Johanna Lindsey - Angel

“You already know him. I married Angel.”

“Angel? Not — no, of course not—”

“Actually, yes, Colt’s friend.”

Jessie just stared for a moment before she burst out, “You and Angel?”

Cassie winced, she sounded so disbelieving. “I guess it does sound pretty ludicrous, but it wasn’t actually our idea. Remember how you and Chase got married?”

“How could I forget his gun sticking in my back?” Jessie replied. Then her turquoise eyes widened. “You don’t mean Angel forced you?”

“Not him. It was some neighbors of my papa’s who objected to my meddling.”

“And Angel let them do it?”

Jessie’s amazement was quite understandable. Anyone who knew Angel knew he wouldn’t stand still for something like that, that he would prevent it from happening, with bloodshed if necessary.

“They’d already disarmed him before he knew what they were up to.”

“He must have been killing mad.”

“I thought he would be, and I did everything I could to try and talk them out of it, imagining he’d kill them all. But actually, he was only angry at me. My meddling had brought it upon us, after all.”

“And you’re still alive?”

Cassie grinned, aware that Jessie wasn’t completely serious with that remark. “I think Angel draws the line at shooting women.”

“Is that why your mother went hightailing down to Texas all of a sudden?”

“No, she thought I might need help with those neighbors of Papa’s,” Cassie explained, “but Angel had already defused that situation.”

“What was he doing down there, anyway?”

“I ended up being a favor he owed someone.”

“That’s Angel for you. He takes debts he owes real seriously. He’s been trying for years to pay my brother back for saving his life. In fact, Colt mentioned that Angel had helped him out with the duchess down in New Mexico, so their debt’s finally squared.”

“Yes, Angel told me about that.”

Jessie gave her a concerned look then. “Your mother must not have been too pleased to hear about you wedding Angel, even if it wasn’t intentional.”

“That’s putting it mildly. As it happens, she’s taken a real dislike to him ever since.”

“Well, don’t worry about that. She’ll get over it just as soon as you get it annulled. I’m surprised she hasn’t already taken care of that for you.”

Cassie couldn’t hold back the blush her answer generated. “She can’t. Getting an annulment was no longer an option after Angel insisted on having a wedding night.”

Jessie’s eyes flared. “Well, hell, when did he get to be so ornery?”

“Possibly after he met me. We don’t exactly get along too well — all the time.”

“Who does? But didn’t he know he’d be forcing you to get a divorce?”

“He knew.”

“Then I don’t get it. What could he have been thinking of?”

Cassie’s blush got a great deal brighter. Jessie noticed and said, “Oh,” and did some blushing of her own. “Did you mind — no, don’t answer that.” Jessie’s blush got worse now. “That’s too personal—”

“It’s all right, Jessie,” Cassie interrupted. “That’s part of the problem. I didn’t mind at all.”

“Are you saying you have special feelings for Angel?” Jessie asked carefully.

“I guess I am.”

“Then you aren’t going to get a divorce?”

“That’s the rest of the problem. He expects me to. My mama expects me to.”

“Well, who the hell said you have to do what’s expected?” Jessie asked.

“But Angel doesn’t want to be married.”

Jessie snorted. “He should have thought of that before he had himself a wedding night.”

Cassie sat back, bemused. Now why couldn’t she take that attitude? But she knew. Jessie wasn’t the type to let anyone walk on her without stepping right back on them, but Cassie had to be good and mad before she even thought about stepping on anyone.

In fact, she’d already tried to get mad at Angel again, to remember all the things about him that irritated her, to remember their last encounter — at least how it had ended. Mad, she could be arbitrary and make him wait some more for that divorce. She hadn’t thought about flat out not giving it to him.

She looked at Jessie helplessly. “I don’t think I could do that to him.”

Jessie shook her head. “He didn’t have any qualms about making your marriage legal. I wouldn’t have any about keeping it that way— if that’s what I really wanted. If that’s not what you want, Cassie, go ahead and divorce him.”

But it was what Cassie wanted. She had no doubt of that anymore. She just had every doubt about the wisdom of trying to get what she wanted from a man like Angel.

