her with his hands firm against her hip bones. She could feel his thumbs gently rub against the material covering her skin.
    She inhaled his scent, a mix of cologne, spackle, and soap. He was even better looking close up, and she noticed he shared the same facial features as Remy and Armand, except Armand was a bit thinner, even in his cheeks where Marcel had a muscular shape to his face.
    “I don’t need trouble, and I don’t know any of you.”
    Marcel placed his hand against her cheek and caressed her lower lip with his thumb.
    “Planning on changing that,” he told her then leaned forward as if he were going to kiss her. Part of her wanted him to, but part of her knew it wouldn’t be right. She had just kissed Armand. She placed her hands on his shoulders to stop him.
    “Please don’t do this. Your brother just kissed me a little while ago. It wouldn’t be right.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong, sugar. We all want to get to know you,” Remy stated then took a bite from his sandwich. She was shocked, and Marcel smiled at Remy’s comment.
    “He’s right, and we’re all planning on knowing you good. Now get something to eat, we’ve got work to do,” Marcel turned her around and tapped her on her rear as she hurried to her seat between them.
    Her whole body was on fire from the way these men spoke to her and touched her. She especially felt curious about the getting-to-know-each-of-them thing. What exactly were they talking about? She wondered