MONTANA SKY 07.5: Angel In Paradise (2 page)

Figures.

“Harry Flanigan stipulated in his will that if Rafe didn’t return home within six months of his death, as well as sign the agreements for future arrangements about the estate, the ranch would be sold to the McCurdy’s.”

“What!” The word burst out of her. “I can’t believe he’d do that!”

“It’s Harry’s way to force Rafe to bow to his will, even after he’s dead.”

“And what about Gabe?”

“Gabe will lose the ranch he’s worked on all his life. He’ll see his family’s land go to their rivals.”

Rivals.
More like
enemies
. “Rafe couldn’t possibly want that…. But Harry hated Old Man McCurdy.”

“If Arn McCurdy hadn’t died before him, I don’t think even Harry would have gone this far.”

“I can’t believe he’d do such a thing.”

“I tried to dissuade him, Angel. But Harry Flanigan had a bull-headed need to control his grandsons…well, control everyone around him. I’ll require Rafe’s signature, already have Gabe’s, to avoid the ranch falling into McCurdy hands. You know what a disaster that would be.”

The Flanigans weren’t the only ones who’d carried old generational wounds caused by the McCurdys. Some acts, even after more than a hundred years, would never fade from her family history.

Her father sighed. “Dustin McCurdy is talking with a developer, who plans to cut their ranch into little parcels and throw up a lot of cheap houses. The plan’s not well received by most in town. If the McCurdys also get their hands on the Flanigan land….”

She thought of the pristine, beautiful place where she’d fallen in love with Rafe.
The secret waterfall, a Flanigan treasure exposed to all and sundry….

Angelina’s mind reeled. She was unable to wrap her thoughts around what a disaster this would be for the brothers…for the boy she’d once loved.

“I’d go myself, Angel, but the doctors won’t let me out of this place.”

Just thinking of her father flying to Florida in his condition made her blood run cold, spurring her grudging agreement. “All right.”

“I knew I could count on you!” His voice sounded stronger.

Angelina wondered if she’d just been played.

“You’ll find the plane ticket with the documents. You’d better get going, Angel. The flight leaves in three hours.”

Three hours!
Angelina held in a shriek.

“Thanks, Angel Baby.” Her dad hung up before she could protest.

Angelina glanced at her Rolex. At this time of the day, she’d need an hour, maybe more, just to get to the airport. She didn’t even have time to change. Grabbing her roomy leather briefcase from underneath her desk, she slid in her father’s envelope, adding some of her own paperwork for good measure.
Might as well work on the plane.
She tucked her small purse in the corner.

She looked around the room and caught sight of her gym bag on a bottom shelf, holding her workout clothes. She unzipped the top and pulled out shorts, sports bra, an extra pair of panties, socks, tennis shoes, and a couple of protein bars, and tossed them into her brief case, arranging everything to fit—barely.

I can do this.
Angelina gave herself a pep talk, but had trouble believing her own words. She took a deep breath, then strode out the door to meet with the man who’d broken her heart fifteen years earlier.

His feet propped on his desk, working on his tablet, feeling the breeze from the half-open door, Rafe didn’t pay any attention to the familiar sound of the gate opening. But the click of high heels on the boardwalk outside the office did catch his interest. Not too many ladies visited the livery stables wearing heels. He set his tablet aside.

The woman walked to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside into a pillar of sunlight. She wore business clothes and carried a black briefcase. He had to blink several times to make sure she wasn’t a figment of one of his fantasies, conjured up by those damn letters from Sweetwater Springs.

She’s real, all right.
Rafe tried to conceal his shock over seeing Angelina Elizabeth Carter Howard all grown up and standing in front of him, more vivid than any of his dreams of her. He’d shoved the memory of their young love, along with everyone and everything in Sweetwater Springs, into a small mental box that he kept locked. But he couldn’t control what happened when he slept….

