Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(45)
He didn’t release her, and that forced her to peer around his shoulder to see her smirking—curious—friend leaning against the door she’d just closed. Angela wouldn’t have found any humor in the situation had she been able to see Alekzander’s other hand resting on what Sacha knew was a weapon of some sort at his lower back. He would either have a knife or a small pistol in a carrier strapped around his waist, along with the gun he always wore harnessed across his chest. Which was it today? She found herself wanting to lift his clothes to see what was pressed against his tawny skin.
Irritated when his hand flexed on the weapon, she smacked it. Quick as lightning, he snagged her fingers and held them. She could have kneed him or something, but he had made the protective gesture to protect her and Tanner, and it had been self-sacrificing. And sexy. And kind of chivalrous.
So she went easy on him and gently tried to extract her fingers. At the same time, she poked into the hard muscle in the middle of the broad back in her face to get him out of the way. “You can move now. We are in no danger from Tanner’s mother. This is Angela, my landlord and friend.”
“It’s probably in bad taste to voice this, but that was really hot.” Angela came over, giving Sacha a wide-eyed look that read holy-shit-did-he-really-just-do-that? She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m the best girlfriend and resident nosy protective bitch. You must be Alekzander.”
He released Sacha’s fingers to shake. “It’s Alek. Nice to meet you, Angela. Is it your normal practice to enter your tenant’s homes without knocking?”
“Alekzander!” Sacha poked harder, her finger really digging into that sinewy pad that ran along the right side of his spine.
Angela’s curved eyebrow rose, and her head tipped in that way that meant something either entertaining or shocking was coming.
“Maybe you didn’t hear me over the testosterone I had to swim through to get across the room; I’m Sacha’s bestie. That means I come and go from my girl’s place the same way she does from mine. We share our homes, our problems, our dreams…our hurts,” she said pointedly. “And that conveniently brings us back to you.”
“Speaking of convenient.” He finally stepped aside to take up his coat and shrug it on as he turned a masked stare on Sacha. “It seems these interruptions are working in your favor because you just gained yourself another respite. Do you own this building, Angela?”
“My dad does. When you say respite, I take it that means you’ll be back?”
“Of course. What does your father do for a living?”
“He buys buildings like this one and has his nine kids take care of them. Has Sacha given you any indication she wants you to return?”
His attention came to her, and the way that pale gaze made its way from her head to her toes, she knew he’d taken in her every reaction to him today. “Yes. This expressive little angel has always been very easy for me to read. What’s your surname?” he tacked on.
“Trump. What’s yours?”
Sacha, who could barely breathe after that visual caress, was looking between the two in disbelief. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously, forcing her voice not to betray the deep pulse now giving her trouble between her thighs.
Two heads turned her way.
“Finding out who she is.”
“Finding out what his intentions are.”
They spoke at the same time, and that had their focus returning to each other.
“My name is Angela Morgan-Taylor. I’m a crisis counselor at North York Women’s Center. My husband, Steve Taylor, is a trial lawyer at Sheppard, Lupin, and Sheppard. We’ve been married for four years, have one son,” she pointed behind Sacha, “and we have a shitload of parking tickets that we keep stuffed in a drawer next to our stove in the hopes that one day they’ll catch fire and all our problems will be solved.”
Sacha’s lip twitched. Alekzander’s didn’t.
He jerked his sleeves down then began buttoned his coat as he hacked away at Sacha’s resistance.
“I am Alekzander Evgeny Tarasov. I am co-owner of TarMor Incorporated. My should-be wife, Sacha Urusski, is self-employed. I fucked up our relationship of almost a year, have every intention of rectifying my grievous mistake, and would have been halfway there by now if you hadn’t interrupted.”
He stepped forward, gently clasped Sacha’s slack jaw, and pressed a warm kiss to the corner of her shocked mouth. “I’ll try again later, angel,” he murmured before walking out.
“Well fuck me to tears,” Angela said under her breath as they both stared wide-eyed at the closed door.