Page 56 of The Billionaire's Angel

That thought should have shocked me. At least scared me a little. We'd only known each other a few weeks, and we both had things to deal with before we were ready for a commitment like that. Despite all the weddings going on, I wasn't running out to go ringshopping.

Not yet. Not unless I wanted to scare Sophie off. But as every day passed, I grew more convinced that she was it forme.

We slept together every night in her room. I'd tried to talk her into sleeping in my suite, but she'd insisted she needed to be across the hall from Amelia. Amelia slept like a rock and had never needed her in the night, but Sophie claimed that wasn't thepoint.

I didn't care. I was happy wherever Sophie was. My room. Her room. I wouldn't mind bedding down on the ground if she were besideme.

We’d both worried that the motion sensors would make our insomnia even more frustrating. It was bad enough not being able to sleep. Being trapped in one room, unable to roam, to get a cup of tea or watch a movie, seemed like apunishment.

It wasn’t. The first time I woke from a nightmare of flashing lights and gunshots, Sophie had reached over and stroked my cheek until the iron band around my chest loosened and my heart rate slowed tonormal.

She’d murmured my name in her sweet voice, her fingers trailing over my skin, soothing the nightmare away. When I had my head back on straight, I’d pulled her into my arms and thanked her the best way I knewhow.

That became ourpattern.

Our insomnia was different—I had trouble falling asleep, and Sophie had trouble staying asleep, but we both woke with nightmares. I made love to her every evening after we turned out the light—and sometimes before—until we were both exhausted enough to sleep. When I felt her wake in the dark hours before dawn, I'd reach for her again, chasing away her restless tension withpleasure.

In halting words, her cheeks pink, she’d told me she was protected from pregnancy by a birth control implant, and she’d been tested after her husband had died. If I wanted to, we could forget about the condoms. I wanted to. Fuck, did I want to. Being skin to skin with Sophie, nothing between us, was heaven. It wasn’t just the pleasure; it was the intimacy. Thetrust.

It was too soon to say, but it felt like I was sleeping better. Either way, I'd made an appointment for after the new year with the therapist Cooper had recommended. His patient roster was filled with guys like me who'd seen action overseas and were having trouble transitioning to civilianlife.

Sophie had her own appointment after the holidays. To be honest, we were both dreading it, but talking to a shrink was better than waking in the night, mind and body convinced I was back in the worst moments of mylife.

Funny how it was so much easier to suffer my own flashbacks and insomnia than it was to watch Sophie do the same.I'll go if you'll go, she'd said. If not for that, I have no idea how long it would've taken for me to pick up the phone and callCooper.

I would have put it off forever if it hadn't been for Sophie. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be free. She would be. I would make sure ofit.

There hadn't been any more intruders in the house or another mysterious phone call, but I couldn'trelax.

It turned out I was smart to stay on guard. Just the day before, Aiden had pulled me into his office and handed me an unsealed envelope addressed to Sophie, with a local postmark. I’d turned it over in my hands before asking, “What isthis?”

“It came in yesterday. Cooper already checked it—no trace, no prints. Mailed somewhere in Atlanta a few daysago.”

Inside the envelope was a single sheet of plain, white letter-size paper, the kind sold in reams in any office supply store. The message was written in a slanted hand, the points of the letters dense with ink, as if the author had pressed on the pen toohard.

It read, ‘I miss you so much, my darling. Soon, we'll be together again.Forever.’

“What has Cooper found out about the husband?” I asked, turning the message over in my hands before refolding it and sliding it back in theenvelope.

I fought the urge to tear it to pieces. Maybe sensing my thoughts, Aiden reclaimed the envelope and sat down behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seatopposite.

When I did, he said, “Nothing good. I have no idea how Sophie met this guy, but he was into some bad shit. Among other things, he handled money laundering for the Accorsi crime family. About a year after Anthony Armstrong died, a few of them ended up going to jail, including Matteo Accorsi, the head of the family. Cooper found some information that indicates Anthony may have provided the key testimony that put themthere.”

My mind raced with the possibilities. “Before or after hedied?”

Aiden shook his head. “Cooper is having a hard time finding out, which means anything ispossible.”

“Shit. Has Sophie seen thatletter?”

“No. My gut instinct is to keep it from her, but I wanted to run it by youfirst.”

I thought about the look on Sophie's face when she’d dropped her phone two weeks before. The shock. The fear. The way her skin had turned toice.

She was a smart, resilient woman. There was absolutely no sensible reason to keep this from her. Whoever the letter was from, she was a target, and she had a right toknow.

I still wasn't going to tellher.

Making a quick decision, I said, “She can't leave the house withoutprotection.”