Alex’s thumb continued to rub over her hand while his fingers tightened around hers, and he moved to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss on the corner of her lips. “Okay. Just a little then.” Angel was left bemused when he released her suddenly and moved around her into the kitchen, leaving her flustered and confused.
“So… tell me.”
Her face twisted in consternation and amusement. “Tell you what?”
“Anything.” He shrugged and leaned casually against the counter near the refrigerator at the far end of the kitchen. “Everything.”
She moved about preparing the pasta, and trying to avoid his eyes. “Um, I’m thinking that this is not such a good idea. You’re… well, you’re you and I’m…”
His soft laughter filtered through the room. “Yes. Last night, I think that worked out quite well for both of us. I’m not asking you to lose your identity, Angel. Only share a meal and your thoughts.”
“Come on, Alex. We both know you don’t give a damn about my thoughts. But, if you must know, I’m considering that last night was a mistake.” She was chopping something on a hardwood board with her back to him. Alex didn’t like that he couldn’t see her face as she said the words. “I wanted to talk to you about it in person.”
“I do care about what you’re thinking. I’ve said it. Can you look at me?” His tone took on that of Alex Avery, CFO: man who commanded respect and one that didn’t like what he was hearing.
She threw something into a pot and the sizzling mixed with the rumbling and hissing of the water boiling in the other pot, and then turned to face him.
“Look—” she wiped her hands on a white towel and threw it aside carelessly, “—last night was nice.”
“Nice? Hmmm, not the adjective I’d use, but continue.”
“I guess I’m curious what you want from this?”
“I told you. A meal and your thoughts. I didn’t come here to seduce you or fuck you into submission.” His eyebrow quirked and a sexy grin split his handsome face. “That is what you think happened last night, right?”
She chuckled softly as she resumed cooking, unwilling to admit how much this man got under her skin. “Um, actually I sort of see it as the other way around.”
“Touché.” His grin widened. “So how about we agree that we won’t go there tonight. We’ll eat, talk—”
“Touch?”
“Only a little,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I’ve already made that commitment. When you know me better, you’ll realize I always keep my word.”
She bristled slightly, not sure if it was an implied promise to keep his distance or that he wanted to be closer. She poured the sauce over the pasta and picked up a block of cheese and began grating it over the top. “Hmmph,” she snorted, disappointed at the lack of contact that seemed to be her fate tonight. “That remains to be seen. Do you want it dressed?”
“I thought we agreed we liked things naked,” Alex teased.
“Yes, well, use your imagination,” she shot back without missing a beat, and Alex burst out laughing. She was so different, so refreshing, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from her face as she used the back of her hand to push a stray lock away from her face.
“Uh uh. No teasing, miss. I promised to be good, so play fair, please.”
This time it was Angel’s turn to laugh as her eyes widened in mock exaggeration. “What’s good for the goose…” she reminded as she plopped a well-laden plate filled with garlic-scented pasta and a light salad down in front of him. “And, stop fishing. You are good. Very good. So let’s just get that off the table right now, okay?”
Alex’s body reacted to her words and to her nearness… to the luscious memories from the night before as she took the seat to his left and the soft scent of her perfume wafted in his nostrils.
The light in her apartment was low and the soft jazz playing from somewhere in the living room echoed off the walls. Alex felt comfortable in an unsettling sort of way. His body reacted, but he felt at ease in Angel’s home. Talking with her was nice, and their easy bantering was completely stimulating in a number of ways. He chose to ignore her comments lest he give in to the need to reach out again, but his eyes stole glances at her as she offered him some bread.
“What?” she demanded when she caught him staring.
“Nothing. I’m not going to let you trick me into anything. Did you get your reports finished? Were the results what you’d hoped?”
Angel shook her head and shrugged almost imperceptibly. “I can’t really say.”
Alex’s brow dropped as he wound some pasta onto his fork. “It just seems dangerous, Angel. What made you choose to do this type of work?”
Angel’s eyes lifted to meet his and what she saw there was earnest concern. He truly wanted to know. “I wanted to help people who couldn’t help themselves, to become a voice for those without one.”
Something in her voice made Alex push. “Sounds like there’s more to it.”
“The pasta will get cold. We should eat,” she murmured, but Alex had already taken a bite.
“It’s delicious. Is gourmet cooking another of your many talents?”
“Hardly. Only the bare essentials. I’m surprised Dad and I survived. This is so easy, though. I make it a lot.” Angel was thankful he moved to another subject, praying silently that he wouldn’t revisit the previous one.
“So?” he persisted. “Why psychology?”
“Um.” Angel hesitated as she played with the food on her plate. She’d never discussed it with anyone other than Becca and not for years. “Well…”
A warm hand closed around hers and the heat traveled up her arm and infused her face.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but I really hope to know you better,” he said gently, his fingers brushing back and forth over her knuckles. “I want you to trust me. I get that I have to earn it.”
Something about this man caused an upheaval of her insides and all of her carefully laid plans to resist him came tumbling down. Suddenly, she found herself longing to open up, but what would his reaction be? Did she dare tell him?
“Well, my freshman year at Northwestern, someone was… well, she was assaulted at a frat party and it… changed me.”
Alex’s fingers were still around Angel’s hand as he replaced his wine glass by his plate and turned his full attention on her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was it Becca?”
“Mmmm, uh uh.” She shook her head, and then stopped, eyes flashing up to his. His face was concerned, interested, focused.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
“We were at a party, we had drinks, and someone drugged her.” Angel looked away quickly. “She was raped.”
Alex ran the back of his fingers across her wrist. “Oh, my God. I see.”
His touch was comforting and his company wrapped around her like her favorite quilt.
Angel shook her head again as she regained her senses. “She was too scared to call the police, afraid that her friends and family would be ashamed of her, afraid they’d think it was her fault. So, I wanted to be in a position to put bastards like that behind bars, or help anyway, with situations like that.”
Alex nodded silently and reached out to brush her cheek the same way he had her wrist. It was so gentle and surprising. She wondered if he understood.
“Alex, tell me more about your parents and sister. You only talked about your brother last evening.”
It was clear to him that she wanted the subject changed and he sensed she was hedging. Some nondescript emotion flitted over her delicate features and it pained him. He quickly cleared his throat. “My father is a brilliant businessman, and my mother is a beautiful, caring woman. She and my sister, Allison, do a lot of philanthropic work when they’re not messing in my personal life.” He chuckled softly as he continued to enjoy his meal. “Which is often.”