her, would protect her if necessary, she strode up the long flight of stairs to Emma's room. She wanted to see to Emma then Devil, but not in that order.
Devil had some hard and fast explanations to give her. Despite what he'd done to Emma, Angela would forgive him if he said the right words. Lord, but she didn't know what to think of Devil Blackmoor.
"Angel..." Devil whispered, stepping quickly from the shadowed alcove he'd been standing in and taking the pitcher from her hands. "May I help?" he asked his grin almost as broad as his shoulders.
She moved back, her smile of greeting wavering. "You," she said, suddenly shy and very breathless, her heart in her throat. She hadn't really expected him to pop out of nowhere.
"Alexi." His voice was resonating and warm. "I wish for you to call me Alexi," he said, his lips twitching at something humorous she didn't understand. " 'You' seems too impersonal for what I have in mind." His voice seduced, calmed and soothed all at the same time.
Cocking her head in thought, she remembered the only name she'd known him by, Devil Blackmoor. She liked the name Alexi, and she liked the way he watched her, almost admiringly.
His gaze on her lips, he stepped forward, so close she felt the warmth of him, and the power of him. Her entire body flushed and heated with anticipation, and the memory of his hands upon her made her tremble.
She wanted him closer to her, needed to be alone with him for at least a few cherished seconds before seeing to Emma. Angela squared her shoulders, her breasts rising to overflow the bodice, the pink color of her nipples almost showing.
Shyly, she placed a hand there to hide herself then decided against it. If she were to win this man for herself, it wouldn't be by hiding. With a practiced, seductive grace Lottie had drilled into her for two days now, she put her hands behind her back and stepped into the alcove so her back was against the smooth wood paneling. The movement accentuated her breasts, thrusting them upward and almost out of the flimsy material holding them.
Wanton came to mind. A fleeting glimpse of her parents' disapproving faces slipped through the clouds in her head, only to vanish. She wanted this man, and if she had to be reckless to get him, she would. Lottie had told her exactly how to go about capturing the heart of a man like Devil Blackmoor.
If he pulled the drapes, he could make love to her right here in the alcove and no one would be the wiser. She focused on the gold brocaded seat that was obviously put there with carnal delights in mind.
She moistened her lips and watched him, knowing she wanted him, somehow understanding he was meant for her and she for him.
He leaned, one hand on the wall, the other rising to touch her lips. His finger brushed against her in a butterfly touch, a fleeting caress that made her want to beg for more. Parts of her body swelled and tightened in response to him. She ached in dark, feminine places deep inside her.
Pure bliss was what she felt.
Being near him almost satisfied her needs, and she longed to discover more. He peered down at her breasts, then back at her lips. Where his eyes caressed her, she wanted him to touch her.
"I've been looking all over Denver for you, but I never thought to find you here," he said, his voice soft and filled with concern.
His finger feathered across her chin, down the column of her throat. Hot, unstoppable shivers spiraled through her, overwhelming her. Once more she moistened her lips. She wanted to pull him to her, to circle him with her arms and hold him close against her.
When his words registered, she sucked in her breath. "You mean in a whorehouse?" she asked, puzzled and at the same time angered by his assumptions and suddenly on the defensive. In an indefinable way she'd come to respect Lottie, and some of the other girls, too. "Do you have something against women who have to work to
Devil had some hard and fast explanations to give her. Despite what he'd done to Emma, Angela would forgive him if he said the right words. Lord, but she didn't know what to think of Devil Blackmoor.
"Angel..." Devil whispered, stepping quickly from the shadowed alcove he'd been standing in and taking the pitcher from her hands. "May I help?" he asked his grin almost as broad as his shoulders.
She moved back, her smile of greeting wavering. "You," she said, suddenly shy and very breathless, her heart in her throat. She hadn't really expected him to pop out of nowhere.
"Alexi." His voice was resonating and warm. "I wish for you to call me Alexi," he said, his lips twitching at something humorous she didn't understand. " 'You' seems too impersonal for what I have in mind." His voice seduced, calmed and soothed all at the same time.
Cocking her head in thought, she remembered the only name she'd known him by, Devil Blackmoor. She liked the name Alexi, and she liked the way he watched her, almost admiringly.
His gaze on her lips, he stepped forward, so close she felt the warmth of him, and the power of him. Her entire body flushed and heated with anticipation, and the memory of his hands upon her made her tremble.
She wanted him closer to her, needed to be alone with him for at least a few cherished seconds before seeing to Emma. Angela squared her shoulders, her breasts rising to overflow the bodice, the pink color of her nipples almost showing.
Shyly, she placed a hand there to hide herself then decided against it. If she were to win this man for herself, it wouldn't be by hiding. With a practiced, seductive grace Lottie had drilled into her for two days now, she put her hands behind her back and stepped into the alcove so her back was against the smooth wood paneling. The movement accentuated her breasts, thrusting them upward and almost out of the flimsy material holding them.
Wanton came to mind. A fleeting glimpse of her parents' disapproving faces slipped through the clouds in her head, only to vanish. She wanted this man, and if she had to be reckless to get him, she would. Lottie had told her exactly how to go about capturing the heart of a man like Devil Blackmoor.
If he pulled the drapes, he could make love to her right here in the alcove and no one would be the wiser. She focused on the gold brocaded seat that was obviously put there with carnal delights in mind.
She moistened her lips and watched him, knowing she wanted him, somehow understanding he was meant for her and she for him.
He leaned, one hand on the wall, the other rising to touch her lips. His finger brushed against her in a butterfly touch, a fleeting caress that made her want to beg for more. Parts of her body swelled and tightened in response to him. She ached in dark, feminine places deep inside her.
Pure bliss was what she felt.
Being near him almost satisfied her needs, and she longed to discover more. He peered down at her breasts, then back at her lips. Where his eyes caressed her, she wanted him to touch her.
"I've been looking all over Denver for you, but I never thought to find you here," he said, his voice soft and filled with concern.
His finger feathered across her chin, down the column of her throat. Hot, unstoppable shivers spiraled through her, overwhelming her. Once more she moistened her lips. She wanted to pull him to her, to circle him with her arms and hold him close against her.
When his words registered, she sucked in her breath. "You mean in a whorehouse?" she asked, puzzled and at the same time angered by his assumptions and suddenly on the defensive. In an indefinable way she'd come to respect Lottie, and some of the other girls, too. "Do you have something against women who have to work to
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