“No,” Francine said with a straight face. “Why do you ask?”
With a quizzical expression, Roberta pointed to the items still waiting to be bagged. “Because you’re getting a bunch of cat things.” Apparently, Roberta didn’t get the joke.
Francine smiled. “I was just kidding. I found a kitten on my way home. I’m going to see how it goes.”
“Well, good luck. I have three cats and I love them to pieces. Just wait and see, one won’t be enough when you find out how fun they are.”
“Thank you. I know who to talk to if things don’t work out.”
Roberta shook her head. “Nope. My husband says three is the limit. I had to do some groveling for the second one and some outright, on my knees begging for the third, but I have no regrets. You won’t either.”
Francine grabbed her purchases in one arm, winked at Roberta and hurried back out to the parking lot.
Raphael had placed Angel on his chest, where she purred so loudly Francine could hear her from several paces away. “I think that kitten is in love with you. Maybe you should be the one to take her home.”
His gaze lifted and he gave her such an intense look filled with smoldering passion she nearly dropped her purchases and leapt into his arms to purr on his muscular chest alongside Angel. She stood staring at the big bad bounty hunter who could likely kill someone with his bare hands, holding a kitten like it was the most important thing he’d ever guarded, and fell in lust with him all over again.
She didn’t know how long she stood staring at him holding her kitten until he finally spoke. “What?”
The single husky word was enough to make her shiver.MaybeI’m in love with you instead of simply in lust. Will you takemehome? Make me purr?
Francine snapped her lips closed, shook off her lust or love or whatever it was, passed by him to keep him from seeing how impacted she was by his mere presence and moved toward her prized vehicle.
Raphael didn’t say anything. He fell into step behind her, letting Angel purr on his chest as he held the kitten cupped in one strong hand. She had purchased the SUV with lots of help from her former fiancé, now brother-in-law, Axel. He said it was an older model Ford Escape with low miles, had been regularly serviced and was in perfect shape. It was the vehicle’s name that sold her on it. Escape. How fitting. She loved it.
Francine had escaped from the near disaster of an arranged marriage to the man her sister loved. Axel was a good man, but she didn’t have the same feelings for him Lucy did. He was like the brother she’d never had. No lust. Not even a little. And most certainly not what she felt for Raphael. A single blistering gaze from him made her weak in the knees.
“Is your vehicle nearby?” Francine asked, inserting the key in the rear door and lifting it up to load her new kitten supply purchases.
“I don’t have one. I walk.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Why?”
She shrugged. “No reason.” She slammed the back hatch and gestured toward the passenger side. “You’ll hold the kitten on the way to my home, right?”
“Of course.”
They walked around to their respective sides, him careful to shield the kitten from any harm, her watching intently every move Raphael made. He was the very definition of poetry in motion. He was tall and very muscular, but moved in a way that wasted no movement, even as he exuded swagger and a “don’t even think about messing with me” aura. He was lithe. Predator-like. She was smitten. About to drool.
The drive to her house—something called a duplex, with two living spaces separated by a wall—was silent. The actual abode didn’t share a wall, only the laundry rooms and the garages connected the homes in two places.
Her landlady, Mrs. Greenstone, lived in the other half and was a very sweet older woman. She treated Francine like a daughter, in a good way. Her parents hadn’t treated her nearly as well, especially recently, so it was a treat to have someone who was nice to her on a regular basis.
Francine pulled into her oversized one-car garage, which had plenty of room all around to open the doors, even the back hatch when the garage door was closed.
Angel hadn’t moved, purring the whole way against Raphael’s firm chest and cradled in his capable hands. Francine already knew Mrs. Greenstone would allow her to have a pet. Her landlady had two cats and a small dog and had encouraged Francine to get a pet if she wanted, so she wouldn’t be lonely. She’d recommended a cat, since Francine had a job and was away from her house for several hours every day.
Mrs. Greenstone was what was known as a “talker,” but Francine didn’t mind.
She retrieved the supplies from the back of her SUV, rounded the vehicle and headed to the inside door with the sack slung in the crook of one arm, letting Raphael follow. She realized he’d see her place in seconds. Would he like it? Think it was too spartan? Too Earther-like? Well, it was too late.
Little bundle purring against his chest, he stepped inside the hallway that led to the kitchen, trailing her slowly, quietly, intensely, like the dark angel he was named for.
Her small dining area, with its table and two chairs, was visible from the kitchen. Around the corner was her living space with a hand-me-down sofa in front of a battered coffee table. It folded out into an uncomfortable bed. The two bedrooms, each with a full-sized bathroom, featured only a donated bedframe with her new mattress set in one and the boxes from her move in the spare bedroom. She loved her place. While she didn’t have much stuff yet—and what she did have had been contributed by various and generous members of the Grey family—she was very happy here.
Even without all the extravagant things her parents had provided until she’d defied them, she was happier to be on her own.
