Angel Nicholas - Dying for Love

Grace straightened her shoulders, wiped a stray tear from her cheek and stood. She set the paper on her bed and pulled the intact cashmere sweater over her head. Her thoughts ran in circles as she tugged on socks and tennis shoes. Looping a strand of hair round her finger, she stared at the paper. What she wouldn’t give to crumple it into a ball and toss it. Instead, she grabbed the scrap and headed into the living room, resigned to the inevitable.

Matt glanced up from where he sat on her floral couch, her cordless phone and the phone book in hand. Her lips twitched. Like a physical caress, his gaze moved over her. Appreciation gleamed in the dark depths. His eyes narrowed on the paper in her hand.

“What’s that?”

“I found it on the floor mixed in with the clothes—most of which have been slashed.” She placed it face up on the coffee table. Matt leaned forward.

“Trailer trash?”

She settled on the couch beside him. “I’ve never even lived in a trailer.”

“I don’t like this, Grace. The note makes it more personal.”

She bit her lip, not wanting to mention the other note. The one she’d found in her car. A stress headache bloomed into life right behind her eyes. He picked up her cordless from the coffee table and handed it to her. “Call the police.”

“You know you’re incredibly bossy, right?”

“Hazard of being the boss, I guess.”

He leaned back against her pillows. He didn’t even appear offended. Relaxed and comfortable came to mind, despite the frown drawing his dark brows together and the tight set of his lips. Sprawled on her couch, he also looked entirely too sexy for her peace of mind.

His gaze dropped to the phone lying in her limp hand, then back up to her face, with a lift of his brow.

“Bossy,” but still she dialed. Bossy, yes. But right too. At least he provided a distraction from her fear.

Matt settled into the booth across from Grace. Sharing her side of the table held more appeal, but that would probably be pressing his luck. Besides, he’d been patient for six of the longest months of his life, admiring her intelligence, spirit, fire and beauty from afar. He could be patient a while longer.

Dusky rose spread across her cheeks. To his amusement, she avoided eye contact, perusing her menu with great interest. The past week had shown she wasn’t immune to him. Before that, she hadn’t revealed the slightest awareness of him as a man. He had started to worry.

He wasn’t worried anymore.

He glanced at the menu. Angell’s Bar & Grill tended to be fairly quiet, even during the dinner rush. Classy, great food and they weren’t too fussy about how their customers dressed.

They placed their orders and he rested his arms on the table. If he wasn’t mistaken, Grace had enjoyed riding on his bike. He’d certainly gotten a rise out of her riding behind him. Literally and figuratively. She’d wrapped herself around him in a way that went beyond the mere physical.

He sipped his water, searching for a safe topic of conversation. Something to keep her mind off the creep breaking into her place. “Have you made it out of the city yet?”

“I went to McCall. The Winter Carnival was fun, and the ice sculptures were amazing.”

“They’re different every year too. I try not to miss it.” He grinned. “They can get pretty goofy. There was a toilet one year.”

“You’re kidding.”

Matt shrugged, laughing. Grace chuckled, but a few seconds later her gaze drifted to the window. She had to be pretty upset about what happened at her condo. A woman living alone… He didn’t like her vulnerability with some freak on the loose. May as well address the elephant in the room.

“Is there anyone you’ve met since moving here that seemed off?”

Her expression didn’t so much as flicker, which told him her mind had been in the same place. She shook her head.

“I’ve been searching my brain. No one comes to mind. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened. No creepy vibes. No strange men following me.” She shrugged.

“All you can do at this point is be extra vigilant.” He wished he could offer her something more tangible.

“You’re right. It’s just so…I don’t know. Out of left field. I haven’t even lived here that long. This kind of stuff happens in the movies, to other people.”

Their food arrived and Grace poked at her steak, swirled the tines of fork in her mashed potatoes, stabbed a piece of lettuce, then set the fork down without taking a bite. He hated not knowing what to do and longed to find a way to comfort and reassure her. He’d dreamt about having her all to himself for months, and while he’d take it any way he could get it, knowing she was upset dimmed his pleasure. His mother had taught him that most women preferred a sympathetic ear to Mr. Fix It, but it was a difficult urge to resist.

Grace rubbed the back of her neck, cast him a soft smile, and began eating her meal. His shoulders relaxed.

Man, he had it bad.

Grace glanced up. “What made you get into construction?”

“My father was in the business, so I grew up around it. Starting up my own business was a natural extension. I just grew it bigger and better.”

Grace laughed. “Nothing wrong with your ego.”

“Hey, I won’t lie.” He grinned. “I’m proud of the company I’ve built from the ground up.”

“You have every reason to be proud of your accomplishments. What’s it feel like, when you’re driving around and look at a restaurant, a store, or someone’s home, and know you made that happen? You’ve left your fingerprint on this valley. That’s gotta feel good.”

He shrugged. No one had ever put it like that. She made him sound like more than he was, which felt damn good.

“I don’t think about it.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. The low neck of her sweater gaped and no force on earth could have stopped him from enjoying the view. Beautiful, smooth skin the color of fresh cream. The lace at the top of her bra was just visible. He jerked his gaze back to her face and shifted the napkin in his lap a little higher.

“How is that possible?”

“I guess when I see the buildings my crews have put up, I’m still looking at them with a critical eye. Either that, or they blend into the landscape. It’s just business.”

Obviously unable to comprehend his lack of emotional depth, she shook her head. Great. Now she was probably rating him alongside a caveman. Desperate to save her opinion of him, he racked his brain. And came up empty. He frowned. Was he really that lame?

“Well, I have no room to talk.” She sighed. “I’ve never created anything. I still think it’s awesome, being able to leave your mark on the world like you do. I’d love to be able to do that.”

Relief flowed. Admiration laced her voice. She sure made an impact with him, but he doubted she’d been referring to that kind of mark.

“You’re part of the machine that puts those buildings in the ground, you know.”

She tilted her head and stared at him. Having her undivided attention made his hands clammy. How could one woman make him feel like an awkward teenage boy? He could handle a room full of businessmen, the wealthy couple who thought they could have the world at a bargain and the contract gone bad, with ease. Sit a black-haired, green-eyed woman in front of him and his nerve went out the nearest window.

When it came to romancing a woman, he didn’t have a clue. If a woman wanted him, he’d never had to work for it. If she didn’t, why bother? It was the twenty-first century. Women were aggressive; they went after what they wanted.

Grace shrugged. “I may be a small part—very small, but it’s not the same. Still, I appreciate you saying so.”