Night Angel Read online

  * * *

  Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company

  www.blackvelvetseductions.com

  Copyright ©2009 by Renee Reeves

  First published in 2009, 2009

  * * *

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

  * * *

  CONTENTS

  ISBN 978-0-9802246-3-4

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Renee Reeves

  Available Now From From Black Velvet Seductions

  * * * *

  Night Angel

  Renee Reeves

  ISBN 978-0-9802246-3-4

  Copyright 2009 Renee Reeves

  Cover Art Copyright 2009 by Richard Savage

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  All characters in this book are completely fictional. They exist only in the imagination of the author. Any similarity to any actual person or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Published 2009 Printed by Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company in the United States of America

  Visit us at: www.blackvelvetseductions.com

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  To my husband Preston; for being supportive and working hard so that I could have the time to follow my dream (whether he likes the content of the book or not), and to my mother, Carole, for being the greatest mom in the world.

  www.blackvelvetseductions.com

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  Keeping an eye on the sideview mirror and steady light pressure on the truck's gas pedal Nick smoothly backed the silver two-horse trailer into the small opening of the round pen. His brother, Jake, stood next to the corral fence, frowning and staring at the trailer. Each kick from the horse inside rocked the trailer side to side. Nick shifted the truck into park but kept his foot on the brake and then waved his arm out of the drivers’ side window to get his brother's attention.

  "He's not tied so when you open the door be ready to get the hell out of the way,” he shouted.

  Jake nodded, then squeezed between the fence and the trailer and Nick heard the harsh clangs of numerous locks being thrown. A loud squealing of metal hinges sounded, combining with the clattering of sharp hooves. The horse let out a high-pitched scream before jolting the trailer up and down as the animal lunged out of the trailer. Nick heard the trailer door slam shut and put the truck into drive, pulling the rig quickly away so Jake could close the corral gate. He pulled the truck and trailer around to the side of the barn, then came back to stand beside Jake, who stood with his elbows and one booted foot propped on the corral railing, watching with narrowed eyes as the horse careened around the enclosure.

  "Jesus Christ, Nick.” Jake's usually level voice was hard. “The bastard that did this should have been shot."

  "Trust me, I was tempted."

  "There's not an inch on him that's not scarred. Even his ears. How the hell did you get close enough to get the halter on him?"

  Nick sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “I tranqed him with the dart gun. Hated to do it, but it was the only way.” He clucked and the big-boned quarter horse draft cross twitched his ears towards him. For a second Nick saw something soft flicker in the horse's eyes, but then it was gone and the madness was back. Lowering his head the horse charged to the center of the enclosure and struck out aggressively with both front legs.

  "Looks like it's worn off though."

  Jake snorted, watching the gelding's dramatic display. “Ya think?” He double checked the latch on the pen gate, “You've got your work cut out for you with this one, Nick, maybe more than you realize. I hope he's worth it."

  Nick looked into huge brown eyes, seeing nothing but fear and distrust, but he also saw beneath the scars and misbehavior to the proud beauty the horse had probably been before he'd been bought and misused by a cruel owner.

  "They're always worth it, Jake."

  * * * *

  The hairs on the back of Nick's neck prickled and he reined to a halt just outside of the hidden copse.

  She was here again.

  He exhaled silently, ignoring his now racing heart. Moving carefully he dismounted and ground tied his horse, knowing the abundance of grass would keep the animal quiet and satisfied. Stepping off the path he moved quickly to the shelter of a huge Hemlock tree and relaxed against its trunk, crossing his arms over his chest. The moon was full overhead but shadows cast by the enormous, low-hanging limbs would keep him hidden from her view. The low gurgling of the stream she sat beside would absorb any slight noise.

  God she was beautiful.

  Wrapped in a light-colored shawl because of the cool night she sat at the edge of his stream, knees drawn up to her chin, dangling a leafy vine in the water, completely oblivious to his presence. Thick dark hair trailed loosely down her back and Nick saw that a portion of it was trapped beneath her. Modern women just did not have hair like that, not without hundreds of dollars worth of styling help. Gut instinct told him that the gorgeous mass cascading to the ground was real. Nick could almost feel the silky-smooth texture of it trailing over his jaw and across his chest as her mouth moved down to his stomach, his abs...

  Shit ... He shifted slightly, trying to ease the sudden heaviness in his groin.

  She sighed, turning her head slightly in his direction and resting her right cheek against her knees. Moonlight painted her skin so translucent it appeared lit from within. She had a fragile bone structure, sweet, very delicate features; high forehead, dark arching brows and eyes a color he couldn't make out ... Full, sensuous lips had him clenching his jaw against a groan of intense longing.

  She shivered and wrapped her shawl more tightly around her, but her small shoulders continued to tremble. Nick frowned; the thought of her being cold bothered him, although why he should care was beyond him. After all, she was trespassing on his land, invading his private domain.

