Page 66 of Angel

As I grab my purse, my smile is a rare one. Finally, things are going my way and life is working out, unless you count a crazed stalker who is terrorizing me and the fact I just pleaded with a man to help me murder my father’s killer. It’s not exactly normal, but I suppose it is my kind of normal.

I nod to the doorman as I spill out onto the sidewalk and don’t see my car waiting. I’m a little unnerved by that, and as I make to head back inside to wait, the loud roar of a motorbike causes my heart to thump.

I turn and shivers roll down my spine as a biker in a black helmet sits astride his bike, staring at me. I swallow hard because the helmet doesn’t hide the skeleton mask covering the lower part of his face, and I am in two minds whether to bolt back inside or approach him.

The fact that it’s busy on the street gives me courage, and I tentatively approach the lone rider.

“Did Frankie send you?” He says in a husky whisper, and I swear I’m about to pass out when I notice his piercing blue eyes flashing behind his helmet.

“No.”

My words come out breathily. “Clinton did.”

He tosses me a helmet.

“I need a word.”

My hands shake as I place it over my head, and as I clutch my purse to my chest, I slide behind him, my arms wrapping around his body, my face angled toward his back.

What the hell am I doing?

I should be arrested for losing my sanity because this man might be about to murder me. In my heart, I know differently. This is Angel. I have never been surer of anything in my life.

He takes off through the traffic, and my mind is all over the place. I shouldn’t be doing this. What about Jason? This is bad.

I already know I can’t resist Angel. There is something about him that tears my rationality to shreds. Then there is Jason. I want to be faithful to him in both mind and body, but what are we? Friends. Business associates. Friends with benefits, one day soon?

You’ll just hear him out.

My inner voice reasons with me.

It may be nothing more than instructions. Be cool and businesslike. He will respect that. Keep your legs crossed and your heart hard, and you’ll survive this test.

Right now, I love that inner bitch who speaks sense all the time. She is right. Be sensible. You have the chance to get everything you ever wanted right now, so don’t blow it.

Perhaps Angel will help me anyway. He’s a killer. I already know that about him. Perhaps I can set up a meeting with Jason, so they can swap notes.

Bad idea.

I mean, notes on my father’s killer. They could work together.

I am now officially screwed because I’m having a full-blown conversation with my inner bitch as if she knows all the answers. I’m a fool. A wretched harlot who wouldn’t say no if they both wanted me at the same time.

Behave, Sophie, for fuck’s sake, get a grip. You can’t have two men, no matter how good that sounds.

* * *

We head out of the city at speed in the opposite direction from the studio. My director is going to be so pissed off at me. I’m late as it is. I’m going to get a reputation as a diva.

God help me, I’d play hooky all day if it meant spending time with this man.

We roar off into the hills, and I swear I don’t breathe once. My legs are shaking and my heart is beating so fast it might kill me before any accident we may have traveling.

He finally pulls off the road, down a dirt track, and as we head to a clearing, I note a small bench overlooking a breathtaking view.

He cuts the engine and I swallow hard.

As I tear off my helmet, he does the same, and yet the mask remains in place.