Read Online Angel Fire by L. A. Weatherly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L. A. Weatherly
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pocket of her other pair of jeans.
He swore, his fists tightening as he glanced back towards the wall the guy had disappeared over. The thought of the slimy creep stealing Willow’s photo – tearing it apart to see if there was money in the frame, then throwing it away in the garbage somewhere...
“Alex, it’s okay,” said Willow, touching his arm. “It’s...it’s only a photo. You couldn’t catch him now, anyway. And besides, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves – just let it go.”
He let out a breath, hating himself. “I almost had him...”
“It’s okay,” Willow repeated. “It really is.” Stepping forward, she hugged his waist. As he held her close, Alex knew he was seriously never going to forgive himself for this, even if Willow already had.
“I love you, you know that?” she said.
He managed a rueful smile. “Why, because I let that jerk steal your photo?”
Willow looked up; her eyes were like a forest washed with rain. He could see the happiness in them as she regarded him. “No, actually it’s because you’re everything I ever wanted.”
“I love you too,” he said softly, kissing her. Then he sighed. “Anyway, you’re right – I won’t catch him now. We’d better get going.”
He reattached the camping gear. Just as they started to climb back onto the bike, the woman hurried out from behind her stand again with a paper-wrapped package. The rich aroma of roast pork rose up from it.
“Please, take these for later,” she said in Spanish. “It’s the least I can do.”
“ Gracias, Señora .” Alex put the food in the damaged storage compartment, grateful to have it. They could save some money on dinner now.
“ Gracias, ” echoed Willow fervently. “ Muchas, muchas gracias. ”
A few minutes later they were speeding down the highway once more, leaving Chihuahua in a haze of heat behind them. The houses they passed were small, dusty, in various shades of pastel with black water tanks perched on top of each one. Alex gazed beyond the homes to the rugged shape of the Sierra Madre, looming off to the southwest. And with all his heart, he wished that Willow had never had her dream. He’d have had a decent shot at keeping her safe, up there in that wilderness. Mexico City was going to be anybody’s guess.
But they’d made their choice now. As they roared down the desert highway, he reached for Willow’s hand at his waist and twined his fingers through hers.
“W ILL I FIND TRUE LOVE ?” asked the woman. She was in her mid-twenties, pretty, with a serious, earnest face.
They were sitting in a corner of the Chihuahua marketplace. Seb considered how to answer as he pretended to inspect her palm – though the information he was getting had nothing to do with the woman’s lifeline, and everything to do with her aura; the feel of her energy; sudden flashes of knowledge.
“There’s a man in your life – his name’s Carlos,” he said. He wasn’t usually good on names, but he was sure this one was right; he was sensing it so strongly. “You’ve been hoping he’ll propose to you. Señorita , I don’t see this happening.”
Her expression fell. “But...he told me just last night to give him a little more time.”
Seb was getting it clearly now. Not only did Carlos have two other girlfriends on the go, he was married already. The woman had no idea; she’d believed everything the cabrón had told her. It was hardly uncommon – a lot of men didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word “faithful”, unless they were talking about what their wives and girlfriends had better be to them – but Seb had given too many readings over the years to stomach this attitude. He knew only too well by now what it did to women; how it made them feel.
“Carlos’s life is complicated,” he said, managing to hide his irritation at the man. “I’m sorry, Señorita , but he isn’t in a position to propose to you. I’m afraid he never will be.”
He wasn’t
He swore, his fists tightening as he glanced back towards the wall the guy had disappeared over. The thought of the slimy creep stealing Willow’s photo – tearing it apart to see if there was money in the frame, then throwing it away in the garbage somewhere...
“Alex, it’s okay,” said Willow, touching his arm. “It’s...it’s only a photo. You couldn’t catch him now, anyway. And besides, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves – just let it go.”
He let out a breath, hating himself. “I almost had him...”
“It’s okay,” Willow repeated. “It really is.” Stepping forward, she hugged his waist. As he held her close, Alex knew he was seriously never going to forgive himself for this, even if Willow already had.
“I love you, you know that?” she said.
He managed a rueful smile. “Why, because I let that jerk steal your photo?”
Willow looked up; her eyes were like a forest washed with rain. He could see the happiness in them as she regarded him. “No, actually it’s because you’re everything I ever wanted.”
“I love you too,” he said softly, kissing her. Then he sighed. “Anyway, you’re right – I won’t catch him now. We’d better get going.”
He reattached the camping gear. Just as they started to climb back onto the bike, the woman hurried out from behind her stand again with a paper-wrapped package. The rich aroma of roast pork rose up from it.
“Please, take these for later,” she said in Spanish. “It’s the least I can do.”
“ Gracias, Señora .” Alex put the food in the damaged storage compartment, grateful to have it. They could save some money on dinner now.
“ Gracias, ” echoed Willow fervently. “ Muchas, muchas gracias. ”
A few minutes later they were speeding down the highway once more, leaving Chihuahua in a haze of heat behind them. The houses they passed were small, dusty, in various shades of pastel with black water tanks perched on top of each one. Alex gazed beyond the homes to the rugged shape of the Sierra Madre, looming off to the southwest. And with all his heart, he wished that Willow had never had her dream. He’d have had a decent shot at keeping her safe, up there in that wilderness. Mexico City was going to be anybody’s guess.
But they’d made their choice now. As they roared down the desert highway, he reached for Willow’s hand at his waist and twined his fingers through hers.
“W ILL I FIND TRUE LOVE ?” asked the woman. She was in her mid-twenties, pretty, with a serious, earnest face.
They were sitting in a corner of the Chihuahua marketplace. Seb considered how to answer as he pretended to inspect her palm – though the information he was getting had nothing to do with the woman’s lifeline, and everything to do with her aura; the feel of her energy; sudden flashes of knowledge.
“There’s a man in your life – his name’s Carlos,” he said. He wasn’t usually good on names, but he was sure this one was right; he was sensing it so strongly. “You’ve been hoping he’ll propose to you. Señorita , I don’t see this happening.”
Her expression fell. “But...he told me just last night to give him a little more time.”
Seb was getting it clearly now. Not only did Carlos have two other girlfriends on the go, he was married already. The woman had no idea; she’d believed everything the cabrón had told her. It was hardly uncommon – a lot of men didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word “faithful”, unless they were talking about what their wives and girlfriends had better be to them – but Seb had given too many readings over the years to stomach this attitude. He knew only too well by now what it did to women; how it made them feel.
“Carlos’s life is complicated,” he said, managing to hide his irritation at the man. “I’m sorry, Señorita , but he isn’t in a position to propose to you. I’m afraid he never will be.”
He wasn’t
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