Sensuous Angel Read Free

it on a thousand Bibles.”
    “Tell me about the ‘little walk’ you were about to take. A knife—that’s armed robbery, macho man.”
    “No, Father, really.” There were tears in the boy’s eyes now. Donna felt an absurd twinge of pity; he was in deeper terror now than she had been when the knife had been at her throat. And he was young. Really young. Just a kid….
    “I just wanted to get closer to the shadows of the buildings, Father. So’s I could let her go and then disappear with no chance of her getting a cop on me. I swear to God, Father! I swear. I’ll never do it again, Father, never—”
    “Get out of here!” the priest commanded with disgust, shoving the youth from him. “I won’t call the cops—this time. But if I ever see you doing anything other than helping old ladies across the street again, I promise you’ll be in agony when you do sit in your jail cell—got it?”
    Dumbfounded still and probably scared into ten years of penitence, the boy nodded fervently. His face was as ashen as the crumbling facades of the tenements.
    “Padre, I’ll find a job. I promise. I ain’t never gonna steal again, I swear it. May God strike me dead—”
    “If you’re serious, call the rectory. No promises, but maybe there might be something. Now, go!” the priest commanded.
    Still the youth hesitated, the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Padre—”
    “No one’s coming after you, son,” the priest said with a quiet sigh. “I’m going to trust your promises. Partly because I don’t think you’d chance another run-in with me. Now—go on! Go home!”
    The youth began to back away, slinking against the wall. He moved hesitantly at first, then—as soon as he had gained a safe distance from the priest—he turned and began to run as if all the demons of hell were after him.
    The priest watched him until he was swallowed up by the shadows of twilight. His face as ruggedly immobile as granite, he stooped and retrieved the offending knife with an agility that was startling for his size. He tripped the blade and folded it into his pocket. Then his disturbing golden gaze turned to Donna.
    He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her, annoyance clearly etched across his well-defined and rakishly handsome features.
    “All right, lady,” he demanded impatiently. “Just what kind of an idiot are you?”
    She was no less stunned by the strange priest than her assailant.

CHAPTER TWO
    “I ’M NOT AN IDIOT!” Donna protested indignantly. She winced inwardly. Sprawled on the ground, her stockings ripped, her neat chignon a mass of tangled dishevelment, she did feel a bit like a fool, if not a complete idiot. But she was not about to condescend the point to this man—even if he had rescued her and even if he was a priest.
    He shook his head with exasperation. “Lady, any woman walking along this street in a suit from Saks has to be an idiot.” He finally extended his hand to her. She gazed stupidly at his hand. It was broad, the fingers long, the nails bluntly clipped.
    Ignoring his gesture, she attempted to rise on her own. As soon as she placed her weight on her injured ankle, a streak of pain ripped through her. Before she could stop it, a soft cry escaped her. To her vast dismay, she found she was losing her balance once more.
    But before she could teeter ignominiously back to the pavement again, the supporting hand she had just refused came about her waist and she was steadied. She stared up into the flame hazel eyes that now held a glint of amusement and murmured an awkward “Thank you.”
    It was the most disconcerting gaze she had ever encountered—and from a priest. “I—I can stand now,” she stuttered nervously.
    He chuckled. “And then what?”
    “Pardon?”
    “It’s unlikely that you can walk.”
    “I’ll just get a cab—”
    “Don’t be a fool.”
    A flash of anger ripped through her. “I’m already an idiot. Why not be a fool?”
    He chuckled again, undaunted