Jocelyn Fleming, Dowager Duchess of Eaton, wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to the flame-red hair she was brushing. She was watching her lover in the mirror of her vanity as he sat on the bed they’d just spent a pleasurable hour in, toying with a piece of paper in his hand. He was dressed already, in his usual casual attire of tight black pants, blue shirt, red bandana — and knee-high moccasins. His fringed buckskin jacket hung on her bedpost. He wouldn’t need it again tonight, for his sister and her husband were coming over for dinner, would in fact be arriving shortly.

She wondered, not for the first time, if she would be able to get him into a suit for their wedding. She seriously doubted it. She wondered, too, if he was ever going to cut his past-the-shoulder-length black hair again. The last time he’d worn it short, he’d nearly been whipped to death — on the front porch of this very ranch.

She still ached for him each time she saw his scars, and he no longer hid them from her. She’d already decided she would never ask him to cut his hair, since he wore it long deliberately so no one would ever again doubt that he was a half-breed. The decision would have to be his alone — when and if he could ever put all of that old bitterness to rest.

She liked to think she was working on helping him toward that end. At least now he was more like the happy, contented man his sister had described to her, rather than the surly, near savage man she’d tricked into escorting her to Wyoming. Until the day she died, she’d never forget his expression when she’d called his bluff and agreed to pay him fifty thousand dollars to be her guide. Dear Edward’s money had never given her as much pleasure as it had that day.

“All right, I give up, Colt,” Jocelyn said, drawing his light blue eyes to the mirror. “My curiosity simply can’t bear it anymore, so tell me, what are you sitting there frowning about?”

“This damn letter from Angel.”

“When did it arrive?”

“It was there when I went to town this morning. And I shouldn’t even call it a letter. Two damn sentences is all he wrote, though I can’t really complain about that, since he probably had to have someone write it for him, and he’s never been long-winded.”

Her brow rose slightly. “Are you trying to make me feel sorry for that despicable friend of yours by telling me he can’t write?”

“I never asked if he could, but I seriously doubt it, with the way he was raised — and you can’t still be mad at him for that stunt he pulled in New Mexico.”

“Can’t I? I truly thought I was going to die that day. He could have told me he was on my side, instead of letting me think the worst.”

“If you’d thought any differently, Longnose might have suspected something, and who’s to say you and Angel would have got out of there alive? Now I’m not condoning what he did, but he did have the best intentions. You’d been running from that man for three years without knowing what he even looked like. It was time you knew.”

“I give you only that,” she allowed.

“Well, give me one better,” he said. “If you’d had to waste time guessing who Longnose was when he showed up here in your bedroom that day, you wouldn’t have acted as swiftly as you did, and you might have been dead by the time I got up here to kill the bastard.”

She hadn’t thought of that, but still, she really detested the idea of being grateful to Angel. Pointedly, she said, “You were telling me about his letter. What has you so upset about it?”

Colt grunted. “I’m not upset, I’m baffled.”

“And you’re handling it very well, too.”

He gave her a sharp look. “He says he’ll be home within the week.”

“Wonderful.” She sighed. “In time for the wedding. Just what I wanted to hear. Does he at least own a suit?”

“You’re going to pay for that one, Duchess.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Do you promise?”

He came up to stand behind her. “My brother-in-law has the right idea. A woman’s neck needs to be wrung every once in a while.”

“If you put your hands on me, Colt Thunder, I can’t promise we’ll be available when your sister arrives.”

He bent down to lick the bare skin on the inner side of her camisole strap. “Jessie would understand.”

“Philippe wouldn’t.”

“That’s all right,” he assured her. “I feel like shooting that temperamental French chef of yours once a day anyway. So today I give in—”

“Stop!” She chuckled. “What else did your wretched Angel have to say?”

The frown was back as Colt glanced again at the letter in his hand. “He asks me to keep an eye on his meddling wife until he gets here.”

“I didn’t know he was married,” Jocelyn said. “Have I met her?”

“How the hell should I know?” he replied. “I haven’t met her yet myself.”

Her frown appeared to match his. “Then how does he expect you to keep an eye on her?”