She stood there, letting the water stream over her face, washing away worry, strain, fear and hopelessness. It was a new day.

Eyes still closed, face turned up into the spray, she reached blindly for the bottle of shampoo. A hand gripped her wrist, and she pulled her head back and opened her eyes.

Micah, naked, droplets of water beading on his chest, stepped into the shower with her.

He gently lowered her arm back to her waist and retrieved the shampoo himself.

He stepped in behind her and squeezed shampoo into his hand.

"Lean your head back," he said huskily.

He lathered the shampoo over her hair, working it into her scalp. When he was done, he pressed forward, forcing her underneath the showerhead again.

With the water beating down, rinsing the soap from her hair, he hiked her right leg upward, her knee rubbing against the shower wall.

He positioned his cock at her pussy and thrust forward. The force sent her into the wall, her hands flying up to brace herself.

He gripped her waist and held her tight as his hips slapped against her ass.

Pleasure rippled through her groin. Her pussy fluttered in response and gripped his cock as he went deeper. Water rained fast and furious. It felt hotter than before, and steam rose 152 as their breathing sped up.

It was an ambush plain and simple. A quick, hard fuck and she loved every second of it.

It was raw, primitive, a man reaching out to his woman, his possession. It was a reminder that she had no power except what he gave her. He took, she gave, and she gloried in her offering.

Trapped between the hard wall and his equally hard body, she took the punishing drive of his pelvis.

"I want your ass, Angel," he growled in her ear. "I'm tempted to see if you can take me right now, right here, just like this."

A shudder rolled down her body, and she closed her eyes as she balanced precariously on the edge of orgasm.

His movements gentled. He bit into her shoulder, a hard bite, and then he licked the spot before nipping again. Then he sucked hard, his intent to mark her, a visible reminder of his presence. As if she could ever forget.

He stroked in and out. She writhed helplessly against him, wanting more, wanting it harder, just a little push over the edge.

"Tell me what you want," he ordered against her ear.

He nipped at her earlobe then sucked it between his teeth.

"Tell me, Angel. You don't come until you tell me."

"Fuck me," she gasped. "Make it hurt. Hard, Micah. Please."

He slammed into her, driving her mercilessly into the wall. Her cheek banged against the slick surface heated by the water.

One more. Just once more.

He withdrew, reached down and spread her buttocks, pushing upward so that she was open and vulnerable. Then he ripped into her again and she fell over. Down, hard.

Pleasure, mindless, numbing pleasure rolled over and over, expanding until she quivered, held tight between the world of pain and endless, sweet sensation.

He pulled out, and she registered that he hadn't come yet. She tried to drop to her knees, anticipating that he'd want to come in her mouth, but he caught her, holding her up.

"Easy, Angel girl," he murmured.

153 When he was sure she could stand, he reached for the soap and a washcloth. To her surprise, he gently soaped her body, taking extra care around her pussy that still pulsed from her orgasm. Each touch was agony and he didn't linger.

He followed the path of the washcloth with his mouth, his lips and tongue heating a path much hotter than the water. He kissed her skin so tenderly that her heart ached. How could he say he didn't care, that he didn't want to care when his every action contradicted his words?

Even when he tried to punish her, when he pushed, expecting her to balk, there was such torment in his eyes that she knew it wasn't what he wanted to do but what he thought he should do.

And now his every touch, his every kiss, was an apology.

She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the tender care he lavished on her body.

When finally he was done, he reached up to turn the water off. She swayed as he let her go, and he put a hand on her arm to steady her.

"Wait here while I get a towel," he said.

A moment later he returned and extended his hand to help her from the shower. As soon as she stepped out, he enfolded her in the large towel.

She went willingly into his arms and buried her head against his chest as he rubbed at her skin.

He slid a finger underneath her chin and gently tilted her head up until she looked at him.

Their gazes connected, and she saw so much in his eyes that she knew he wasn't aware of. He tried to keep himself closed off, but what she saw now took her breath away. It gave her hope. It made her believe.

His mouth lowered to hers in the most tender of kisses. Their lips made soft sounds as they moved together. Warm, so sweet. No one had ever kissed her like this. There was so much emotion, so much feeling. Did he feel it too? Would he retreat?

He pulled away, his breathing ragged and his eyes glittering with more than simple lust.

He wanted her, but in that moment, Angelina knew he realized he also needed her. Would he admit it?

"Want to go for a drive this morning? Wouldn't hurt to get out for a while. Could head down to the coast as long as we're careful and pay attention to our surroundings."

