times, he had no idea. But the man was right not to like Willy. Fucking
stupid idiot with an equally stupid name.
The recent scandal about Angel's fiancé
played a major part in Manfred's decision to call him and send her here instead
of a five star hotel. She needs to lie-low and rest, Manfred had told him. Plus
she needed company.
Keep her entertained. Show her around, help
her forget about the fucking asshole and for chriminy sakes, help her sleep, Manfred had said with bridled anger in his voice while
on the phone.
Oh, yeah, one quick look at her deep forest
green eyes, he could tell that she needed sleep. Dylan assessed Angel from her
high-heeled sandals to her straight bright sunshine-colored hair. She must be
five feet five inches with a small frame. If he were to compare her to an
actress, he'd say she resembled Gwyneth Paltrow except more beautiful. Her
short skirt showed her long and shapely legs that drove him crazy the moment
she walked in the door. Even in their present state, they were fucking lovely. And
those eyes…he wondered if they would change color while in the heat of passion.
His dream suddenly formed in his head. The woman in her bed, long-legged and
moving her hips in synch with his, moaned and urged him to go deeper. Except
this time, that woman had a face. Angel's face.
What the fuck!
A part of him stirred and grew. Damn. "I
talked to Manfred today. You're supposed to arrive here tomorrow and I'm
supposed to pick you up."
"I left a message on his machine. What's
the difference between coming here today and tomorrow?"
"Big." Manfred also forgot to
mention that his granddaughter was a sass. "You wouldn't have had to crawl
here if you waited until tomorrow. I know the streets around here, which the
cab driver obviously didn't."
"I didn't crawl. I tripped. Big
difference. Manfred said you are a friend so I expected to find a seventy-five-year-old
man as my guide."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
Angel looked down at her knees and picked at
the dirt clinging to the skin. "I don't need a guide."
Angel looked so miffed he thought to tease
her. "Cobblestones are all over downtown Seattle, you know."
"I'm not a klutz if that's what you're
trying to imply." Angel lifted her chin and gave him a haughty look. "You
know what? I don't like you."
Ah, there it is. What Manfred talked about--Angel
the brat. He wanted to laugh at her expression, but
thought better of it. "That's hard to believe."
"What? That I don't like you?"
"Yup. All women like me."
"Well, not this woman. Stop staring. It's
rude."
Dylan grinned. He shouldn't find a banged-up
woman sexy, but he did. He couldn't believe it. This woman was so perfectly
made he got hard just by staring at her. And she made him think of sweet
naughty things like making love at the beach or in a meadow or under the canopy
of stars. If a few minutes in her presence could make his dick hard, he couldn't
imagine what a month would do to him. Damn. What the hell was wrong with him.
Was he really that sex deprived? Of course not. He had one night of hard
experimental sex with voluptuous Ivy last month. However, this woman sitting here,
looking lovely in front of him, made him feel like he never had a woman in
years. Oi!
"Alright, if you don't want me to look
at your face, where do you want me to look?" He shouldn't flirt with her,
but she provoked him.
"Wow. You're an ass."
"Again, lots of women would disagree with
you."
"They must be blind and with horrible taste."
Dylan raised his hands in a mock surrender. "Okay,
you must be weak because--"
"I am stronger than I look."
"Yeah, maybe you don't need a guide.
Looks like you could take care of yourself. You'd probably lose a limb if you
couldn't," he said, unable to resist the temptation to tease her again.
Angel speared him with a you're-not-funny look,
then began inspecting her knees again. "Why are you friends with my
grandpa? Oh, wait, your ages are not that far apart, right?"
"Are you always like this