head against the side of a brick building. His vision swam in and
out. Blac raised his hands to his head and closed his eyes. The scent of strong rum drifted to him. What a
waste of good liquor.
Soaked, sore, and irritated as hell, he struggled to his feet. His eyes swept the area for Angel’s
blonde head, but he couldn’t find her. He frowned. Where was she?
His heart tripped. Was she hurt ? “Angel!” he shouted. He crossed to the cart wreckage and
rummaged through the pieces of wood. Rain impaired his vision and he couldn’t see a damn thing. Where
was she ? He shouted her name again, and the wind tore it from his mouth.
Fear slithered down his spine. Was she hurt? Dead ?
He frantically searched for her; his heart thundered inside his chest. What the damned impulsive
woman needed, once he found her, was a damn good paddling, which Logan should have done years ago.
A moan sounded and he strode toward it.
Heaving a large piece of the wagon siding aside, he found her. Relief exploded from him in a
whoosh. The wind died down to a soft whine. Her eyes were closed, and raindrops trickled across her
smooth skin. She was beautiful. He kneeled next her. Lifting her, he whispered, “Angel. Wake up,
sweetheart. Are you all right?”
Past images of Angel flashed through his mind and he realized how much he’d missed her smile.
Angel and Logan had both become such a large part of his life over the years that he wasn’t certain what
he would do if he lost them both. “Are you injured?” he whispered.
Before he had her hauled to her feet, the tip of his own sword pricked him just beneath his chin. Her
reflexes had improved much over the last two years. “You should be advised, Captain Barclay, I am no
longer a child.”
Blac tilted his chin higher at the deliberate point she managed to include with her words. He’d yet
to drop his hands. “I expected no less, Angel. You were far from childhood the last time we met, if I
remember correctly.”
“Yes I was, but you don’t have to be a child to be naïve, and for that I should thank you. It was
obviously a lesson I needed to learn, and learn it I did.”
He shook his head. “You speak of things you know little about.”
“Do not think for a second that I will listen to your excuses now.” The tip of the sword drew blood,
which trickled down his neck. “My only hope is that my father never learns of your duplicity. But do not
ever think that I will forget.”
He chuckled and peered down his nose at her, defying the pressure of the sword. “I find that ironic,
Angel. You assume you know your father so much when in fact, you know so little. This was your father’s
idea.”
Her eyes rounded and then narrowed. “Liar!”
“Am I?”
She expelled a breath, the sound harsh in the silence of the rain. “I don’t believe you. You lie to get
your way.” The downpour bathed them and dripped from her chin, and a low rattle of thunder
accompanied her words.
“If only that were the case.”
He stared her down. Rain flushed the cut above her eye, the blood running red down the side of her
temple. Minutes passed with no movement or sound before her eyes dropped to his mouth. “There was
once a time when I craved even a simple word from you. But now, my only wish is to wash myself of
your touch.”
Surprise widened his gaze. “I am so revolting to you now?”
“Yes,” she hissed. But her eyes filled with tears, contradicting her words.
“And here I had hope we could pick up right where we left off.” He lifted the corner of his lip to
belie his words.
“And if I remember correctly, I warned you to remove your hands from me,” she said.
A single brow arched over his eye. He did not remove his hands. Instead, he squeezed tighter.
“Before you issue threats, madam, you should make damn certain you are able to back them up.” One of
his hands seized the sword hilt and dragged it away from his neck to the left. “I am neither
out. Blac raised his hands to his head and closed his eyes. The scent of strong rum drifted to him. What a
waste of good liquor.
Soaked, sore, and irritated as hell, he struggled to his feet. His eyes swept the area for Angel’s
blonde head, but he couldn’t find her. He frowned. Where was she?
His heart tripped. Was she hurt ? “Angel!” he shouted. He crossed to the cart wreckage and
rummaged through the pieces of wood. Rain impaired his vision and he couldn’t see a damn thing. Where
was she ? He shouted her name again, and the wind tore it from his mouth.
Fear slithered down his spine. Was she hurt? Dead ?
He frantically searched for her; his heart thundered inside his chest. What the damned impulsive
woman needed, once he found her, was a damn good paddling, which Logan should have done years ago.
A moan sounded and he strode toward it.
Heaving a large piece of the wagon siding aside, he found her. Relief exploded from him in a
whoosh. The wind died down to a soft whine. Her eyes were closed, and raindrops trickled across her
smooth skin. She was beautiful. He kneeled next her. Lifting her, he whispered, “Angel. Wake up,
sweetheart. Are you all right?”
Past images of Angel flashed through his mind and he realized how much he’d missed her smile.
Angel and Logan had both become such a large part of his life over the years that he wasn’t certain what
he would do if he lost them both. “Are you injured?” he whispered.
Before he had her hauled to her feet, the tip of his own sword pricked him just beneath his chin. Her
reflexes had improved much over the last two years. “You should be advised, Captain Barclay, I am no
longer a child.”
Blac tilted his chin higher at the deliberate point she managed to include with her words. He’d yet
to drop his hands. “I expected no less, Angel. You were far from childhood the last time we met, if I
remember correctly.”
“Yes I was, but you don’t have to be a child to be naïve, and for that I should thank you. It was
obviously a lesson I needed to learn, and learn it I did.”
He shook his head. “You speak of things you know little about.”
“Do not think for a second that I will listen to your excuses now.” The tip of the sword drew blood,
which trickled down his neck. “My only hope is that my father never learns of your duplicity. But do not
ever think that I will forget.”
He chuckled and peered down his nose at her, defying the pressure of the sword. “I find that ironic,
Angel. You assume you know your father so much when in fact, you know so little. This was your father’s
idea.”
Her eyes rounded and then narrowed. “Liar!”
“Am I?”
She expelled a breath, the sound harsh in the silence of the rain. “I don’t believe you. You lie to get
your way.” The downpour bathed them and dripped from her chin, and a low rattle of thunder
accompanied her words.
“If only that were the case.”
He stared her down. Rain flushed the cut above her eye, the blood running red down the side of her
temple. Minutes passed with no movement or sound before her eyes dropped to his mouth. “There was
once a time when I craved even a simple word from you. But now, my only wish is to wash myself of
your touch.”
Surprise widened his gaze. “I am so revolting to you now?”
“Yes,” she hissed. But her eyes filled with tears, contradicting her words.
“And here I had hope we could pick up right where we left off.” He lifted the corner of his lip to
belie his words.
“And if I remember correctly, I warned you to remove your hands from me,” she said.
A single brow arched over his eye. He did not remove his hands. Instead, he squeezed tighter.
“Before you issue threats, madam, you should make damn certain you are able to back them up.” One of
his hands seized the sword hilt and dragged it away from his neck to the left. “I am neither
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