Page 57 of Angel

‘What’s this?’

‘My backup; now it’s yours,’ I growled.

She scowled and crossed her hands over her chest. ‘Don’t need it.’

‘You’re my wife, and in my world it means I take care of you. Period.’

She arched a brow and shook her head. ‘Don’t want it.’

‘Don’t insult me, babe.’

‘I’m not, I’m just Miss Independent. Deal.’

We faced off until I huffed in amusement.

‘I’ll still get you, y’know,’ I rasped, tucking the card away while making a private note to track down her account details and make an outrageous transfer as soon as possible.

‘Never,’ she murmured as she wandered to the living room and pointed a remote control at the television screen.

‘I’m putting on a movie,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. ‘You probably want to head upstairs and rest, right?’

‘No,’ I replied, catching her off guard and surprising myself. ‘I’m staying here, with you.’

She blinked in surprise as I pulled an armchair close to the sofa, settling my broad shoulders against the cushions.

Throughout the entire two-hour feature, my focus drifted away from the glowing TV and fixed on her.

Every time she let out a quiet laugh or glanced my way, I held her gaze, mulling the connection between us.

An unfamiliar intensity stirred in my chest, a shift in my perspective that I couldn’t wrap my brain around yet.

I wanted to take care of Roxy.

The desire was sudden, savage, and it ran deep, and I mulled on it for the rest of the movie.

ROXY

When the credits rolled, I stood up and stretched my arms, yawning.

‘I’m exhausted, Angel. Heading to bed.’

He rose from the armchair at once.

‘I’m walking you to your door.’

‘It’s just down the hall,’ I murmured, but still he fell into step right beside me.

At the entrance to my room, I paused, turning to give his unbandaged hand a gentle squeeze.

‘Goodnight, Angel. Thanks for being my knight today.’

‘Always, Rox,’ he rasped, his voice dropping an octave. ‘Sleep well.’

I shut the door and headed to the bathroom.

As I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my mind whirled.

Had he protected me earlier out of genuine care, or was it just some ingrained reflex?