Fallen Angels. Lori Foster

      “I know. I’m not normally the physical type.”

      She shook her head. “No, you’re in shape, always have been. But from a gym, not from physical labor.”

      She continued to look at his hand and he raised it to her cheek, curling his fingers around her jaw and lifting so that her gaze met his. His eyes were bright, intent. “I’m glad you noticed, but it doesn’t matter. Will you try to forgive me?”

      His voice had been so soft, so cajoling. She hated herself for wanting to believe in him again, for wanting so many ridiculous things. But she’d been so alone for so long now. Her mind scurried for some response, some way of making him back off.

      “We could start over,” he said. “I’m different now, everything will be different. If I start to backslide and I disappoint you or Grayson, then you can toss me out.”

      At her skeptical look, he made a cross on his chest. “I promise. The decision is yours. You’re right about my family, they wouldn’t make good relatives at this point for Grayson and they’d likely make your life a living hell.”

      If Angel was right, they were already making her life hell—and determined that it get much worse. But she kept the words unsaid for now.

      Derek smiled. “And since I plan to be involved, that means they’d make me miserable as well. They don’t need to know anything about Grayson, or about you for that matter. At least, not until you’re ready.”

      As she opened her mouth, he interjected, “If you’re ever ready.”

      She had no defense against his optimism, his good humor. It was beyond her to remain disgruntled when he was being all she’d ever hoped for—for Grayson’s sake. “All right.”

      His grin was wide and sexy and suggestive. “Thank you. Damn, but you know how to keep a man on pins and needles. I hope this is the last time you test me, because my heart can’t take it.”

      She snorted, not ready to believe his heart was involved. Then to her disbelieving eyes, he set the laundry basket between them and began folding baby blankets. Angel stared.

      “Shocked you, have I? Well, good. God knows you’ve done me in enough times lately.” He lifted a small gown, struggled with it for a moment, then handed it to her. “I think I’ll leave the more complicated garments to you, and stick to the blankets and—” His voice trailed off as he lifted a pair of panties from the basket. They were pink and satiny and her blush was so hot, she knew her face had to be bright red. She snatched them from his hand.

      “Not a single word out of you or you can go.”

      “I’m mum.” He continued to fold, now in silence, but she could see his devilish smile.

      He was so very different, so unlike the Derek she knew, the man she couldn’t forgive or ever care about, not with the way he’d turned on her. This Derek was considerate and warm and somehow, more of a man because of it. In the past, she’d been drawn to his confidence, his good looks and his sophistication. She’d been overwhelmed by his attention, so flattered she hadn’t been able to think straight. Then he’d abruptly discredited her in every way possible.

      They worked in near silence, other than Derek humming, until all the laundry was done and put away. After Angel had placed her unmentionables in her dresser, leaving Derek to put up the baby’s things, she found him standing over Grayson’s crib, just watching the baby sleep. When she crept in to stand beside him, it somehow felt right to be there together, sharing the sheer joy of seeing the baby, hearing his soft breathing. When Grayson made a grumbling squeak in his sleep, Derek smiled, a small, proud smile that touched Angel’s heart and made her feel too warm and full inside. She turned around and walked out.

      She’d barely reached the kitchen before she felt Derek’s hand heavy on her shoulder. Her pulse raced, her breathing quickened. Slowly he turned her, and he whispered, “Angel,” his tone low and husky and affected by some emotion she couldn’t name but understood. Even before she met his gaze, she knew he was going to kiss her. She tried to tell herself it was necessary, that she had to keep him interested to have his help, but she knew she was lying. She wanted his kiss.

      And he didn’t disappoint her. This was no casual peck as he’d given her when he first arrived. No, this time his mouth devoured hers, without hesitation, hot and hungry, his tongue immediately sliding inside while his hands held her face and kept her close.

      Just that, nothing more. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, didn’t put his arms around her or pull her body into full contact with his. She could feel his heat, crossing the inches that separated them, and she wanted to be closer. But lovemaking was new to her and she wasn’t sure how to initiate anything, or if she even wanted to.

      Derek slanted his head, his breathing harsh in her ear, and a low groan came from deep in his throat. In the next instant, he pulled his mouth away and pushed her head to his shoulder. “This is crazy. I can’t believe how you affect me.”

      Angel didn’t know what to say to that. Crazy? It surely felt odd, but in a wonderful, miraculous way. Her hands were caught between them and she could feel his heartbeat, fierce and fast. “Why is it different this time?” she asked aloud, and all the confusion she felt could be heard in her tone.

      Derek laughed, then groaned and squeezed her tight, finally pulling their bodies close together. “Because it just is, because I’m different.”

      He pushed her back so he could see her face and smiled at her. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

      The topic had changed so suddenly Angel was caught off guard. “I…I can’t go anywhere. Grayson…”

      “We’ll take him with us.”

      She shook her head, not even considering the possibility of them being seen in public together with the baby. “No, I already ate.” She pondered all that had happened, all he’d done so far, then suggested, “Why don’t you come here for dinner instead.” She felt ridiculous, making such an offer, extending the verbal olive branch. But they did need to get reacquainted; she needed to decide if and how much she could trust him. She drew a deep breath and plunged onward. “I can cook us something.”

      He searched her face, and his continued silence made her wish she could withdraw her offer. Then he shook his head. “Damn, I’d like that. I swear I would. I can’t imagine a better way to spend my evening.”

      “But?”

      He released her and turned away. “My mother has this damn dinner planned.” He waved a hand, essaying his feelings on the affair. “My sister is getting married soon and it’s a sort of celebration dinner. All family is expected to attend.”

      “I see.”

      He ran a distracted hand over his face, then laughed. “I doubt you do. But at any rate, I appreciate the offer. Will you give me a rain check?”

      “Yes, of course.”

      He looked at her, into her, and she shivered. His hand came up to cup her cheek. “Aw, Angel, you do know how to drive a man crazy.”

      She didn’t know what he meant by that, so she ignored it. “If you’re hungry now, I could make you a sandwich.”

      Like a starving man, he grabbed up her offer. “Thank you. Anything is fine. And while I eat, will you tell me more about Grayson, about yourself?”

      That seemed like an odd request. As she pulled lunch meat out of the refrigerator, she glanced at him curiously and said, “You know everything there is to know about me.”

      “Not true. Tell me about the pregnancy, when you found out—”

      Slowly, feeling as if she’d been doused in ice water, Angel turned back to him. She dropped a package of cheese onto the table with a thunk. It was cheese he had bought, so she knew he must like it. “About the pregnancy. Now why would you want details on that?”

      Wary