Page 16 of Angelic Vengeance

CHAPTER 6

Present

I WATCHED THE SHARP KNIFE move fast in my hand. The blade cut through skin and meat like air; up and down, against the wood board.

I threw the chicken in the frying pan, before moving on to the vegetables.

“Who’s coming over again?” I asked Natalia, who was busy peeling the garlic. She was hosting a dinner, and when she asked for my help, I agreed because I loved her.

“Everybody,” She replied, just as the doorbell rang. “Coming!”

I continued making dinner. Distant voices and laughter filled the entry hallway as I moved through the kitchen trying to multitask.

Boil water,peel garlic,don’t burn chicken…

I was back to cutting vegetables when the air around me thickened. My breaths turned shallow in the almost empty space, and I suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how I looked. I hadn’t had time to get ready yet; I was in a baggy T-shirt and even baggier sweatpants, my hair in a messy updo. Granted, this wasn’t that much different from what I usually wore.

Chop,chop,chop.

The sound of the blade and the water bubbling filled the kitchen as the tension expanded. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Being extremely aware of my surroundings was a skill I’d developed a few years ago for survival. Yetthiswas nothing like that; I felt him the moment he entered Natalia’s penthouse.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked over my shoulder.

Dark hair. Black suit. Tattoos.

Zachary stood in the doorway, hands in pockets, watching me so intensely it knocked the air out of me. He carried the same bored expression, yet the way he looked at me was anything but. Black eyes stared back at me, but I swore I could see flames deep inside them. They pierced straight through me and burned low in my tummy.

I almost knocked over the pepper shaker.

Without saying anything, I turned back to what I was doing.

What was I doing,again? Right; cutting vegetables.Gosh,get it together.

Footsteps thudded against the white marble floors. The sound made my heart drop before it came back to normal. Probably just PTSD.

I forced my focus to remain on cooking, attempting to ignore the tatted six-foot-five man entering my space.

That only lasted two seconds. The warmth of his body made the skin on my back buzz and I felt his soft breath on my neck. A chill ran down my back and my pulse picked up. I should probably get that checked out.

“What are you making?” The low murmur sent visible goose-bumps down my arms.Why did I wear a T-shirt?

“Food,” I deadpanned.

“Would’ve never guessed,” Zachary drawled. He was so close, yet his body didn’t touch mine.

I glanced at our reflection in the window, so clear it could pass for a mirror. The blurry lights of New York shined from the fifty-second floor. The top of my head was a few inches under his chin, and I wasn’t even half of his body’s width. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a large back enveloped me completely between him and the island counter. A weird sensation ran through my body before moving towards my thighs.

His presence dominated mine.

And Ihatedit.

“Pasta,” I added, throwing the vegetables in the frying pan. Zachary didn’t respond. He kept watching me, probably silently judging. He was irritating me. “What’s with you? Stop being so close to me.”

He stepped closer.

When I felt the slight brush ofhimagainst my ass – he wasn’t even hard and the size was intimidating – I froze only for a moment. Warmth began sliding up my thighs–

“What food do you like?” I asked, desperate to get rid of the tension and weird feeling I wasn’t familiar with. I readjusted my hips so we were no longer touching.

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