Read Online Alex's Angel by Natasha Blackthorne - Free Book Online Page A

approached. The two spoke in low tones, then Alex turned back to her.
    “Excuse me for but a moment,” he said.
    She sat there, huddled on the sidewalk, transfixed by the graceful movements of his body as he walked with the driver to the street and went to the horse on the left hand side. Then the two men examined one of horse’s hooves.
    The wind gusted mightily, cutting through her cloak and clothes. The cold seemed to transfer immediately to her bones. Clarity washed over her, dispelling her lustful fascination. All her earlier fears came pounding back upon her.
    Money was just money. She’d work something out for the rent.
    Home.
    She belonged at home, tucked safely up in bed. She had no place here, in the night, seeking to peddle her innocence. John had been correct—she’d been fooling herself.
    This was her last chance to escape.
    She jumped to her feet and took her chance. Picking up her skirts, she flew around the corner and down the alley.
    Footfalls echoed loudly in her head, then someone grabbed her from behind. An iron-strong arm latched about her waist.
    She screamed and struggled wildly, but to no avail.
    “Didn’t think I’d still be around, did you?” A hand clamped over her mouth.
    She caught her breath. Oh, Lord. She’d never forget that high-pitched, nasal voice. It was Green.
    Horror quaked through her in harsh waves.
    He held her fast to his body. “I am going to remove my hand from your mouth. If you scream again, I’ll make you damned sorry. Understand?”
    She nodded rapidly.
    He lifted his hand, then plunged it roughly down her bodice. She bit her tongue to stifle a scream and the sound came out garbled.
    “Hush now, I am not going to harm you. I am just looking for my money.”
    His money? Was the man completely insane? She drew her breath in, trying to shrink away from his hot, heavy touch as he searched all the folds of the fabric, even pushing his hand into her stays.
    “So you spent it already, did you? Never mind, you can pay me back in trade.” He dragged her along behind him.
    She pushed against him and tried to dig her feet in and resist his pull. But patches of frozen water on the ground—and God only knew what else—made her slip and flail helplessly against his body.
    “It’ll do you not one bit of good to fight.”
    His panted words punctuated the movements of his body as he worked to keep hold of her. Punctuating her helplessness. She sagged, exhausted.
    He laughed softly. “A little more agreeable now, eh?”
    A cold wind blew steadily. He kept moving towards an abandoned carriage that sat on the ground, its wheels removed and scattered about.
    He paused, breathing heavily for a moment, then he moved closer to her. “Nice and private here, girlie. With that harlot’s mouth of yours, I’d wager you give a devil of a French.”
    At his hot breath down her nape, icy spider legs seemed to crawl down her back. Whatever a ‘French’ was, his tone made it sound hideous. A surge of raw energy, a drive to get away, pushed all reason and prudence from her mind. Despite his warning, she began to scream and kick and claw with renewed vigour.
    “Damn you, you little cat!” he cried as he tightened his grip upon her with brutal intent.
    She gasped at the sensation that he was trying to squeeze the breath from her. Then he loosened his grip as he frantically worked his feet to maintain a foothold on the icy pavement. She pulled away from him and turned but his body came down on hers, knocking her to the ground. She hit the surface with both hands held out. The pavement had broken here, and soft, wet, mossy grass cushioned her fall.
    Green’s weight fell onto her legs and he groaned. Still struggling to regain her breath, she glanced over her shoulder and he stared back at her, his eyes gone glassy and his irises seeming to move from side to side. He gripped his middle.
    “Oh, God.” He moaned the words. Then his frame was racked by retches.
    She cried out and summoned