Micah smiled. “That’s David. Mr. Prepared.”

“I miss him.”

“Yeah, so do I.”

“Micah?”

“Yes, Angel girl.”

“About tonight.”

Micah reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorrier for tonight than you’ll ever know. I’d cut off my right arm before I’d ever hurt you. We need to come to an understanding. I want you here. I want to help you. I don’t want you out there alone. But I need to know you’re safe, and I’d rather you not go back to places like The House.”

She blew out her breath, her cheeks puffing in frustration. There was so much in his statement she wanted to deny, to refuse, but now wasn’t the time. She didn’t want him to be sorry, and she damn sure wanted to make certain what happened tonight happened again. And again.

All she wanted was to curl into his arms and rest. Just for a little while she wanted to feel his strength and the tenderness she knew he was capable of. Yes, she wanted his power, his control, his dominance, but she wanted it all, his complete care. His regard. His love.

“Hold me,” she whispered as she leaned toward him. “Please?”

He hesitated as if wavering on the brink of indecision. She didn’t give him a chance to deny her. She moved into his space, cuddled against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She rested her cheek against his collarbone and nestled her head just below his chin.

Nothing was going to ruin this moment for her. She would savor every sweet second.

Gingerly his arms curled around her, and he leaned back, taking her with him as he reclined against the back of the sofa. They sat in silence as he absently rubbed his palm up and down her back. The heat of his touch scorched her even through the thick material of the robe.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Micah,” she said softly. “I’m not. Don’t you understand? I know you. I can give you what you need.”

His entire body went stiff. For a long moment he sat there, his hand still against her back. And when he finally spoke, the absolute certainty in his voice made her heart sink.

“But I can’t give you what you need, Angel girl.”

Angelina trudged into the kitchen in a pair of pajama shorts and a muscle shirt, yawning broadly as she rubbed her eyes.

“Want something to eat?” Micah asked. “I’m doing toast and juice.”

She stood by the counter and looked around like she was having a hard time getting her bearings. Guilt crushed him. She looked tired and vulnerable, and he still wasn’t convinced he hadn’t hurt her. She was a small woman, and he was not a small man.

His entire gut clenched as he remembered the way her pussy had gripped him. So tight that he’d had to force his way in, pushing against her body’s natural resistance.

Jesus, he had to stop thinking about her. This was insane. She was David’s little sister. She trusted him, and he’d used her in an unforgivable manner to slake his lust when any of the other women in that room would have been more than willing to take whatever he wanted to dish out.

But no one had fired his senses like sweet, innocent-looking Angelina, a woman who knew everything he’d tried so hard to forget.

His head jerked up when the doorbell rang. What the hell? It was six in the morning.

“I’ll get it,” Angelina said as she started forward.

“I don’t think—”

But she’d already disappeared into the hallway.

Angelina opened the door and peered out at the two men standing just a few feet away. They were both tall. One was solidly muscled and looked intimidating with his bald head and goatee. A small gold hoop hung from his left ear. He wasn’t someone she’d want to meet on a dark street.

The other man was leaner but no less muscled, and he wore his muddy blond hair in a short military style. Both had on faded jeans and casual T-shirts, and both looked at her with open curiosity.

“You must be David’s sister,” the guy with the muddy blond hair said.

“Uh, yeah,” she said cautiously.

“What are you two boneheads doing here at this hour?” Micah growled from behind her.

She jerked around just as Micah pulled her back and stepped toward the two men.

“Not going to introduce us?” she murmured.

Micah scowled. “Guys this is Angelina Moyano. Angel this is Connor Malone and Nathan Tucker.”

“And which is which?” she asked in amusement.

The bald guy grinned, transforming his badass looks into boyish charm. “I’m Nathan.” He jerked his thumb to the side. “This is Connor. We work with Micah.”

“That doesn’t explain what the hell you’re doing here,” Micah said darkly.

“Ah, well, you’re usually gone by now, so we were just checking to see if you were coming in,” Connor said.

Micah shot them both murderous glances that suggested he didn’t believe a word they said. Angelina cleared her throat to disguise her laugh. “Well, it was nice meeting you two, but I really need to get dressed and ready for work.”

At that Micah seemed to forget all about his two friends.

“You found a job already?” he demanded. “Where? Doing what?”

“A little café two blocks from here.”

“Waitressing? Why the hell are you waitressing? I know damn well David would be spinning in his grave. He made sure you were able to go to college. You did graduate, didn’t you?”

“You’d know if you’d bothered to be there,” she said lightly to disguise the quick flash of hurt. “You couldn’t leave fast enough after David and Hannah died.”

Immediately Micah’s face became a stone wall. “That’s enough.”

She glanced between him and his friends’ confused expressions. “They don’t know about Hannah?”

“I’ll see you two at work,” Micah said to Connor and Nathan right before he slammed the door in their faces.

She stared at Micah. “They don’t, do they?”

“I don’t talk about Hannah,” he said in a tight voice. “I never talked about David either until you arrived and I had to explain who you were.”

She turned away and walked down the hallway toward her bedroom.

“Angel,” he called.

But she ignored him and shut the door to sever the connection.

She sank onto the bed then flopped back to stare at the ceiling. Maybe he hadn’t let go of Hannah after all. Was he still deeply in love with her? Is that why he was convinced he couldn’t give Angelina what she needed? Was he still mourning his dead wife?

When he’d come to Miami that last time, just before Angelina left to come here to Houston, she’d been convinced he’d let go. She’d watched from a distance as he’d visited David’s and Hannah’s graves and wondered why she wasn’t important enough for him to even check in on. There had been such a finality to his actions, and she’d known then he wouldn’t be back again. It was what prompted her to finally act on her long-held feelings for him. Three years was a long time to mourn a lost love.

“Oh, Micah,” she whispered. “Have you been running from your past all this time? Have you tried to forget us? Is that why you left me too? Was I are minder of everything you lost?”

She’d been so certain that Micah was ready to love again, but now ... Now she wasn’t so sure.

Emotion knotted her stomach. And fear. Fear of being alone again. Because she knew without a doubt that she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t pretend to have a platonic relationship with Micah. She wouldn’t hide her feelings, not that she could. Not after hiding them for so long.

She’d thought the best approach was a direct one, but now she realized she’d pushed him too hard, too fast. She’d seen the haunted, pained look come over his face when she’d said Hannah’s name. No man looked like that over a mere mention of someone’s name if he’d moved past his grief.

And she couldn’t stay if she had no chance of winning his heart.