Angel Hands by Cait Reynolds Read Free Book Online Page B

himself both stricken and renewed in his resolve to be the one to care for her, to bring her back from whatever land of sorrow that she dwelt in.
    She withdrew her hand from his and patted his arm in a maternal manner, saying, "I say this because you are a wonderful man, and you deserve someone as wonderful as you. Not a used-up spinster with a head for business."
    Raymond struggled with the aching desire to whisk her away from the opera house and take her somewhere safe where she would be sheltered and loved. He recaptured her hand and tried to speak, but no sound came.
    Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her lingeringly.
    "I know what I deserve," he whispered, then kissed her again. "And, I will give you all the time you need, if only you will give me a chance."
    Mireille sat as still as a statue, her eyes wide with shock. Raymond smiled and cupped her face in his hands. "My dearest friend," he whispered then kissed her again. Each kiss tasted better than the last, and he was quite certain that he would be very happy with a lifetime of such delicacies.
    He rose to his feet and said, "Rest for a bit. I am going to go get you a bit of food, and some wine to fortify you. You've been through too much, Mireille, and I won't have you wasting away on me."
     
    ***
     
    Once he left, Mireille raised a tentative hand to her lips and swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes. It was all too much, too much in the space of one day. Too much...too mu...
    She fell into a troubled doze.
    An hour later, Raymond escorted her back to her office, satisfied that she had eaten the plate of smoked ham, cheese, bread, and butter he brought her, and that she had drunk at least one glass of the strong red wine that returned a bit of color to her bloodless cheeks.
    He left a soft little kiss on her forehead and let her back into her office, then headed back to the rehearsals. Safely inside her modest office, Mireille leaned her back against the door and tried to pull herself together.
    The sight of her glasses, cleaned and neatly folded, left on the middle of her business desk did nothing to help with regaining her composure. Shakily, she crossed the room to pick them up and put them on.
    "Mireille," the disembodied voice seemed to shiver in the air around her, piercing her with its icy rage. "You are mine!"
    "I am no one's!" she spat into the emptiness.
    "You belong to me now."
    "No, I don't!"
    "Yes...you do."
    Unable to stand any more, Mireille turned and fled her office, past the startled maids, the confused clerks, and the nonplussed foyer staff.
    When she had reached the comfort of her father’s home, she locked herself in her bedroom and threw herself onto the bed.
    For the first time in nine years, Mireille Dubienne cried.
     
     
     

 
     
    8. Of Wishes and Fishes
     
     
    "This dance number is not quite right."
    Mireille said nothing, not even intimating, by a silent sigh, that she had an opinion one way or another. She didn't even glance at Raymond. She didn't have to. She knew exactly what he was thinking at Charles Carcasonne's fatuous critiques.
    "And what is wrong with it in your view, Monsieur Carcasonne?" Raymond asked politely. Mireille found herself grudgingly admiring his endless politeness and patience. By that point, after six hours of rehearsals and critiques, she would have had little compunction in calling Carcasonne various names of varying degrees of villainy.
    "It needs to be more...sensual," Carcasonne replied, absently flicking a speck of imaginary dust off of the pristine top hat in his lap.
    Mireille nearly gagged at the way he said that word, all sorts of malevolent and revolting images of Carcasonne being "sensual" rolling about in her imagination. Still, she neither moved nor showed any sign of caring. She simply sat by herself in the row across from Raymond and Carcasonne, watching one of the first full rehearsals of the most anticipated opera of the season.
    "Then again,