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“Oh really? Tell me, Abel, how long do you think it takes to get a wax? Two hours? Three?” she challenged. “Just how much hair do you think I have down there?”
“I dare you to answer that,” Roman cut in before the other man could speak. He looked rather murderous.
Abel shrugged, staying out of Roman’s reach. “How am I supposed to know what goes on in those womanly places?”
“I’ll give you a hint: it’s not three hours,” Angela informed him. “Besides, men get waxed too.”
Abel looked truly perplexed. “Where?”
Angela shared an amused look with Morrigan. “Ever heard of a back, sack, and crack?”
“No, I have not,” Abel replied swiftly. “A fact I’m eternally grateful for.”
Morrigan grinned evilly. “It’s where they pour hot wax over your frank and beans and then let it rip.”
Abel blocked his ears. “La la la, I can’t hear you.”
They all laughed, including Roman. Angela was glad because he had been far too serious ever since the discovery of Godfrey. “But for real, Abel, do you know how many times I snuck out of the beautician to go watch a movie? Or to just do my groceries without you lurking?”
Abel narrowed his eyes on her suspiciously. “Impossible.”
Angela snorted. “It’s not. But you’re missing the point. I promise I won’t do that.” She twisted on Roman’s lap. “Please, Roman. I’m a surgeon. I need to be a surgeon. I don’t want to fight with you about this, but I will.”
“I don’t want to fight with you either. And it’s something that was already brought to my attention by my pesky brother,” Roman revealed, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “We’ll figure out a roster for your protective detail together. Only the men and women that I trust implicitly will be on your team.” He shot a mock-scathing look at Abel. “One that doesn’t include Abel, because apparently he sucks at tailing.”
“Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t know her then. I didn’t know how tricksy she was,” Abel defended himself.
Roman thought about it for a moment before nodding his head. “You make a good point. She’s not a normal woman.”
Angela frowned. “Why doesn’t that sound like a compliment?”
“It definitely was,” Roman replied quickly. Too quickly.
“Oh? Then why were you frowning when you said it? And why did that vein in your forehead throb?” Angela poked the vein above his left temple. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled wide. She knew it was fake as hell, but it was still appealing.
“She’s not a normal woman,” Roman tried again, his face frozen with the unnatural smile. “How was that?”
“Much better.” She patted his cheek. “The smile makes all the difference.” Refocusing, she said, “About work. I promise I’ll be careful, Roman. Even though it’s probably irrelevant. I mean, it’s not like he’s going to hang around in the city. That would be crazy.”
“Anyone that diddles children is fucking crazy,” Morrigan pointed out. When Sal and Roman frowned at her, she ignored them as usual.
“You have such a way with words,” Salvatore commented irritably.
Morrigan shrugged. “Thank you. Anyway, until he’s caught, no one is taking any chances. I’ll be on your detail.”
“Thank you,” Angela said gratefully.
“Yeah, yeah,” Morrigan muttered.
Angela wanted to hug the grumpy woman but figured she’d get a knife in the kidney if she did.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I’m going to New York.”
As expected, Roman’s statement was met with pushback. It had been one week, a total of seven days, since his woman’s childhood tormentor had strolled out of his building and vanished into thin air. They had nothing. No names, no secret hideouts, no paper trail. It was as if the man was a ghost. To say Roman’s mood was shitty was an understatement of epic proportions.
“What? Why? You can’t!” Luca said, rising from his seat next to Sal and Abel in Roman’s office.