  And he didn't give a shit.

  He wanted to take her in his arms. Share his body heat until both of them were burning.

  The urge was insane. Coming out here in the middle of the night just to see her was insane.

  She walks in beauty, like the night ... The words popped into his mind, a poem he had heard once but damned if he remembered where or when. Most likely from a movie, since reading poetry was not high on his list of good times, although he had to admit that the line was certainly beautiful ... like her. Nick rolled his eyes at himself; waxing poetic at his age wasn't a ver
y good sign.

  Soft undulations reached his ears. Humming. She was humming, for Christ's sake. Low, slightly husky, the soothing rhythm floated to him, vaguely foreign sounding. Sort of like a lullaby. Leaning towards the stream she plucked a blade of grass from between two rocks and ran the tip of it around her open palm, following the outline of each finger with the slender blade. Long, slow, stroking caresses. Up, down, and around. His throat tightened and his fingers clenched tightly against the wave of lust that gripped him. He imagined her hands upon his skin, slowly caressing ... and then her lips following their path downward...

  Suddenly she froze, her hum cut off in midstream. The blade of grass fell forgotten to the ground as she subtly cocked her head to one side, listening.

  Muscles tensing, Nick wrapped his palm around the hilt of his knife. He stood tense, ready for trouble until she finally relaxed and focused her gaze on something near the water. Soon he was able to see what had her attention. A black-crowned night heron had landed in the stream about thirty feet from where she sat, an unlucky fish dangling from his wet beak. She smiled at the bird, a truly genuine smile that dimpled her cheek and flashed small white teeth. Nick caught his breath—He wanted her smiling at him that way, pure, open and trusting. Jesus! What the hell is wrong with me? Now I'm jealous of a damn bird!

  Spreading its wings the heron flew away to enjoy its prize and with childlike enthusiasm she busied herself digging in her pack, pulling out a sketchpad and pencil and beginning to draw by moonlight. The pencil moved quick and sure and Nick guessed she was capturing her memory of the bird while still fresh. He craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of her drawing.

  Oh Christ! His mouth went dry when in one of the most unintentionally seductive displays he had ever seen, she stood and used both hands to massage her butt, arching her back and causing her breasts to thrust out against her shawl. Full and natural, they were more than enough to fill his hands and more than made up for her lack of stature. She might be small but she had more than enough to satisfy him. Her wetdream hair fell long and wavy down her back, past her thighs to almost touch the ground. Her soft appreciative sigh as the stretch loosened tight muscles reached him all the way across the clearing and he bit back a growl.

  He wanted her now; soft and wet, stretched out naked in his bed, up against the wall; bent over a chair with her ass in the air, or hell, out here would do just fine too.

  He sucked in a deep breath, knowing he was in deep shit when the flood gate of erotic images opened. When it came to her his body seriously outruled his brain, and if he had to endure much more of this torture he was definitely going to explode.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 2

  Morgan stood slowly, balancing herself with a palm against a nearby tree. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she groaned, biting her lip as her cramped and kinked muscles gave and stretched. Seeing the bird had been so exciting that she had forgotten to massage and stretch her leg, and had been sitting, caught up in sketching, for far too long. Hesitantly, afraid to move too suddenly, Morgan leaned back against the tree, glad for its rough support while she waited on her leg to relax and be able to take her weight. Finally the cramping eased and she could stand on her own. The walk home would be slow, especially since she had to carry her full backpack, and she dreaded the night to come. She bent to grab her pack, gasping as a sharp pain jerked her back upright. After a moment she tried again, this time successfully.

  "Well,” she grumbled while adjusting the pack onto her shoulder, “you did it to yourself, Morgan. At least you have a few painkillers left.” The tiny pills were in the bottle on the nightstand beside her bed. She hadn't taken one in over a week, preferring to just cope with the constant, dull ache in her hip and thigh, but tonight because of her overexertion she knew she would not be able to rest without them.

  She sighed, absorbing the dark, glistening beauty of the stream and surrounding thicket of trees with their huge, weighted branches and thick egg-shaped cones. She loved it here. For some reason the place made her feel safe, protected ... embraced. Nothing could hurt her here.

  She liked to pretend she had entered a long forgotten realm, one where time and reality ceased to exist and it was only her and the creatures of nature. It was a completely different world. One where her past did not matter and she was safe.

  Safe. The word had been a mantra in her brain for a long time now. No more holding her breath and walking on tiptoes, dreading what would happen if that fourth stair squeaked and she woke him up. Finally she was alone and safe.

