I'm No Angel by Patti Berg Page A

out there, too, in what used to be my boat.”
    â€œMaybe he was spying on you. God knows the bastard told you more than once that if he couldn’t have you—”
    â€œHe wasn’t spying on me,” Angel said, cutting off Emma’s words. She didn’t want to think about the threats Dagger used to wave around as often as he waved his knife. “He had his binoculars trained on Tom, and when I headed my boat overto his to find out what the hell he was up to, he took off.”
    â€œDon’t tell me he managed to lose you.”
    â€œI didn’t bother keeping up with him. Besides, I had other things to do and I figure I’ll have the misfortune of bumping into him soon enough.” She took a sip of Perrier with a twist of lime. “I’ll find out what he’s up to then.”
    Emma nibbled the edge off of her chip. “Did you have any better luck figuring out what Tom Donovan is up to?”
    Angel laughed lightly. “Yard work.”
    Emma’s frown deepened. “Run that by me again.”
    â€œI spent nearly an hour watching him work in his courtyard, ripping up weeds, trimming trees, and drinking beer.”
    â€œAs I’ve said before,” Emma said, shaking her head, “P.I. work sounds dreadfully boring.”
    â€œIt wasn’t that boring.” Angel took another sip of her Perrier, the image of Tom’s nearly naked body flashing before her eyes. “He took his shirt off while I was watching him.”
    Emma’s eyes sparkled as she folded her arms on the edge of the table and leaned forward. “Let me guess. He was bronzed and buff?”
    A wide smile touched Angel’s face. “Think Hugh Jackman.”
    â€œAs Wolverine with claws? Or Wolverine nearly naked? Or in that movie with Meg Ryan? Or…Oh, never mind.” Emma patted her heart in extreme delight. “Hugh Jackman is Hugh Jackman and most women would take him any way they could possibly get him. So, now that you’veseen the Piano Man stripped down to almost nothing, what’s next?”
    â€œThe lovely lady with the angel wings tattooed on her shoulder explains why she was spying on me.”
    Lightning streaked through Angel’s insides when she heard that voice. When she felt those warm, callused fingers swirling around her crimson tattoo. Her eyes narrowed. She tried to spin around, but the Piano Man’s closely shaved and intoxicatingly spice-scented cheek pressed against hers and the pressure of his fingers on her shoulders kept her still.
    Trapped.
    Speechless.
    God, he smelled good.
    His touch felt even better.
    For sanity’s sake, she had to tell him touching her was off limits. Of course how she would say that without sounding weak and out of control was anybody’s guess.
    As she did so often, she just jumped right in, tossing out the first words that came to mind. “Would you do me a big favor, Mr. Donovan?”
    His face was too close to get a good look at his expression, but she could feel the brush of his lips against her cheek, felt them tilt into what she knew was an insufferable grin. “If you’re going to ask me to pay you more money for the privilege of having you bestow your favors on me tonight, you’re going to have to sweeten the pot.”
    â€œGetting more money from you is a delightful idea.” Angel twisted out of Tom’s embrace and hit him with her best I’m-in-control-tonight-and-don’t-you-forget-it smile. “Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll discuss your ever-growing charitable contribution?”
    Tom flipped a chair around, set it right close to Angel’s, and straddled it. His arm brushed her shoulder and lightning struck her again.
    Damn it.
    He flashed his ever-so-charming smile at far-too-gullible Emma. “Before we talk about money, Miss Devlin, why don’t you introduce me to your friend? We didn’t have the pleasure of being properly