Angel Hands by Cait Reynolds Read Free Book Online Page A

look so pale. What happened?"
    "N...nothing."
    "NOTHING?"
    "I...went looking for something, and I must have...fainted."
    He shook his head. This woman would be the death of herself without someone to take care of her. Carefully, he placed the back of his hand against her forehead, then against her cheek.
    "You are cold as ice! When did you eat last?"
    "Are you my artistic director or my mother?" Mireille harrumphed, but her attempt at bravado sounded thin and exhausted.
    The inexplicable need to watch over her suddenly resolved itself into clarity. He bent his head until his forehead rested against hers. "I...care about what happens to you, Mireille."
    He was rewarded by a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. It was only a glimpse before she reassumed her mask of hard self-sufficiency.
    "That is kind of you, Raymond," she replied. "I think I have just forgotten to eat."
    He studied her, his heart thudding thunderously in his chest. He now knew why he found himself endlessly fascinated and intensely attracted to this cold, ordinary-looking woman. It was the fact she was so hard, yet her eyes could be so soft. It was the odd moment, now and then, when he caught her looking sad and tired when she thought no one was watching her. She was unlike any other woman he had ever known—smart, steely, wily, tough, and utterly desirable because of it.
    She was neither a great naïve beauty, nor was she a painted diva, but those greenish hazel eyes could wreck havoc with a man’s heart, especially when she wasn’t wearing glasses. Wait, he had never seen her without her spectacles.
    "Where are your glasses?" he asked softly, lightly caressing her cheek. He was startled to see a look of utter panic flit across her face.
    "I must have lost them when I fainted," she replied hurriedly.
    She attempted to back out of his embrace, but that was exactly contrary to all his policies.
    "You are not well," Raymond asserted, sweeping her up into his arms. "I'm going to take care of you."
    "I don't need—"
    "I think you do."
    "No, I do—"
    "Don't argue with me," he said with a smile as he carried her towards the dressing rooms. "I can't have our manager falling ill or fainting when we have a thrice-damned production to get on with."
    He pushed open one of the dressing rooms and walked inside. He laid her down on the divan and knelt beside her, brushing a few errant strands of hair off her forehead. He noticed that she closed her eyes at his touch, almost as if she was in pain, but the sadness in the lines around her mouth told him that it was a pain of a more intimate and less physical kind.
    “Do you need your spectacles?” he asked. “Shall I send someone to try and find them?”
    She chuckled, her eyes still closed. “No, indeed, do not bother. They are not necessary.”
    “I’m confused. Why would you wear them, then?”
    She sobered, opened her eyes, and tried to sit up. He pressed her back down against the pillows, and she gave in, no doubt too weak to protest more forcibly.
    “I find it easier to be taken seriously if I wear spectacles,” she said. “Men are more likely to forget I am a woman, and therefore, they are more apt to heed my advice.”
    "There isn't a soul here in this opera house that doesn't respect you for your abilities, regardless of your sex...or your glasses," Raymond said warmly, taking her hand in his and chafing it..
    Mireille opened her mouth to protest then shut it and tried to smile.
    "You needn't be so nice to me, Raymond."
    "I want to be. I...I want to be your friend, Mireille...your dearest friend."
    "Don't!"
    Raymond pulled back, startled. "I… I'm sorry...I didn't..."
    Mireille sat up and looked him straight in the eye.
    "No, do not be sorry," she said, her expression gentle but serious. "I tell you that you cannot be more than my colleague because, well, it's for your own good. I cannot be with anyone. There are very good reasons for this. You must trust me. Leave it at that."
    At her words, he found