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Fun of a Lifetime 22
THE NEW ANGLE OF THE SUN THROUGH THE WINDOWS WOKE Angel too early the next morning. Unlike this bright, burning hit to her eyelids that jarred her awake in an instant, sunlight arrived differently in Atlantis: filtering through crevasses in the undersea cavern containing the city, bouncing off the golden walls and marble build-ings, mixing with the refracted light of glowing magma to seep between her lashes and coax her awake. The early-morning chirpings of robins outside her window didn’t help matters either. Stretching her legs and flexing her toes, Angel sat up on the bed with a yawn, realizing from the birds’ startled looks that she was naked. Again. Blushing, Angel searched for the sheets to cover herself but had to settle for a pillow when she saw the twisted pile of bedding on the floor. Why was she naked? Again? Slowly, last night came back to her. Coercing coop-eration out of Mariana had taken longer than she would have liked. It’d been catch-and-release there for a bi
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And a sigh out of her. Which, thankfully, she man-aged to keep very soft. “Cool! Let’s go see the manatees.” “Manatees?” That got her wayward thoughts off things they weren’t supposed to be considering anyway. While Angel loved the gentle creatures—especially this coastal contingent who were the ones responsible for discover-ing the coup attempt against Rod a few selinos ago—she couldn’t risk even one drop of saltwater reaching her legs. Not in front of Logan, and definitely not in public. “Michael, I think I’d like to steer clear of the ocean for a bit, if you don’t mind.” “Actually, Angel…” Logan addressed her directly, and silly her, she couldn’t hide the shiver that action sent through her. Good gods. What was wrong with her? She was a scientist, for gods’ sakes. She should have some control over herself. Yes, she’d proved that so well last night in this very kitchen … “The refuge is on the river,” Logan contin-ued as if there were no inappropriate thoughts diving through he
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Logan peeled his gaze off the panes in the French door and focused it on the white cabinets over the micro-wave. Then at the faded-denim curtain the designer had insisted he needed over the window. At the maroon-and-navy, rope-design tile along the top of the backsplash the same designer had insisted on. It was no use. His eyes wanted to return to Angel. She looked like… He didn’t know what she looked like in that outfit. Perfect was the only word that came to mind. Her long, blonde hair—the soft, silky hair he’d felt trailing over different parts of his anatomy yesterday and wouldn’t mind having along other parts of his body—hung to her hips, damp loose waves making him think of nights spent in wild abandon. Her face, with those rarest-of-color eyes, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her smile, so generous and quick, a Cupid’s bow of a mouth and the dimple high in her cheek… the woman was utterly stunning. And he’d had her up against the cabinets, devouring her with his lips and wanti
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THE MANATEES WERE BEAUTIFUL. ANGEL HAD ALWAYS thought so. So serene. Content to bob among the shoreline vegetation, these creatures never seemed bothered by any-thing. They took life as it came, floating with the waves, bumping into each other for comfort. Talk about babysit-ters. Any child of the sea was always safe in their care. She still kept in touch with the herd her parents had hired to watch her and her siblings when they’d vaca-tioned off this coast when they were younger. Matter of fact, she thought she recognized a familiar face or two, but luckily, by pretending to have a pebble in her shoe, she had the chance to ask the manatees to treat her as they would any other Human. The birds, however, were another matter. “Can you talk to animals? I saw that in a movie.” Michael asked as a cardinal flitted down from the trees to tweet at them for the seventh time, swooping from one side of the path to the other, garnering her more interest than she cared for. “Of course she ca
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ANGEL TOOK ONE LAST PASS BY THE MANATEE ENCLOSURE AS they headed toward the park’s exit. She’d loved seeing everyone, but the fact that they were in pens saddened her—and reminded her exactly what Humans were ca-pable of. Oh, yes, this facility was for the animals’ ben-efit, and visitor money enabled the caretakers to care for the manatees, but other Humans weren’t so altruistic. That’s why she was determined to succeed. For every-one’s benefit. The smiles Logan had given her today when she’d sug-gested Michael hold his hand were a personal benefit. “So, Michael, what do you think of the manatees?” she asked as they were departing, not dwelling on per-sonal anything when it came to Logan. Well, trying not to. Michael wrinkled his nose. “Manatees don’t look like mermaids. Mermaids are pretty.” A smile replaced the thoughtful look on Logan’s face. He obviously found Michael’s comment funny, but Angel took the comment for what it was: a compliment. “Perhaps not to you, but they’re b
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LOGAN COULD PUT THIS DAY ON HIS LIST OF GREAT ONES. Michael had obviously had a wonderful time, and Angel… The woman was beautiful, knew a hell of a lot about the creatures the park rescued, and Michael obviously adored her. And, Nadia’s prediction notwithstanding, Logan was coming to adore her as well. He honestly couldn’t say when he’d enjoyed a day—and a woman—more. He followed Angel and his son across the parking lot and clicked the remote opener so Michael could climb in the car, wondering if Angel would sit in the back like yesterday, or the front as she’d done on the ride over. Then she tossed her hair over her shoulder again and he wanted to ask her to sit up front. Right next to him. Every time she’d done that today, every time her eyes crinkled with laughter or she’d sung with the birds, he’d found himself remembering last night. “Angel.” Her name slipped out before he thought better of it. She reached the car and looked up at him with those expressive eyes. “Yes?”
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ANGEL CLOSED THE STORYBOOK AND SET IT ON THE NIGHT- stand beside the bed. “I had a fun time today, Michael.” She handed him his bedraggled, stuffed raccoon. “Me, too.” Michael plunked the animal next to his pillow. “Angel?” “Hmm?” “Are you gonna be here tomorrow?” He made a big pretense of arranging the raccoon’s paws just right, and his eyes didn’t meet hers. “Of course I will, Michael. I had a great time today.” She almost reached out to tousle his hair but stopped her-self. Yes she’d be here, but he was already so attached to her, she shouldn’t encourage more. How would he handle it when she did have to go home? “I’ll send your dad up, okay?” “Okay,” Michael mumbled. “Good night.” She pulled the covers over his shoulder. “G’night.” At the bedroom door, Angel watched him slip his hat back on his head then settle down. One arm wrapped around Rocky, Michael curled the rest of his body around the toy and pulled the covers tight as if shielding them both from the outside world.
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“ANGEL? WHERE ARE YOU?” Logan. Angel’s chuckle was half-groan. Talk about karma, the universe, whatever. She swung her legs off the edge of the lounge and toed around for her shoes. “Right here, Logan.” He rounded the corner before she could get her sec-ond shoe on and stand, which left her gaze at thigh level. His thigh. So not where she needed it to be. She sprang to her feet—and teetered on the new ap-pendages that were now at uneven heights, thanks to the one-shoe thing. Gods, when would she learn? Then Logan reached out to steady her and didn’t let go, and she figured she’d learned fairly well. No no no. The job. She had to remember the job. “Are you okay?” If she could find her voice, she’d answer him. As it was, she could only nod. “Oh. Good.” He let go of her arms. Thank the gods she managed to stay upright. Some learned scientist she was—cool, professional, able to maintain distance when dealing with her subjects— Yeah, she was fooling no one. Least of all her-self
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