NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger Read Free

hadn’t been so little. But then again, her daddy’s investment money had probably paid for it, too. Something about that thought made her laugh again.
    Brad’s hand covered hers, his fingers as warm as fire. Just like the alcohol sloshing around inside her. But when she tried to lift the glass to her lips, it wouldn’t move. Because Brad was physically holding her arm in place.
    “Hey.” She tried to tug free of his grip.
    “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”
    “Oh, no. Not nearly enough.” Her head felt like some kind of weird flower that when deprived of drink began to wilt … wilt … wilt … until someone watered it again. She snapped it back upright when her forehead touched Brad’s muscular arm and tried to burrow into it, a strange lethargy taking hold of her.
    Gentle fingers prised hers loose from the glass and set the drink on the wooden floor beside the ottoman. Just as she started to wilt again she felt arms at her back, beneath her knees, and she levitated just like she’d seen in those horror movies when a demon possessed someone’s body. But when she tried to hold her arms out to float higher, she found them trapped against her sides.
    And while this demon growled in a low, deep voice just like the ones in the films, the tone didn’t sound angry. Instead, the soft words circled the air above her face. She pulled them into her lungs, knowing somehow this being was powerful enough to keep all the other demons at bay. Including Travis. Her breath exited again on a sigh, along with the will to do anything but snuggle close and slip away into oblivion.
    Brad pushed open the door to his bedroom, thankful he and Katrina had not spent time on the king-sized mattress like he’d planned. Instead, he set Chloe on top of the brown silk coverlet, not quite sure what to do with her. The guest bedroom hadn’t been used in ages and he didn’t think the bed even had a sheet on under the tan striped spread.
    He gazed down at her, something inside him softening as memories from their childhood washed over him. The three of them bobbing in the pool in Jason’sparents’ backyard, tossing a young Chloe high into the air and hearing her happy scream as she hit the water and sank—then spluttered back to the surface ready for more.
    How embarrassed he’d been when his friend’s folks had to come to the police station to pick him up when, at eighteen years of age and fed up with life, he’d careened around a dangerous curve on his motorcycle, intent on putting an end to his pain, only to have the damn bike slide out from under him on the unpaved road before he’d hit full speed. When he’d opened his eyes—still very much alive—all he’d been able to think of was that his parents had been right about him: he screwed up everything.
    Chloe’s parents had dragged him home with them that night. He could still see the wide-eyed stare Chloe had given him when he’d walked through the front door, road rash burning up one of his cheeks and the side of his right arm. The way she’d covered her mouth with both hands in horror.
    That look had convinced him that checking out really would hurt someone—even if his parents had sniffed in disgust and simply sent his chopper off to the nearest repair shop without a word. They’d tended to show their displeasure in an entirely different way—a locked door was a powerful weapon.
    Yes, he and Chloe Jenkins had been through a lot together.
    But never in his wildest dreams had he pictured her in his bed. Well, maybe he had. But he’d damned himself from here to eternity for wanting to peel off her wedding dress and have her innocence all to himself.
    Shaking off the thought, he started to pull one corner of the bedspread around her, but her coat was stillwet. He really didn’t want her to sleep in it—especially as she’d begun shaking the second she’d entered the apartment, despite the fact that late spring in New York tended toward warm and humid. Her