Summer Of My Secret Angel (22 page)

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Authors: Anna Katmore

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #adventure, #cancer, #fantasy, #paranormal, #sad, #france, #angel, #redemption, #contemporary, #teen, #london, #sarcasm, #first kiss, #first love, #best friend, #mother daughter, #play with me, #piper shelly

BOOK: Summer Of My Secret Angel
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Helplessly, I stared after my aunt while
Valentine continued her French monologue. It took her almost five
minutes to realize no one answered her. Confused, she glanced to
all sides. Her gaze focused on me. The grin of a happy farmer
curved her mouth.

Very much to my surprise, she returned to
her task and continued rambling. Just to make her happy, and maybe
because I had no one else to talk to, I filled her brief gaps with
ahs
and
ohs
. Sometimes I would even ask, “Is that
so?” or “Really?” But she understood me as little as I understood
her.

The silence when she finally stopped talking
actually felt weird. So in a funny mood, I told her about London in
my language. I explained the location of the orphanage and detailed
how Miss Mulligan had let us attend the celebrations in the street
when Prince William and Kate married last April. Valentine’s
ahs
and
ohs
filled my gaps now and made me chuckle,
propelling me to continue my babbling.

Straightening once to ease the pain in my
back, I caught a glimpse of Julian only a few feet away. A pair of
sheers still clutched in his hand, he stood as if frozen in time
and stared at us with narrowed eyes. Easy to imagine how our
conversation must have intrigued him. City lass and countrywoman
finding a way to communicate.

A weak smile pulled at the corners of my
mouth. The first twitch of his lips after three days kick-started
my heart into pounding with joy. His attention was little, though.
With a sigh, he twisted and trudged off.

Wednesday, I sought his nearness
purposefully, hoping he would say something at last if only I stood
close enough for a while. Again, he wouldn’t speak to me. But his
returning glances didn’t escape me.

Sometimes, he looked away quickly when I
caught his gaze on me. Other times he would just fix me with his
stare.

Needless to mention that his awkward
behavior freaked me out. I decided to confront him later and set
things straight between us once and for all.

In the late afternoon, a heavy downpour
washed away our plans to work in the field and sent us inside
sooner than usual. I showered and dressed in blue jeans and a dark
blue tee from Marie’s selection then peeked out on the balcony.

Tock-tock
, fat drops tapped a
romantic rhythm on the wood. Thick gray clouds hovered low. Not
even seven o’clock, it was dark like bedtime. Light burned in
Julian’s room and illuminated the balcony through his opened door,
but there was no sign of him outside.

“Julian?” I said, but he didn’t hear me
through the rain. If he did, however, he refused to appear on the
balcony.

Crap
. We really needed to get this
straight. Now.

Back shoving against the doorframe, I slowly
made a step outside. Fear slammed into me like a baseball bat from
the shadows. The wood creaked under my weight and I sent a silent
Ave Maria
to heaven. My teeth crunched as I inhaled three
times deeply through my nose. My eyes fluttered shut. Then I shoved
my left leg in the direction of Julian’s room. Dragging the right
behind, I flattened my back and hands against the solid wall.

It would have been easier to take a walk
down the corridor and knock on his door. But somehow it seemed
important to approach him this way. Like I’d prove myself worthy by
facing the danger on my conquest of his castle
.

As I inched forward, the rough surface of
the wall yanked hair from my scalp. Thin slits between the
footboards allowed a glimpse of the pebbled ground underneath. If
this weak illusion of a porch broke underneath my weight, I’d make
a breakneck dive into death.

Just freaking wonderful.

“Julian,” I whined. But when I angled my
head to the left his empty doorway mocked me from miles away.
“Lord, please let me survive this.” I swallowed hard at the panic
in my chest then shoved my foot another step to the left. And
another.

Through the thick curtains of rain, I
glimpsed a dark ball, growing as it shot toward me. I froze. As a
big raven flapped its wings excitedly and landed on the railing of
the balcony, my shriek ripped through the air.


Argh
! Gosh!” It took me several
breaths to calm down enough to lower my arms from protecting my
head. “You bloody…
filthy…
beast!”

