chest, simply glowing, just enjoying the sound of his deep breathing, feeling the happiest she’d ever felt in her nineteen short years. As silly as it was she loved his very hairy chest and his scent, a mixture of the fresh outdoors, leather and just the delicious smell of his golden skin. It made her knees weak. He was so virile, so manly, so unlike pathetic Edward, who carried the strangely sickening scent of mothballs.
Angelica rested peacefully with her head on Cash’s chest. She was immediately drawn to the deep scar that ran across his jaw and she had an uncontrollable need to gently caress Cash’s face in that exact spot – an area that she noticed that he tried to hide when he could. Cash flinched involuntarily at her touch.
“ How did you get this scar?” Angelica asked sweetly, as she caressed it lightly.
“ Oh that was Edward. We didn’t exactly get along when we were kids. He was the golden boy and we used to fight a lot. My ancestry is a bit of a mystery even to me, but Edward, with his blonde hair was always the pride and joy. Got everything he wanted. And it didn’t exactly sit well with me at times. He was so sickly but he used it to manipulate everyone. I’ve always lived by my own rules, “Cash replied in a sad voice. “It’s not important.” Cash’s tone now was casual but the hurt deep in his eyes belied the nonchalance in his voice.
Cash could not offer Angelica everything that he believed she deserved. He didn’t exactly have much money, but he always, always did an honest days work. He tried to live a decent life by his principles. The way he used women for his own narcissistic pleasure may have tarnished his halo more than a little bit, but he tried to do good by himself, unlike Edward who manipulated everyone and only relied on his money to buy his way out of his problems. Cash was a good man who may not have fit in everywhere because of his history. In all honesty Cash had no regrets about the way he lived other than the fact that he felt he didn’t really deserve Angelica. But he would take what precious moments he could with her before she went back to Edward.
Chapter 9
“ I’m going riding tomorrow – come with me.” Cash knocked on the paper thin wall over the bed, leaned over to give Angelica one final kiss, and said, “If you need anything, Angel, whisper to me in the dark.”
Cash lay in bed for hours, reliving the sweet taste of her lips. It was the only way he could have her. He’d let her marry Edward. Letting her lose her future standing in polite society was not something he'd let himself be responsible for. But Angelica was his. And only his. She belonged to him and he would not give her up for anything – or anyone.
***
Whenever Angelica was stressed she’d write a letter to her sister, whom she hadn’t seen in decades, but missed so. She could write out her feelings even though she knew not where to mail them. Try to organize all of the tumultuous thoughts spinning around her head. The letters were filled with such intimate details of her life she’d never dare send them even if she knew where she was, but it always made her feel that link to her past – gave her comfort – the stability that she craved so.
Dear Sissy:
He leaned casually against the rough hewn wood of the rickety fence, his leg bent, so his cowboy boot rested against the bottom of the swinging door, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. So above it all. Like what he did to me last night was nothing. That I owed it to him just because he was a man. So sure of himself. That any woman that shared his bed belonged to him. I tried to hate him. I tried to - so hard. But I can’t get the thought of him out of my head. The feel of him. Why do I get shivers from the slightest touch of his hands on my skin? What is wrong with me? Why do I burn at the touch of his fingers? Why am I so helpless when he grabs my arms and won’t let me go? All I do is ache to
Angelica rested peacefully with her head on Cash’s chest. She was immediately drawn to the deep scar that ran across his jaw and she had an uncontrollable need to gently caress Cash’s face in that exact spot – an area that she noticed that he tried to hide when he could. Cash flinched involuntarily at her touch.
“ How did you get this scar?” Angelica asked sweetly, as she caressed it lightly.
“ Oh that was Edward. We didn’t exactly get along when we were kids. He was the golden boy and we used to fight a lot. My ancestry is a bit of a mystery even to me, but Edward, with his blonde hair was always the pride and joy. Got everything he wanted. And it didn’t exactly sit well with me at times. He was so sickly but he used it to manipulate everyone. I’ve always lived by my own rules, “Cash replied in a sad voice. “It’s not important.” Cash’s tone now was casual but the hurt deep in his eyes belied the nonchalance in his voice.
Cash could not offer Angelica everything that he believed she deserved. He didn’t exactly have much money, but he always, always did an honest days work. He tried to live a decent life by his principles. The way he used women for his own narcissistic pleasure may have tarnished his halo more than a little bit, but he tried to do good by himself, unlike Edward who manipulated everyone and only relied on his money to buy his way out of his problems. Cash was a good man who may not have fit in everywhere because of his history. In all honesty Cash had no regrets about the way he lived other than the fact that he felt he didn’t really deserve Angelica. But he would take what precious moments he could with her before she went back to Edward.
Chapter 9
“ I’m going riding tomorrow – come with me.” Cash knocked on the paper thin wall over the bed, leaned over to give Angelica one final kiss, and said, “If you need anything, Angel, whisper to me in the dark.”
Cash lay in bed for hours, reliving the sweet taste of her lips. It was the only way he could have her. He’d let her marry Edward. Letting her lose her future standing in polite society was not something he'd let himself be responsible for. But Angelica was his. And only his. She belonged to him and he would not give her up for anything – or anyone.
***
Whenever Angelica was stressed she’d write a letter to her sister, whom she hadn’t seen in decades, but missed so. She could write out her feelings even though she knew not where to mail them. Try to organize all of the tumultuous thoughts spinning around her head. The letters were filled with such intimate details of her life she’d never dare send them even if she knew where she was, but it always made her feel that link to her past – gave her comfort – the stability that she craved so.
Dear Sissy:
He leaned casually against the rough hewn wood of the rickety fence, his leg bent, so his cowboy boot rested against the bottom of the swinging door, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. So above it all. Like what he did to me last night was nothing. That I owed it to him just because he was a man. So sure of himself. That any woman that shared his bed belonged to him. I tried to hate him. I tried to - so hard. But I can’t get the thought of him out of my head. The feel of him. Why do I get shivers from the slightest touch of his hands on my skin? What is wrong with me? Why do I burn at the touch of his fingers? Why am I so helpless when he grabs my arms and won’t let me go? All I do is ache to
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