  She glanced around; taking in the crumbling, moss covered faded grey bricks of a long abandoned wall behind her. Vines grew up the inside of it, reaching towards the bright moonlight overhead. It had been the first thing she had sketched when she had happened upon this place several nights ago during her walk. Everything had looked so beautiful that night, more ... serene. She loved the quiet, the solitude, the moon's gentle light. Most people loved the sun, lived their lives in its shining rays and she had been no different ... but that had been in her previous life. The life before her accident. Now ... now she loved the night, with its concealing shadows and forgiving darkness.

  Her cousin Lisa had been right in convincing her to find a new life for herself. Trying to escape the memories had caused her to move from Chicago to wide-open Montana. But leaving the memories behind had been impossible. There were still times when she woke up screaming from one of the nightmares, and the pain in her leg and hip were constant reminders. Not to mention her face. She had almost—but not quite—gotten over her hatred of mirrors. It was not their fault they told the truth. And one could never avoid the truth for long, no matter how hard they tried.

  But at least she had her freedom and finally her own place.

  Morgan smiled, remembering Lisa's excitement that night in Chicago when she had found the small cottage on the internet...

  "It's absolutely perfect, Morgan! Look!"

  "Just a second, the popcorn's almost ready.” Morgan grabbed an ovenmit from the counter and then opened the microwave door, inhaling the strong aroma of freshly popped cheese popcorn.

  "Come on!” Lisa called. “It even has a barn. You always wanted a horse."

  Morgan rolled her eyes and set the steaming container on the stool next to her cousin. “Yes, when I was seven and still believed in Santa Clause. I've grown up since then.” She sat down and watched as Lisa scrolled the mouse across the page, then clicked on a picture. At first all she saw were mountains broadcast against a bright blue sky ... and then the picture finished loading.

  "Oh...” she breathed, “it's so beautiful..."

  Lisa grinned, “Cheap too."

  Situated on four acres of land and surrounded by forest the small cream-colored cottage looked like something out of a children's storybook. The three rail wood fencing looked on the verge of falling down, but the old barn behind the house looked in reasonably good condition. Morgan closed her eyes, picturing newly planted flowers under each of the windows, and maybe a swing hung from the roof of the front porch ... the isolating woods would be filled with singing birds and she could sit forever and just listen ... and sketch...

  Lisa grabbed the phone off its cradle beside the computer and shoved it at her. “Call the realtor, right now, before someone else grabs this."

  Morgan glanced at the clock. Darn. “It's after midnight, Lisa."

  "So? They have answering machines. Call and leave a message or I will.” Lisa pushed the phone into her limp hand and dialed the number on the screen. “Don't let this pass you by Morgan, start living your dreams."

  And so after a long flight to see the property in person she had signed all of the paperwork. A week later she put her husband's glass and steel monstrosity on the market, hired a moving company, loaded her little Volvo station wagon to its limit and never looked back. Twelve-hundred miles and a load of worries and her dream had become reality.

  A branch cracked, jerking Morgan b
ack to the present. She glanced around but saw nothing but tree limbs moving with a slight breeze. She shivered, noticing that the temperature had dropped a few degrees and pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

  She sighed deeply. Moving here had been her first grab at recovery, but she knew deep inside that she may never be fully healed; the trauma and humiliation ran way too deep. The knowledge that there were indeed evil people in the world had been made very clear to her, over and over again. And the things she had done ... her throat tightened and she swiped at her eyes, wiping away the sudden tears that once started would go on until depression had her so weakened that she locked herself in her room, hiding away from her new life and letting him take control once more. She sucked in a big breath, held it for a moment and then exhaled slowly.

  Wasted years, all of them.

  Out of habit she pulled several thick pieces of hair over her shoulder until the right side of her face was covered then slowly limped to the path behind the stone wall and into the woods toward the trail home.

  * * * *

  "Heard Eliza Ramsey's place was sold."

  Nick glanced up from the bin of nails. Ben, the owner of Grenners’ Feed and Hardware, the only hardware store in town, was standing beside him, an obvious question in his old blue eyes.

  He shrugged his shoulders, knowing the old man was one step away from talking his ear off. “I guess, saw a moving truck there last week or so."

  "Come on, Nick. Ramsey's place is right behind yours. How can you not be interested in what's goin’ on or who's goin’ to live there?"

  Nick sighed in irritation; he really did not need Ben hounding him this early in the morning. “First, it's none of my business; people come and go all the time and I could care less. Second, it's on the other side of my woods, completely out of view, so it's not like I'll have an immediate neighbor I have to associate with. And thank God for that.” Yeah right, Nick. Long dark hair, a ‘take your sweet time and kiss me all over figure' ... One look from your new neighbor and you'd be standing on her front porch with roses in hand, hoping to do more than just ‘associate'. Annoyed at his wayward thoughts Nick focused on the task at hand which was picking out the nails he would need to fix the board that Sultan had kicked out of the back wall of his stall. “You know as long as nobody messes with me I mind my own business."