Read Online Daniel and the Angel by Jill Barnett - Free Book Online
Authors: Jill Barnett
Tags: Humorous, Romance, Historical, Literature & Fiction, Historical Romance, Romantic Comedy, Holidays, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), General Humor, Humor & Satire
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house?"
"You collect things."
"You make it sound as if that's a criminal act."
"Not criminal. Sad. Look at this room." She waved her hand around.
He gave it a cursory glance. There was nothing wrong with the room. It was the best his money could buy. "Yes?"
"It's filled with collections. Priceless art, perfect porcelain, but nothing .. . alive. And the color."
"What about the color?"
"Look around you. Open your eyes. Everything is gold—as if gold, wealth, is the most important thing in the world. This is not a home you live in. It's a temple to the almighty dollar."
He didn't look at the room. He looked at her. "You criticize my house because I won't believe this foolishness that you're an angel."
"No! You don't understand."
"You're the angel. Work a miracle and make me understand."
She began to pace alongside the bed. Grabbing the bedpost, she stopped and looked at him again. "Okay. It's Christmas. What is the first thought that comes into your mind when I say the word Christmas?"
Tipping, he thought, but he'd be damned if he'd admit it.
"Ah-ha!" She pointed a finger at him. "You thought of money just then."
"You're guessing."
"I'm certain. The gleam of avarice in your eyes was hard to miss. Nowhere in this entire house is there any sign of Christmas. No greenery. No tree. Nothing. And what about your servants?"
"What about them?"
"Do you give them special holidays to be with their families?"
"They'll be compensated."
"Money again." She walked over to him and, placing her hands on his chest, looked up at him as if she expected him to be something he wasn't— something he didn't understand.
"Can't you understand? Can't you at least try?"
When she looked at him that way, he almost thought that perhaps he could be different. But he didn't know if he could give her what she wanted, what she asked. Because he didn't understand it, and it scared the hell out of him.
His gaze moved to her mouth, because he had to look at her. His look wandered slowly down the shirt and her legs. His anger turned to want, the need that seemed to consume him since that first night when she'd caught him looking at her.
He wanted her now, but his pride reminded him that he had for so many years had everything on his own terms. He made the rules.
"Please don't look at me like that."
"Why not? I paid for the privilege."
She flinched as if he had hit her.
Silently he stood there, part of him wanting to take the words back, and another part of him—pride and anger and rejection—not allowing him to move or speak. Everything was all mixed up in his head and his heart.
She stepped away, raising her hand as if to fend off a demon, her expression half horror, half hurt. "I can't do this," she said under her breath. "I can't."
She looked ready to bolt.
He grabbed her then. "Don't leave. Lilli, don't leave. "
She watched him for a long time. "Daniel," she whispered. "What is it? What are you so afraid of?"
He shook his head. "Promise me. You won't leave like you did before."
"Why?"
He let go of her and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry." He turned away, feeling vulnerable and open, naked in her eyes. He just left her standing there because he needed to think and he couldn't think with her looking at him that way. He crossed the room and opened the door.
"Daniel?" Her voice was so soft he wasn't certain he'd heard it.
He paused and took a deep breath.
"I'll stay."
He exhaled and loosened his death grip on the door handle. He nodded, because he couldn't find his voice, and he left, closing the door behind him.
He leaned against it for a moment, then had an insane thought: Perhaps she was an angel.
Lilli stood at the window and watched Daniel's carriage pull away from the house. He'd left later this morning than normally. She'd been waiting and watching. She threw on a dark red cloak and tied on a matching bonnet.
She walked to the bedroom door and stopped suddenly, snapping her fingers. She ran back and
"You collect things."
"You make it sound as if that's a criminal act."
"Not criminal. Sad. Look at this room." She waved her hand around.
He gave it a cursory glance. There was nothing wrong with the room. It was the best his money could buy. "Yes?"
"It's filled with collections. Priceless art, perfect porcelain, but nothing .. . alive. And the color."
"What about the color?"
"Look around you. Open your eyes. Everything is gold—as if gold, wealth, is the most important thing in the world. This is not a home you live in. It's a temple to the almighty dollar."
He didn't look at the room. He looked at her. "You criticize my house because I won't believe this foolishness that you're an angel."
"No! You don't understand."
"You're the angel. Work a miracle and make me understand."
She began to pace alongside the bed. Grabbing the bedpost, she stopped and looked at him again. "Okay. It's Christmas. What is the first thought that comes into your mind when I say the word Christmas?"
Tipping, he thought, but he'd be damned if he'd admit it.
"Ah-ha!" She pointed a finger at him. "You thought of money just then."
"You're guessing."
"I'm certain. The gleam of avarice in your eyes was hard to miss. Nowhere in this entire house is there any sign of Christmas. No greenery. No tree. Nothing. And what about your servants?"
"What about them?"
"Do you give them special holidays to be with their families?"
"They'll be compensated."
"Money again." She walked over to him and, placing her hands on his chest, looked up at him as if she expected him to be something he wasn't— something he didn't understand.
"Can't you understand? Can't you at least try?"
When she looked at him that way, he almost thought that perhaps he could be different. But he didn't know if he could give her what she wanted, what she asked. Because he didn't understand it, and it scared the hell out of him.
His gaze moved to her mouth, because he had to look at her. His look wandered slowly down the shirt and her legs. His anger turned to want, the need that seemed to consume him since that first night when she'd caught him looking at her.
He wanted her now, but his pride reminded him that he had for so many years had everything on his own terms. He made the rules.
"Please don't look at me like that."
"Why not? I paid for the privilege."
She flinched as if he had hit her.
Silently he stood there, part of him wanting to take the words back, and another part of him—pride and anger and rejection—not allowing him to move or speak. Everything was all mixed up in his head and his heart.
She stepped away, raising her hand as if to fend off a demon, her expression half horror, half hurt. "I can't do this," she said under her breath. "I can't."
She looked ready to bolt.
He grabbed her then. "Don't leave. Lilli, don't leave. "
She watched him for a long time. "Daniel," she whispered. "What is it? What are you so afraid of?"
He shook his head. "Promise me. You won't leave like you did before."
"Why?"
He let go of her and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry." He turned away, feeling vulnerable and open, naked in her eyes. He just left her standing there because he needed to think and he couldn't think with her looking at him that way. He crossed the room and opened the door.
"Daniel?" Her voice was so soft he wasn't certain he'd heard it.
He paused and took a deep breath.
"I'll stay."
He exhaled and loosened his death grip on the door handle. He nodded, because he couldn't find his voice, and he left, closing the door behind him.
He leaned against it for a moment, then had an insane thought: Perhaps she was an angel.
Lilli stood at the window and watched Daniel's carriage pull away from the house. He'd left later this morning than normally. She'd been waiting and watching. She threw on a dark red cloak and tied on a matching bonnet.
She walked to the bedroom door and stopped suddenly, snapping her fingers. She ran back and
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