The light played over her curves and revealed the expression of annoyance on her beautiful features. Her oval face, with the high cheekbones, was the same as in his dreams—perfect features, golden skin courtesy of her part Sioux grandmother and her African-American great-great-grandfather, except for some fine lines around her big whiskey-golden eyes. He was glad to see she hadn’t cut her long curly hair, which she wore up in a bun with two sticks through it.

Fifteen years hadn’t changed her much—filled her out some—which was all to the better. At eighteen, she hadn’t lost her adolescent coltishness, but now…. With a black jacket tucked under one arm, her purple sleeveless blouse showed trim, smooth arms and her black several-inches-above-the knee short skirt and high-heeled pumps revealed long legs. He’d seen her in less—bathing suits when all the kids came over to the ranch to swim on hot summer days, the tiny bikini she’d worn on the day he’d taken her to the Flanigan waterfall before all hell had broken loose…. But not with a woman’s figure.

The sight of her sent a buzz of attraction through his body. Rafe wanted to jump up and hug her hello, then kiss her like crazy and sweep her off to his house on the beach. But the fact that Angel Howard, the descendent of generations of lawyers…. He eyed her business attire, the leather briefcase—hell, she was probably an attorney herself, just like she’d planned. That didn’t bode well for his peace of mind.

So, he restrained himself, giving her a purposely lazy smile. “Hello, Angel Howard. Vacationing on Seeker’s Island, are you?”

“Do I look like I’m playing tourist, Raphael Flanigan?” she said with a snap to her tone.

“Well,” he drawled, baiting her for the pleasure of watching her color rise. “You do look a might overdressed for our little island. I hope you brought a bikini. I recall you looking mighty sexy in one. Why don’t you go change, and we’ll—.”

“I’m quite comfortable, thank you,” she said crisply, pulling a folder from her briefcase. “I’ve brought something for you to sign. “

Yep, part of the family business.

“As soon as you do, I’ll be out of your life.”

Maybe I don’t want you out of my life.
The thought shocked him. To buy himself time, Rafe held up a hand in a stopping motion. “I’m not signing anything.”

“But, Rafe, this is important. Your family—”

“I don’t want to hear about it. Not one more word, Angel. Or I’ll toss you out of here on your pretty little ass.”

“My ass isn’t little,” she muttered.

“Turn around and let me see.” He made a twirling motion with his finger.

Pink flooded her dusky cheeks.