The damn bird only cocked its wet head and
fluffed up its dripping feathers. To my hoarse shooing sounds, the
raven finally took off into the rain again, giving me another start
as the wings fluttered like those of a bat.

I closed my eyes for a second. The image of
Julian safely sprawled on his bed surfaced in my mind. “Oh, I so
hope you know what risk I’m taking for you.” Walking through my
personal hell. Still, the thought of him filled me with
encouragement.

I turned my head to the left to focus on my
goal again.

And there he stood, like a dark knight in a
circle of light.

Clad in a dark gray sweater and even darker
trousers, he leaned against the frame of his balcony door, arms
crossed over his chest and eyes wide with wonder.

“Hi.” Excitement replaced my initial panic,
thudding my heart to a faster beat. He’d come and get me and
everything would be okay.

But Julian remained motionless, watching my
every move—which wasn’t a darn lot at this moment.
Damn you to
hell, wretch
!
I almost breathed a hysteric laugh.

“What in the world are you doing out here?”
he drawled eventually.

“Coming. Talk.” There wasn’t enough air in
my lungs for a longer answer.

“There’s an easier way to my room.”

“I know.” I did sound desperate, all
right.

His blond brow arched. “Why didn’t you take
that way?”

Questions, questions. Didn’t I look tense
enough? “I
don’t
know.”

“Would you like to come in?” He gestured a
hand toward the room’s interior.

“I guess.”
Oh please, do I have to drop
to my knees and plead for your help?
He could have that. My
wobbly legs threatened to give way underneath me in a second.

He made a step toward me and reached out
with one hand. It cost me quite an effort to let go of the wall
behind me and lay my trembling fingers in his palm instead.

Instantly, his warm touch infused me with a
strength I couldn’t find only a minute ago. He pulled me into his
protective arms and stared at me from an inch away. A second later,
he ushered me through the door into his realm.

 

  1. JULIAN’S ROOM

 

 

“SECRETS

DRIFTED FROM the iPod with
the voices of OneRepublic. My boots sat lonely on the stone tiled
floor while I hugged my knees to my chest, lounging on the center
of Julian’s queen-size bed. The lamp on his nightstand tinted the
plain walls a soft yellow.

Pressing my chin to my bent knees, I eyed
Julian half sitting on the corner of his maple desk, his hands
gripping the edge. Raindrops slid down the window behind him in
rhythm to the drumming on the roof.

“I’m impressed. You must have taken a ride
through hell to see me here. So what did you want to talk about?”
His eyes were warm, friendly, though his tone revealed a certain
hint of impatience.

About why the bloody hell you’re shoving me
away.

I shrugged. My gaze wandered around, taking
in the partly open door to the bathroom and the high wardrobe with
sliding panes. “You’ve got a nice room.”

“I guess it looks pretty similar to yours.”
He cast a glance over the room then at me. “But you certainly
didn’t take this terrifying walk to compliment my room, did
you?”

I studied his face, which he kept
expressionless. Okay, it was time to stop playing games and show my
hand. “What happened last weekend that you now can’t stand to have
me near you anymore?” Incomprehension narrowed my eyes. “I mean,
nothing
really
happened between us, did it?”

Lips compressed to a line, he puffed a sigh.
“No, nothing really happened.” His glance dropped briefly, a muscle
in his jaw ticked.

“Then why are you staying away from me?”

Julian blinked slowly while he shook his
head once. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?”
Wait one second; let me
eat a bowl of alphabet soup and poop a better argument than
that.
Loosening the hug of my knees, I crossed my legs and
braced my elbows on my thighs, lacing my fingers.

He nodded, pushed away from the desk and
paced the room, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Julian, I was shoved into an orphanage when
I was five because my mother didn’t want me. In the winter, I slept
wearing all four pairs of socks I owned just to stop my teeth from
rattling.” My voice rose a few notches with every word. “Last week,
I was caught stealing a bloody jacket, and a kid-loathing judge
shipped me off to France where I now have to stay with people I
hardly know and a mother I no longer care about. And you talk about
complicated?”

The bloody wretch wouldn’t even turn in my
direction.

“Dammit, Julian, would you please look at
me?”