"That would be fantastic. I haven't been to the beach since I left Miami."

154 "The beaches aren't as pretty here," Micah warned.

"I don't care. Just being able to breathe the salt air again will be heaven."

She went back into his arms and squeezed tight.

"Thank you."

He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Go get dressed and we'll head up. I need to make a few calls and let everyone know where we're going. I want to keep watch and see if we're followed."

She sucked in her breath. "Is it safe?"

"Don't worry. I'll be armed and we're going to stay in very public places at all times. If we're followed, then we know we're not safe here at The House. I'm hoping he's still waiting for you to show at your apartment or at your job. If he makes a move there, we'll bust him."

"Okay."

He kissed her again. "Now go get dressed so we can get out of here."

155

CHAPTER 25

Micah watched Angelina arch her face into the sun and breathe deep of the sea air. The stiff breeze blowing off the water sent her hair rippling in a wave behind her.

He didn't move, didn't say anything. He didn't want her to move, because he was content to watch her turn into the sun like a cat seeking the warmth.

She was beautiful. Why had he never noticed before? He'd been married, not dead. Yeah, Hannah had been the only woman he was focused on, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the rest of the opposite sex. Angelina had never registered on his radar. She'd been David's little sister. Family.

"It's such a beautiful day."

Micah smiled at her rapt expression.

"Nothing can ruin this. I won't allow it. We won't even think about the asshole stalker.

Agree?"

Well, he certainly encouraged her not to think about the guy after her. He'd prefer for her to relax and enjoy herself, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't be spending every minute of the day looking over their shoulders.

But he smiled and nodded, enjoying her enthusiasm.

She walked over and sat beside him, snuggling into his side as they overlooked the seawall. He wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed the feel of a warm, soft woman against him. He hugged women, his friends, but this was different. There was more than affection working.

"Tell me about Miami," he said as he stroked her hair.

"What do you want to know?"

"Did you finish school? You never told me."

"I did. I graduated a year ago. That's when the notes started actually. I'd gone out to celebrate on graduation night. Came home to a dozen roses and a sweet congratulatory 156 note."

Micah frowned. "Wonder if it was someone at the university."

"Could be. I didn't date that many guys in school. I mean I kept it casual. Friends, movies, group dates, that sort of thing, so I doubt anyone could have gotten the wrong idea from me."

"So what did you study? Last I knew you were wanting to be an art major. David was less than enthused."

He felt her smile against his chest.

"I made him crazy with my hippie notions as he called it. Said I was too much like our flighty mother. He was always so sensitive about her. He was afraid I was too much like her."

"He never talked about her. Just your dad," Micah said.

"Yeah, I know."

She sounded a little sad, and he squeezed her a little tighter to him.

"She's not dead, you know."

Micah stiffened in surprise. "I was certain David said they were both dead. Your mom first and then your dad right after David graduated high school."

She sighed against him. "Mom left when I was really young. I don't remember her. I just get glimpses, you know? And even then I'm not sure I'm remembering her. It could be someone else. David never forgave her for breaking Dad's heart. According to David, she was flighty and irresponsible. An artist with no ambition other than wanting to travel to en vogue places and paint the cliched scenes."

"Ah, so that explains the aversion to you being an art major."

She shrugged. "It was a passing fancy. I mean how many high school kids really know what they want to be the minute they graduate ? I took general studies my freshman year and then declared a major my sophomore year."

"And? Dare I ask what you grew up to be?" he teased.

"A teacher," she said softly. "But I had to leave before I could go to work."

"David always loved children. You share that with him."

157 She smiled. "I always saw David with an entire house full of kids. One clinging to each leg, one in each arm and at least two running behind him screaming 'Daddy' at the top of their lungs."

His stomach knotted. He'd wanted kids too. Hannah would have been the perfect mother.

He and David had worked out that Hannah would stay at home with any children they had. They'd even had plans drawn up to add on to the house when the time came.

"I'm sorry," Angelina said as she reached up to touch his face. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. I forget sometimes just how tied you were to him and Hannah."

Micah shook his head. "You should be able to talk about your brother without worrying what it's going to do to me. He was your family. He loved you."

"Do you ever wonder why them and not us?"

His brows furrowed and he looked sharply at her. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just wonder why some people die when they do. Why wasn't it me? I wasn't married. No connections to anyone. It would have been easier for it to be me.

David would have mourned, but he would have had you and Hannah. Or do you wonder why not you instead of David? Or am I the only crazy one who asks those kinds of questions?"