He hugged her close. “I hope.”
“Who knew two little words could be so profound?” Sonya said to Angel. “Mark died three days later. I mean…he was killed three days later.”
Angel placed another hot kiss on her shoulder, but this time it was meant to soothe, not titillate. In a way, Sonya was soothed. Maybe because, for the first time, she was able to talk about the worst day of her life without breaking down into a heap of tears and snot and choking cries. Maybe because, for the first time, a future without Mark didn’t seem so bleak and pointless.
There was a small ray of light at the end of her tunnel now. It had a name. Angel. And, like Mark, the way she felt could be summed up with two small yet profound words. I hope…
“The bomber found out Mark was hot on his trail,” she explained. “The guy said he was scared if Mark caught up with him, he’d kill him. So he agreed to give himself up. He arranged with Mark a time and place to turn himself in.” Her heart was a stone in her chest, heavy and sad with the memory. “But that was bologna. The bomber had no intention of turning himself in. When Mark met him down by the banks of the Seine on the outskirts of Paris, he shot Mark through the heart, then put a bullet through his own brain. His final act of terrorism.” Squeezing her eyes closed, the awfulness of that long-ago day cut into her like the rusty teeth of a chain saw. “I saw it all.”
Angel stiffened behind her. “What do you mean? You saw CCTV footage afterward?”
“No.” She dragged in a deep breath, letting his spicy aftershave give her the courage to continue. “I followed Mark the morning he was supposed to meet with the bomber.”
“Good God, Sonya. No.”
“He was working alone. He didn’t have any backup. I thought I should go in case…” She shook her head at her younger self. “But I was helpless to do anything. I was across the river when I saw the bomber pull his gun. All I could do was scream Mark’s name before he was gone and falling into the water. His heart, that heart that loved me, had been blown to smithereens.”
She thought she trembled with the devastation of the memory, but then she realized it wasn’t her. It was Angel. He was the one shaking.
Alarmed, she turned to see his face contorted in a horrible grimace. His eyes were screwed shut. A muscle ticked frantically in his jaw.
“Angel?” Fear had her voice sounding small. “What is it?”
He shook his head, but after a couple of seconds, he focused those sniper eyes on her. His expression was fierce with some sort of emotion. She couldn’t say which one. “He would not have wanted you to see that.”
“I know.” She snuggled closer to him, tucking her head under his chin, loving how strands of her hair got stuck in his thick beard stubble. “I shouldn’t have gone. And yet…” She fiddled with his chest hair. “There’s a part of me that’s always been glad I was there. No matter how awful it was, no matter how many nightmares I’ve had, at least Mark wasn’t alone in those last few minutes. I was with him, even if he didn’t know it. There’s some comfort in that.”
Angel’s beefy arms clamped down on her so hard she could barely breathe. And then she was flat on her back, his big body pinning her to the mat, his mouth hot and hungry as it ravaged hers.
His kiss felt a little like punishment, a little like penance. But whatever the emotion behind it, she’d take it.
No one kissed like Angel…
Chapter 23
Angel’s heart was an open wound.
He’d never meant for Sonya to follow him that day. Never meant for her to witness the moment Mark Risa ceased to be.
The thought of it was awful. Too awful to fully contemplate. So he did the only thing he could. He poured his hurt and his guilt and his open wound of a heart into her with hard, hot kisses.
He loved her so much!
Always had. Always would.
It killed him to know how much he’d hurt her, and there was only one thing for it. He’d spend the rest of his days making it up to her, giving her nothing but love and joy and smoking-hot, sweaty bouts of mind-blowing sex and—
“Condom!” she gasped, ripping her mouth away. “I have a condom in my purse.”
That had him stilling above her. “Why are you just now telling me this?”
“I just now remembered. It’s in the back zippered compartment of my wallet.” She pushed at his shoulder, a wordless command for him to get off her.
She scrambled over to the edge of the mat, bending down and giving him an unencumbered view or her sweet ass, her delicious pussy, and that heart-shaped mole above her right butt cheek. Thank God there was still a sliver of light coming in through the entrances to the circus ring. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss this sight for anything.
A surge of blood to his dick had the thing straining and aching. He soothed it with a hand while avidly watching her scrounge through her purse.
