Read Online Avenging Angel by Tara Janzen - Free Book Online

all the men who worked for Austin, why did he have to be the one to be a part of her personal crisis?
    She stepped away from him and averted her eyes. “Where are the scissors? I don’t want to start this until I have the scissors handy.”
    “Here.” He pointed them out, lying next to the sterile bandages and the extra tubes of antibiotic cream.
    “Fine,” she muttered under her breath, returning to her station in front of him. His knees were on either side of her hips, not touching her, but noticeably present. Sewing someone up was close work. There was no getting around the need to touch him, the need for sharing the same intimate space.
    She steeled herself to do the impossible, willing herself not to falter. Despite all he’d done to her, she didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want her cowardice, inexperience, or ineptitude to cause him more pain. She expected it to be difficult to get the needle through his skin.
    It was.
    Dylan swore, one harsh word. She pushed harder, forcing the needle through, and his cursing became a softly spoken, endless litany. He gritted his teeth against the pain and the lure of unconsciousness. If he passed out, she’d be out the door in a minute. The game would be lost and they both would die.
    The thread slipped through his skin less painfully. His relief was a tangible entity flooding his senses.
    “You smell the same,” he said roughly, speaking the first thought that came into his mind, needing to hear the sound of his own voice to keep holding on.
    Her concentration faltered for a moment, showing in the hesitation of her hands before she tied off the stitch.
    “Your perfume,” he explained. After just one suture, he didn’t think this was such a great idea. Sweat had broken out on his brow, his muscles were twitching and jumping, but he liked having her close. It helped fight off the weakness trying to engulf him. “I could always tell when you’d been in Austin’s office. Your scent would be there for a long time after you left, real subtle, but I could always tell. It used to drive me crazy.”
    She raised the needle for the second stitch, but he wasn’t ready. He grabbed her wrist again when she would have pierced his skin.
    “Don’t.” There was an edge to his voice.
    “I have to,” she whispered, not sounding any surer than he felt.
    They made a fine pair, he thought, captor and captive when they should have been lovers. He’d wanted everything from her except this, to use the best of his least redeeming skills against her, to trap her into sharing a closeness she’d once been willing to give.
    “I always wondered what I’d missed,” he said, his voice husky with a yearning he had no right to feel.
    Her hazel eyes flicked up to meet his. “You were at enough of those meetings to know you didn’t miss anything.”
    She’d misunderstood, which was for the best. This wasn’t the time to tell her how many nights he’d lain awake thinking about how it had felt to caress her skin, to have her mouth nearly touching his, His relationship to her had been irrevocably changed from seduction to survival, yet he wasn’t ready to relinquish his memories to the pain awaiting him.
    “I was at enough of them to know Austin wanted to take you to bed. You were safe, you know. I never would have let him get closer than you were comfortable with.”
    She lowered her lashes. “Not even Austin Bridgeman always gets what he wants.”
    “What about you, counselor?” he asked, still holding her wrist.
    “If I always got what I wanted, I wouldn’t be here, doing this. I’d be safe at home.”
    “Alone? Or with someone?” He’d thought about the possibility. She hadn’t been seeing anyone in Chicago. But she’d left Chicago four months ago.
    Johanna ignored his question and prayed he would release her, because she could not ignore the man. Being the cause of his pain had forced open the gates of her compassion, and with that damnable compassion had come all the