Well, one thing hadn’t changed. Rafe could still make her blush. The rose color seeping into her skin did something to his innards—an effect she’d often had on him. He wrenched his gaze from her and stared blindly out the window, memories and old longings flooding him.
God help me. Now that she’s here, I can’t let her go again.

~~~

At the first sight of her former love, Angel caught her breath on a skipped heartbeat.

Rafe wore a loud Hawaiian shirt patterned with hibiscus flowers, shorts, and flip-flops. His dark hair was long and loose to his shoulders, and he looked like a throwback to the photo of his great-great grandfather Seth Flanigan that hung in the town library.

He sat in a chair, his long, tanned legs stretched out on top of the desk, looking at a view of the ocean instead of at her. Granted the view was a beautiful sight, but Angelina didn’t have time to wait. She wanted to be on the next ferry off the island, signed documents in hand.

At Rafe’s bikini comment, she struggled to suppress the sudden memory of them swimming in the icy pool at the bottom of Flanigan Falls, their passionate embraces. “Rafe,” she said, keeping her tone even. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy.”

“You don’t look busy,” she said with a pointed look at his legs.

“I’m working.”

He might be right. In school, Rafe was prone to stare out the window during most of class. She couldn’t even count the times an exasperated teacher would snap a question at him, and Rafe would fire off the correct answer, then return to window gazing. She’d always admired his nonchalant attitude. But now, hot and sticky, overdressed in her suit, she felt a belated sympathy for their teachers and made a mental note to send them all cards of appreciation when she returned to New York.

The phone on his desk rang. Rafe ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

He didn’t even look away from the window. “No.”

“Why not?”

“If it’s important, they’ll leave a message. I might, or might not, listen and get back to them…eventually.”

No wonder he hadn’t returned Dad’s calls.
She gave an exacerbated shake of her head. “I can’t believe you.”

He flicked her a glance. His face was leaner than he’d been at eighteen, more chiseled. His eyes, those Flanigan eyes, gray with a black circle around the irises, looked inscrutable, although his tone sounded friendly.

Inexplicably, Angelina missed the affection she’d always seen when he’d looked at her—at least, when they’d grown old enough to have a crush on each other.

She glanced toward the cubbyholes on the side wall above his desk and saw a stack of familiar envelopes. Annoyed, Angelina walked to them, heels clicking on the white tiled floor, and pulled out the envelopes. A glance revealed her father’s stationery. She waved them in his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t at least open these so you’d know
what
you’re ignoring.”

“Not interested.” His gaze heated, traveled over her.

But he’s definitely interested in me.
Angelina wondered if she could use that to her advantage—charm the signature out of him.

“I’m serious, Angel.” He softened his voice. “Why don’t you stay a while? Look at you,” he said gently. “You look stressed out and pale.”

“Raphael Flanigan,” she said in a warning tone. “I don’t have time for this. I have to get back to my office in New York.”

“New York?” he said, surprise in his tone.

“I work for Elland & Kirkus. I’m here as a favor for my father.”

“No wonder you’re so pale. What do you work? Sixty hours a week?”

Her laugh held no humor. “More like eighty.”

“What happened to working with your father?”

“I became ambitious.”
And look where it got me.

~~~

Rafe had distanced himself from memories of Angelina, or so he’d thought. When he’d left Sweetwater Springs, almost a year had passed before he’d reconciled himself to the idea she’d cut him off; more years than that to get over the hurt. But seeing a flash of pain in her eyes at the mention of her job softened him. He wasn’t about to sign those papers, but Rafe sensed Angel needed Seeker’s Island. “Sounds like you’ve come to the right place,” he said in a light tone. “Do you know we have a magical pool on this island?” Not that he believed the tale. But he needed to do something about her sadness. “Grants your wishes.”

“Rafe, be serious. I have to get back.”

“All right, not your
wishes
, your
heart’s desires
. And not to everyone. Just
special
people.” He slung his feet off the desk and stood. “I’ll take you for a drive, Angel. On Seeker’s Island, we don’t talk business until after the sun sets.”

Angel glanced at her watch.

Rafe could almost see the wheels turning in her brain as Angel estimated how long she needed to persuade him to sign her paperwork.
You’re in for a long stay, Angel Baby
. But he knew better than to say anything. He’d have to toss out breadcrumbs in such a way as to make Miss Smarty Lawyer fall for his trick. For although he didn’t want to examine why, Rafe wanted to keep her here.

Angelina closed the door to the bathroom, shutting out the sight of Rafe. She leaned back against the wood to catch her breath and still her heartbeat where that infuriating man couldn’t see the impact he had on her. The bathroom was surprisingly roomy, with a white quartz counter edged in navy-blue tile, over a mahogany cabinet containing an oval sink, and a toilet in one corner and a shower in the other.

I’m still dangerously attracted to him.

That thought was enough to make Angelina push away from the door and strive for control—or at least a semblance of control. After Rafe had left her, she’d worked too long and too hard healing the aching wound he’d dealt her heart—trying to, if not forget, then file him away.

I’m here on business. As soon as Rafe signs those papers, I’m leaving.

She set her briefcase on the sink.
Might as well get comfortable.
Casual and relaxed might work better with Rafe than formal lawyer.
Not that I can relax around him.

Stepping out of her heels with a sigh of relief, Angelina stripped off her clothing and neatly folded the suit, leaving them on the counter. The cool tile soothed her sore feet. She donned her shorts and a tank, then pulled on the ankle socks and tennis shoes.