LITMIR.BIZ

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and I were somewhat better than associates before he died. If you’d ever like to talk about him, to know about him, I’d be glad to tell you what I can.”

      Dane’s smile actually hurt, but he managed it. “Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

      “Will you be at dinner tonight?”

      Damn, he’d forgotten his mother planned a family gathering. He had hoped to eat with Angel, to get to know her better. “Probably,” he conceded, knowing his mother would demand a valid reason for missing the meal. It was to be a formal dinner in preparation for his sister’s marriage, where the duties of the company would be discussed.

      “I know it’s difficult for you, stepping in here and keeping your own business afloat. If I can help in any way…”

      “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

      Raymond finally left with a lagging step, looking as if he had more to say but was reluctant to press. Dane knew he sensed where the present power lay, but that was just a fabrication of his mother’s fancy. He didn’t want the damn company. In fact, he would only stay in charge as long as was necessary to find out what had happened to Derek, to uncover the truth.

      And to get things settled with Angel.

      

      ANGEL SLOWLY HUNG UP the phone, her fingers tight on the receiver to keep her hand from shaking. Why wouldn’t it stop? She’d never hurt anyone, she held no power. There was absolutely no reason for someone to harass her.

      For one insane moment, she wanted to call Derek, but she quickly quelled that absurd thought. She wouldn’t rely on him, ever again. For all she knew, he could be behind all this. That thought made her stomach queasy.

      Moving slowly, she made her way to the bathroom and splashed water on her hot face, then leaned against the counter and took deep breaths.

      When the knock sounded on her front door only seconds later, she jumped, her hand going to her throat. The apartment was quiet, Grayson sleeping soundly in his crib. It couldn’t be Mick because he had left for school hours before after dropping off more papers to be typed, and no one ever called on her other than him. Derek would surely be at work and—

      The knock sounded again, this time a little harder and she feared Grayson would wake. She hurried to the door, hesitated just a moment, then called out, “Who is it?”

      “Ah,” she heard in deep, satisfied tones, “much better than just letting anyone in. I see you’re learning.”

      “Derek?” She turned the dead bolt and unlocked the door, swinging it open. “I always lock my door, except when I’m expecting Mick.” She looked him over, the casual way he leaned against the doorjamb, his open-neck shirt, so unusual for him. “What are you doing here this time of day?”

      His gaze went over her from head to toe. She wore a long caftan of muted gray-and-blue plaid. It was old and worn and the material draped her body softly. It unzipped down the front, making it easy for her to feed Grayson. Right now, the zipper was just low enough to show her cleavage and assure Derek that her breasts were unrestrained by a bra. Typically of late, her feet were bare; since injuring her leg, she seldom bothered with shoes at home.

      A long low whistle filled the air between them and Angel felt herself blushing. Self-consciously, she tried to smooth her hair which hung loose, but when she realized what she was doing she dropped her hand and scowled. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

      “Yeah, but I missed you so I’m here instead.”

      Before she could move, or even guess what he would do, he leaned forward and kissed her. The touch of his mouth was warm and soft and fleeting, leaving her stunned. Then Derek pushed in past her, taking his welcome for granted. The door closed with a snap.

      “Don’t do things like that.”

      “Why not? You like it, and I can guarantee I love it.”

      She felt her temper rise and he quickly held up both hands. “Okay, okay. You don’t like it. You’re entirely repulsed.”

      “Derek…”

      “What?” He smiled at her, a beautiful smile and she looked away. “I really do enjoy it, sweetheart. And I honestly did miss you.” He stepped closer to her once again, his gaze bright and probing. “You didn’t mind yesterday in my office. You asked me to kiss you then.”

      Angel drew a blank. He was right, she had pushed the issue. But that was when she’d thought he might not be interested, when she’d thought he’d need motivation.

      For a single moment she wondered if he was toying with her, but his expression was enigmatic, impossible to read. “This is a bad time,” she said, suspicious and determined to resist his classic charm. “I have tons of things to do.”

      “I can help.”

      “Derek…”

      He came close to laughing, but swallowed it down. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m pushing again. But damn, I have so much to make up for and I’m anxious to get started.”

      Nonplussed, she moved past him, removed a large basket of laundry still needing to be folded, and sat on the couch. “The past is the past, Derek. You can’t erase it, and since you haven’t contacted me in all this time, I have to assume it didn’t matter much to you until now.”

      “You’re surprised at my easy acceptance of things?”

      More than surprised. She was amazed.

      His hands were deep in his trouser pockets, his coat pushed back, and he rocked on his heels as if in thought. Finally, his head down, he sat beside her. Silence hung heavy in the air. He turned to her. “I’m sorry.” He shrugged his wide shoulders, his expression earnest. “I have no excuse, nothing, to explain why I was such a bastard. I wish I did, I wish I could pull up some believable tale to help smooth things over, to take away some of the hurt. But what I did to you was unforgivable. I know that. Still, I want you to forgive me.” Dumbfounded by this outpouring of emotion, she allowed him to take her hand, holding it when she would have pulled away. “Do you think you can?”

      When she merely frowned, he added, “For Grayson’s sake?”

      Angel stared at him, so many things he’d said clogging in her brain. He wanted forgiveness, even though he admitted there was no excuse for his behavior? And to use the baby’s welfare against her…but that was her biggest concern, her reason for contacting him in the first place.

      Only he didn’t act the way she’d expected, as she’d planned for. She’d expected grudging help in calling off his family—if indeed they were behind the threats. She didn’t even want to contemplate the possibility of another enemy.

      She wanted only to live in peace, to be able to take care of herself and her son without fear of danger.

      His hand was large and warm and again she noticed the roughness, which had never been there before. To buy herself some time, she said, “What have you been doing?” She turned his palm over and looked at it. “You have calluses.”

      He blinked at her, then looked down at his hand. With a twisted grin, he said, “Chopping wood, if you can believe that.”

      “It might be difficult.”

      “I know. I’m not normally the physical type.”

      She shook her head. “No, you’re in shape, always have been. But from a gym, not from physical labor.”

      She continued to look at his hand and he raised it to her cheek, curling his fingers around her jaw and lifting so that her gaze met his. His eyes were bright, intent. “I’m glad you noticed, but it doesn’t matter. Will you try to forgive me?”

      His voice had been so soft, so cajoling. She hated herself for wanting to believe in him again, for wanting so many ridiculous things. But she’d been so alone for so long now. Her mind scurried

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