Inked by an Angel by Shauna Allen Page B

from me? Do you want me to work at the firm with you?”
    He shoved his shirt into his pants as she flipped on the lamp. He squinted his eyes against the light and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. “That would be nice for now. This ridiculous excuse for a job you’ve got going now is embarrassing to the entire family. Surely you know that, Kyle.”
    Her heart began to pound as frustration morphed to red-hot anger, racing through her veins like lava. “Really?”
    His eyes flitted to the engagement ring on the bedside table then back to her face. He took a breath as he bent over and slid on his shoes. “Yes. Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be harsh. We’ve all allowed you your time to go find yourself , but it’s been long enough. It’s time to come back to the firm where you belong. Then, after the wedding, you can focus on other things.”
    Her hands started to tremble and furious tears pricked her eyes. “Other things?”
    “Yes.” He seemed relieved that she was finally seeing reason. “Our home. Our marriage.” He sat on the bed and took her hand. “Hopefully, our children.”
    Something inside of her snapped. She knew she wasn’t dead, but it was as if her life was flashing before her eyes—the life she had yet to live. The life she was running from. The life she was grieving. She had to act now or be a prisoner to her fate.
    She pulled her hand from his grasp with great care. Using all of her will power, she stood, unashamed of her nakedness, and channeled the strongest person she knew.
    With a trembling finger, she pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out.”
    With a heavy heart, Kyle called Michael to tell him she wouldn’t be able to make it in to the studio the next evening.
    “Is everything all right, Miz O’Neill?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.
    She flinched when Jed barked out something in the background. “Yes, Michael. Everything is fine. I’m just not feeling well tonight and I can do what needs to be done here at home with what I’ve got. It’s really not important for me to be there every night anyway. I only come because you insist,” she reminded him.
    He sighed. “Yes, I know. I’ve gotten spoiled having you so close by. It makes it pretty darn convenient for me. I’m sorry if I’ve taken you for granted.”
    The contrition in his voice almost made her relent. But she didn’t feel up to facing people tonight. Especially surly, sexy people. “It’s all right. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better soon. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
    “Sure. I hope you get to feeling better, Miz O’Neill. I’ll say my prayers for you.”
    She mumbled her thanks before hanging up. He’d pray for her? Somehow, the thought of big, bad Michael ‘The Angel’ Smith, kneeling in heartfelt prayer didn’t gel with her image of the man.
    She shrugged and tossed the phone down, hugging her robe tighter around her. She felt slightly sluggish having not changed from her pajamas yet, but damn it, she was moping! After Charles left last night, she’d been so wired on adrenalin from her little one-woman stand that she’d scarcely been able to sleep. The expression on his face had been priceless. Utter and complete shock. Disgust. Betrayal.
    He’d stormed out without another word, leaving her shaking like a leaf, but feeling like her life had just become her own again.
    But now, in the light of a new day, she realized that all she’d done was push him away for expecting of her what she’d allowed everyone to expect of her all her life. It wasn’t his fault. Not really. She would have to do some serious soul-searching and make some hard decisions soon. But did Charles consider their engagement off already because of her blow-up? In that case, at least that decision would be out of her hands. But, in any case, did she still want to marry him?
    Deep in her heart, she knew the answer to that. But did she have the guts to follow through on what that answer meant? Could she