She might. Hehadkilled her abusive husband. And the last time Angel had looked in the mirror, he wasn't all that hard to look at. He could give her all the time she needed. It wasn't as though he hadn't already waited years to find someone he could be with long term—someone he didn't have to hide from.
Now that they were in the house, she seemed a lot more afraid of him. Of course she was. It was natural. They were locked inside his isolated secure property with no chance anyone would happen by to save her. He could do anything he wanted, and she didn't know what that might mean for her.
I should let her go.But he just... couldn't. He wanted her too much. Out of all the things he'd done, was this finally the thing that would make him feel evil? He'd never felt fully human, not bothered by the same pangs of conscience that got to most people, but that same lack of guilt also made it impossible to see himself as a monster.
Oh for fuck's sake, Angel. She's going to live in luxury for the rest of her life. And eventually she'll get to leave the property. Once she truly sees who she belongs to and accepts it.
If possible, his internal pep talk was only making this worse.
“I'll show you to your room, then we'll eat.”
“Okay.”
Angel took her luggage and led her out of the main entrance hall, up a flight of stairs, and down a long hallway. “This is my bedroom if you need something,” he said, gesturing as they passed it.
He took her to the far end of the hall as far from his room as it was possible to get in this wing. He flipped on the light to illuminate a bedroom decorated in pale calming greens and blues with clean minimalist lines and thick white bedding. There were natural handwoven green and blue rugs on the blond hardwood. The furniture matched the floor with aged silver knobs on the various drawers. There was a dried lavender bouquet in a vase that still gave the room a light pleasant scent.
He set her luggage down beside a table with a flat screen TV on it.
“There's a walk-in closet and your own bathroom,” Angel said as if these amenities made up for the fact that he was now keeping a prisoner in his home—someone who definitely didn't deserve his brand of affection.
He really was the most perfect opportunist.
Angel pulled back the blinds on a sliding glass door and opened it to reveal a tiny balcony with a white table and a single chair. “It overlooks the pool, and there's a great view of the mountains in the distance. You can't see any of it well at night, but in the morning, you'll love it. You get the sunrise from this window. What do you think?”
“It's very nice.”
You have to let her go.
“Let's eat,” he said, ignoring the voice of reason.
***
Astrid followed him down to the kitchen. He had to know she wasn't a threat to him. But how could he? She could just as easily be lying. Maybe she should show him the scars to prove it. Then he might let her go. The whip lashes Joey had left on her back should make things clear enough, but she wasn't sure she wanted to set up a situation Angel might take as an invitation. Lifting her shirt enough to show him all those scars might be too intimate a thing to do if she wasn't sure she wanted him to touch her.
She wasn't sure shedidn'twant him to touch her. Which was crazy. She definitely shouldn't want him to touch her. What was wrong with her that she kept being attracted to bad men?
He hadn't stopped looking at her inthat way. She kept waiting for him to... throw her down or something. Back in the bedroom she'd barely been able to breathe. Standing so close to him and a bed... when he looked at her like he did—like a wolf that wanted to eat her. And what if he hurt her? Joey liked it rough.
There were a million reasons why she shouldn't be attracted to Angel starting with the casual way he could kill and dump a body.
She should have learned these lessons the first time with Joey. But Angel seemed different. More in control of himself.
Even in the beginning, Joey had been a loose cannon, someone whose swirling vortex of emotions seemed to drag him along and control his every move. It had seemed exciting in the beginning. And he could take care of her. It had been so easy to overlook the bad stuff until the bad stuff had made her bleed and left permanent marks.
“Is ginger ale okay with your pizza? You probably don't want caffeine this late if you want to sleep.” Angel took a big box from a local pizza place out of the refrigerator.
“That's fine.”
“I'm going to pop this on a stone and heat it in the oven. It'll take a few more minutes, but it's better than microwaving.”
He turned the oven on and put the pizza in, set the timer, and poured them some drinks then sat across from her at the table.
“Look, I know you say he abused you, but did you know what he was into?”
Astrid stared at the table, unable to meet those sharp blue eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.
“And what was he into? I want to make sure you really do know,” Angel said.