Losing Angeline: London Calling Book Two by Kat Faitour Read Free Book Online

the slightly built man watching them from across the cobbled street. And neither felt the vitriolic hate burning from the man’s dead brown eyes.
    ***
    Angeline scooped out a mussel using the empty shell of another as a pincer. She lifted the plump flesh to her lips, savoring the saffron scented broth clinging to it before sinking her teeth into the chewy meat.
    John groaned.
    Her eyes shot up from where they’d been contemplating which seafood morsel she’d next sample from her exquisite bouillabaisse. “John? What is it?”
    He shifted in his seat, and she felt his knees crowd hers beneath the white linen draped table. He looked around the dimly lit bistro with its red brick, zinc-topped bar and dark wood panels before turning back to her. Leaning toward her, he whispered across the small high-walled booth they shared. “I’m hard as a rock.”
    Angeline brought one hand to her mouth, manicured fingers pressing back the giggle he provoked. “John,” she hissed. The grin tugging the corners of her mouth betrayed her scandalized protest.  
    His eyes crinkled with shared humor. “Well, you know what watching you eat does to me.”
    Angeline daintily dabbed her mouth with her napkin before raising slumberous eyes to meet his. “I’m not sure,” she batted her eyes. “Why don’t you remind me?”
    He waved his index finger, tutting. “Uh-uh. You transformed me into a man of culture, able to restrain his baser appetites.” He winked. “At least until later when I have you naked and desperate under me.”
    A wave of heat engulfed Angeline and she felt an accompanying blush warm her cheeks. “Honestly, you have no shame.”
    “And aren’t you glad I don’t? Otherwise, I might be too shy to take full advantage when I have you splayed out—”  
    His words were cut off as Angeline connected her stiletto with the arch of his foot. She smiled, supremely uncaring in the face of his wincing pain. “Will you be having dessert?”  
    “Oh yes, Lean. But you surely know that.” Wicked devilry danced in his misty eyes. “Have I not made that clear?”
    She gave up. When he looked at her with his special combination of erotic intensity and raw adoration, she had no resistance. She pressed her hand over his where it lay between them on the table. “Oh, I’m clear, darling. So in the spirit of mutual understanding, maybe we should pick up the pace a bit? Box our dinners and ask for the check? We can eat leftovers in bed later.” His gaze smoldered. “Much later.”
    John surprised her by taking a deep breath and leaning back against the deep red leather of the booth. “No.”
    Open-mouthed, she repeated him, sure she’d heard wrong. “No?”
    He smiled, but she saw a muscle bunch in his jaw. Sliding his hand free from hers, he picked up his knife and fork to resume eating his coq au vin. “No.”
    She exhaled, abruptly slouching away in an uncharacteristic display of bad posture. “Why not?” He never rejected her. Never .
    “Because, my love, it is our anniversary tomorrow. You have given me seven years of the most incredible joy a man could ask for.”
    She straightened, opening her mouth to speak but he held up his fork, interrupting her.
    “We are going to act like civilized adults. We will eat our dinner and share a dessert with coffee.”
    Angeline nodded primly in agreement.  
    “And later, much later…” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and removed a long, slender box. “You will put this on for me.” With one finger, he pushed the box across the table toward her.  
    She pulled the box closer, slowly bringing it to rest beside her plate. Carefully, she untied the deep brown satin ribbon from around the box. She glanced up at John in question.  
    He leaned back, bracing an arm on the padded seat in a seemingly relaxed pose. Angeline saw him thrum his fingers, once then again before he caught himself. He lifted his chin at her, indicating she proceed.
    She gently removed the