Angel in Scarlet (Bound and Determined #4)(7)

Tapping one of those toes, she stared into the darkness before moving farther into the darkened hall to lean against a back wall. How long did she need to wait? Perhaps she should just leave.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the stage. Loud and staccato. And then a second set, lighter and more fluid.

She eased herself back into the shadow, sliding behind a hanging curtain.

Damnation. She could not be found here.

“Please wait, Colt. Please wait,” a high feminine voice called.

The loud steps echoed again, the distinct ring of boots. They strode about the edge of the stage. A cold, unmistakable voice filled the room, as clear as any actor’s monologue. “Really, Vanessa. I do not have time for this. I have said my piece and it is time for me to leave. You have made it very clear that we are not in agreement about the future.”

Her entire being froze. She knew that voice, had heard it whispering in her ear the night before.

The feminine voice persisted: “But, Colt, my sweet Colt, you know I never mean what I say. It’s merely my hot temper. Slow down a moment and I will make it up to you.”

This could not be happening. Colton could not be here. He could not be. There must be some mistake.

His voice sounded again. “I doubt that is possible.”

“Are you challenging me?” The mysterious Vanessa’s voice rose in flirtation.

“No.” That sounded very definite.

Even in that single word, there was no denying that it was Colton’s voice, but she had to see. She leaned forward, peeking out from behind the curtain. It was hard to see anything in the dim light.

Perhaps she should slip out now, before she knew for sure. If she didn’t know, then she could pretend it had never happened.

“Well, you still must give me a chance to persuade you. Perhaps a private performance, right here on the stage? I could practice my flute playing.”

Flute playing?

“Flutes are quite thin, I believe,” Colton’s voice answered.

“You know I didn’t mean that,” Vanessa answered. “I am quite aware that you are anything but thin—although perhaps the length is about right. Come, give me another chance.”

“I’ve already given you several extra chances.”

“And I’ve deserved every one. Let me show you how I deserve one more.”

“I really do not have the time, Vanessa. I was not joking.” But the footsteps moved back toward the center of the stage.

And suddenly she could see, dusty light falling from some half-covered window above. Long black boots. Fawn inexpressibles over firm thighs. A deep-navy tailcoat. Very nice. Broad shoulders. Dark wavy hair above angled features barely visible in the dim light. And the harsh planes of that face. She could not mistake that face.

Her already frozen stomach dropped. There could be no pretense, no mistake: Lord Colton—her Colton—stood center stage.

And then her heart stopped. It actually stopped. She could feel the break in the beat, the pain radiating through her.

And when it beat again, the agony only magnified, filling her, eating through her. Killing her.

Never in a million years would she have imagined this. He’d been courting her last night, flirting with her—he had kissed her for the first time, kissed her with all the answers she’d ever dreamed of—and now, now he was with…The woman, Vanessa, was naked, or at least nearly so. Only the thinnest of dressing gowns draped her body, long pale legs flashing with each step she took, large breasts pressing against the silk, working to be free.

And then in a blink she was naked, the robe falling in a puddle of silk behind her, her elegant pale body posing and arching. In one supple motion she slipped to her knees before Colton, her lips parting in clear invitation. “I really do need some practice, Coltie. Come let me give you my very best performance.”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that. I am not a puppy,” he stated flatly, but he did take a step toward her, stopping a mere handbreadth away.

Vanessa smiled, her hands rising to the band of Colton’s breeches. She caressed downward, causing him to jerk.

Angela wanted to close her eyes, to duck away, but she could not. She wanted to run crying from the hall, but she dared not. She wanted to scream, to yell, to release all the pain and hurt that filled her soul.

Vanessa slipped a hand inside the fold of Colton’s breeches, her smile growing.

Colton stood without moving.

The flap that covered him came loose.

Angela shut her eyes, unable to watch further.





Chapter 3


“I am leaving.” Colton’s voice was flat and measured. “Do not follow. Accept that we are done.”

Angela’s head lifted, bringing her back to the present, to the autumnal garden and the man who stood before her. The man she had thought loved her.

She swallowed, letting the pain of the memory fill her.

She could not fail again. Could not let him win again.

She pulled in a deep, deliberate breath, feeling her breast swell and press once again. The heat of his gaze hit her. He might not believe she would do this thing, but he did want it. Strength began to fill her. “I will do it. I will show you my breasts.” She raised her hands and placed them at the top of her gown, covering the rising swells.

“Then do,” he dared.