She pulled her full-length ice-blue chenille robe on, firmly tying the belt as she walked barefoot to the front door. “Yes?” she asked in a voice that said whoever was on the other side had better have a damned good reason for being there.
“It’s Alec, Angel. Open the door.”
Angelina hesitated for a moment and realized she probably owed Alec thanks. If he hadn’t been a witness to what had occurred in the sacristy, she might not be a free woman now. She might still be suspected of being part of the assassination attempt.
She unlocked the door and pulled it open, then just stood there staring at Alec. He looked good, given it was past midnight after a long, adrenaline-packed day. A hell of a lot better than I do.
“I thought so,” Alec said, taking in her still-swollen eyes. “I thought you’d be beating yourself up over this.”
She breathed sharply, and then said mechanically, “Come in.” She turned around and led the way into her small living room. She faced Alec again, good manners dictating she say, “Please be seated,” as she indicated the couch.
But Alec was having none of that. He moved to stand right in front of her, his hands grasping her arms. “You’re not thinking straight,” he told her roughly. “You did what you had to do. You’re not responsible—not for any of it.”
“I am,” she replied, her words just a breath of sound. “I killed a man. And I caused the death of another man because I let down my guard.”
Alec shook his head. “You can’t second-guess yourself like this. Not now. Not ever. You saved a life today, and that has to count for something.”
“Yes,” she said. “I prevented that man from trying to kill the crown prince, but you cannot say with certainty I saved a—”
His hands tightened on her arms as he pulled her flush with his body. His rock-hard body. “I’m not talking about the king’s son. I’m talking about me. You saved my life, Angel. I saw it in Tcholek’s eyes when he shot the cameraman. I was next. I was dead in the water, caught without my own gun drawn. It was my own damn fault, there was no way I wasn’t going to die—except you prevented it. You shot first. If your reflexes had been just a half second slower, I’d be dead now.”
She breathed deeply as the truth of his words sank in. So maybe she had done something right, after all, even if she’d been forced to take a man’s life to do it.
If only she could roll back the clock to yesterday. Or even to the moment before Sasha had entered the sacristy. But I cannot, she reminded herself with brutal candor. I cannot turn back the clock any more than I can forget killing Sasha.
If she couldn’t change what had happened, could she distract herself from remembering that moment when she’d touched Sasha’s still-warm body and had known he was dead? Could she focus instead on Alec? Alive, whole, uncompromisingly male...
Out of the jumble of her thoughts and emotions, one thing stood out—she wanted him. Now more than ever. She’d wanted him from the beginning, although she’d told herself it was impossible. But was it really? Would it be wrong to use Alec to forget what she didn’t want to remember, just for tonight? How many times had she dreamed of what it would be like to take Alec to her bed? How many ways would she regret this lost opportunity if she let it pass her by?
He wanted her, too. Now. This very minute. His body didn’t lie, and she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. “Alec...” That’s all she said. Just his name. Would it be enough? They seemed to operate on the same wavelength in so many different ways, would he understand the invitation she couldn’t put into words?
His brown eyes darkened as his whole body tightened. Then he was kissing her the way he’d kissed her on the jogging path. The way he’d kissed her in the cathedral. With a man’s whole purpose behind it. A man’s ardent desire.
He was so strong! She couldn’t get over how powerfully he held her as he covered her face with kisses, whispering his name for her: “Angel, oh God, Angel!” Intoxicating kisses that sapped her strength and made her tremble with longing. Longing to feel his bare skin beneath her hands, to finally know what his muscles felt like with nothing covering them.
From thought to deed. “I want you naked,” she breathed, tugging at the morning coat he still wore, and he obliged, stripping it off and dropping it on the floor. His shoulder holster came next, and when he shrugged out of it, she took it from him and carefully placed it on the end table beside the sofa. He surprised her when he bent and removed his ankle holster, which she also took from him and put down beside his primary gun. When she turned back, he’d already stripped off his tie and was unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, but he wasn’t going fast enough for Angelina. She tugged his shirttails out and began unbuttoning from the bottom up. When their hands met in the middle, Alec laughed softly, and after a second, she did, too.