First, only his eyes switched to mine, but
then his head angled and he gazed at me directly. However, his lips
remained sealed.

“Why don’t we just pretend
that little
nothing
which happened Sunday morning really
was
nothing
and we go back to what we were before?” I rubbed my hands over my
face. “I really could do with a friend here, you know.”

As my words sunk in, his puzzled expression
began to relax, as did the distance he’d put between us. Slowly, he
skirted the bed to my right. He slumped down and leaned against the
headboard. Arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched out on
the mattress, he studied the far wall. “I didn’t make it very easy
for you to feel at home here, did I?” The socks on his feet swayed
like a metronome.

I gazed at him over my shoulder. “You did
brilliantly until Sunday morning.”

“Is it too late to say I’m sorry?” His deep
blue eyes reflected the honesty of his words.

A smile crept to my mouth faster than I
could stop it. “I’d die to hear those words from you for once.”

“Ah, God forbid I say them twice.” His
mocking laugh filled both the room and me with joy. Hand cupping my
neck, he pulled me toward him. Astonished but without hesitation, I
nestled on his chest and let his hand rest softly on my
shoulder.

Oh. My. God.

Okay, he seemingly agreed to be friends
again. And body contact between friends was absolutely fine. No
need to go hysterical over it.
Deep breaths, Jona. And
—oh,
he smelled so bloody delicious.

I went rigid in his arms, concentrating on
staying calm. But with my fevered heart pounding in my ears it was
hard to even hear the music coming from the iPod.

“Can I ask you something?” Whiskers tickled
my skin when his chin rubbed against my forehead as he spoke.

“Shoot.” My voice cracked at this one little
word.

“What did you and Valentine talk about
yesterday?” He emphasized each word separately.

“Oh, you don’t want to know.” Laughing, I
twisted in his hold to gaze at his face.

From under his lashes, he regarded me with
intrigued eyes. But he accepted my answer. The strong beat of his
heart resonated in a calm rhythm against my palm. He must have been
used to girls lying in his arms, because obviously I didn’t make
him nervous one bit. Unlike me, an agitated shooting star, he
seemed the quiet center of my galaxy. And with just as many
secrets.

I figured this was the right moment for some
investigation. “Do I get a free question now?”

“Mm-hm.” Underneath his sweater, firm abs
twitched with the word.

“Have you always cared for people like my
mother?”

“Yes.”

“And do you always stay with them until they
die?”

Blinking twice, he seemed to contemplate his
answer. “With some of them. Others I attended to for only a few
weeks.”

“Until they recovered from their
illness?”

“Until they got on with their situations.”
Julian bent one knee and put one arm behind his head. “It’s not
always terminal care I do. In fact, cases like your mother are the
exception.”

Oh.
So, my mother
was
a
special case.

“What’s your employing agency called?” Maybe
I could find some information about it on the Internet. On the
ancient computer in the orphanage, I had learned how to Google
things.

His lips curved on one side and he twitched
his brows once as if to say,
you would so like to know that,
wouldn’t you
?

“So?” I pressed.

“So, it’s not really an agency. It’s more,
let’s say… an association. We like to call ourselves
Supporters
.”


The Supporters Association.
I guess
that name fits, considering how you’re kind of playing angels for
ill people.”

The second half of his mouth curled up, too,
and he rolled his eyes sweetly.

“Do you like your boss?” Somehow, I
envisioned the head of the society like a nun, all in
black-and-white penguin wear.

“He’s a very charismatic guy.”

“And is the headquarters here in
France?”

“You have a lot of questions, young lady.”
His mocking tone of scolding ignited a sensual shiver down my
back.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” I flashed my cutest
grin. “Now, is it?”

His chuckle shook me on his chest and
reverberated through my head. “No. It’s farther north.”

My curiosity rose. “England?”

“Way farther up.”

“That could be any of a million places,
including the North Pole. So, where is it?”

“You never give up, do you?”

“And you never give a straight answer. Do
you
?”
I liked how he laughed at that. But his evasion
of my questions irritated me. What was so confidential about the
location of this association? Maybe I would need to Google it after
all. If an Internet connection existed in this house, anyway.

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