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Angela turned away from him because his words hit her right in the feels. “The last time I was the real me, a lot of people died,” she admitted after a long moment, her voice no more than a whisper.
“What a coincidence,” Roman murmured, coming up behind her so close she could feel the heat from his body. “The last time I was the real me, a man died. Just an hour ago.”
She spun around, finding his expression hard. “Lenny.”
Roman nodded once. “That’s right.”
“Why?” She needed to know.
“Because he touched you,” Roman replied simply.
Angela sighed, shaking her head. “You can’t kill everyone who touches me, Roman.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because...” Her mind went blank because, truth was, knowing there was someone out there who wanted to slay dragons for her was a miracle. “You just can’t.”
Roman reached for her, pulling the sleeve of her shirt up. His eyes landed on the bruise from Lenny’s fingers. “He hurt you.”
Angela looked down at the discolored skin. It was very minor. “Hardly. It’s just a bruise.”
“No one hurts you,” Roman all but growled.
Against her better judgment, Angela caved and let herself melt. She bowed her head, and it came to rest on his chest due to their close proximity. “Where were you twenty years ago when I needed a knight to save me?”
She didn’t want Roman to know about her past, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. She was tired. She was also emotionally drained.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Roman said, stroking her head. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She wanted to tell him to go—that she didn’t want that. But it would have been a lie. A big one. So, she simply said nothing, allowing Roman to pull her in closer so she was flush against his chest, and he was hugging her. She snuggled in before she could stop herself. “Someone who killed a man today has no right being so snuggly,” she told him grumpily.
Roman chuckled. “I think you’re the first person to ever call me snuggly.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Angela assured him, her words coming out slightly muffled against his solid warmth.
“I appreciate that,” he said, his hand trailing down the length of her hair to her waist. “And if it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t just because of you. The bastard was also taking advantage of some women under my employ.”
Angela pulled back far enough to see his face. “What do you mean?”
“Have you heard of Bertha’s?”
She frowned. “You mean the brothel on the south side of the city?”
“That’s the one,” Roman confirmed. “I’m a silent owner. Lenny and another man, Dane, took certain liberties with the workers. They were scum. The world won’t miss Lenny. And I feel confident that Dane has learned the error of his ways.”
“So, you’re telling me you weren’t just avenging me, but also other women as well?” She sought clarification.
“I don’t condone violence against women,” Roman told her. He paused and thought about it for a moment. “Unless they’re nasty bitches and deserve it. Then I don’t discriminate.”
“Women can be evil, too,” Angela agreed softly.
“Indeed they can.”
Roman kept up the slow strokes of her hair and back, and Angela started getting sleepy. She knew she was leaning more heavily on him, but he had no issue taking on her weight. And hers was considerable. She was no wafer. It’s nice to be held, she thought, tracing her finger over the seam in his shirt at the shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” Roman asked softly, as if he didn’t want to break whatever spell they were under.
“That it might be nice to come home to someone,” Angela answered honestly.
