Free Angel in the Shadows by Amy Deason Page A

gone, leaving only a calm, restful appearance. “Who are you, my dear, and what am I going to do with you?”
    Leaving the unanswered question hanging in the air, he shifted the car into gear and disappeared into the dark New York night.

Chapter 7
    Seth closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He’d received his orders and they were just as he had expected. Get rid of the photographer . No big surprise there. The surprise had been his gut instinct to refuse. It shouldn’t bother him to kill her. He’d taken numerous lives in his career, women included. So this one should be no different. But she was and he didn’t know why. He went into the bedroom where he had left her and looked down at her, studying her as if the answer to his sudden reluctance to kill her might jump out at him. It certainly couldn’t have anything to do with her looks. By no means the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he had to admit that she was pretty in an unconventional sort of way.
    Her honey-blond hair fanned over the tops of her pale shoulders. And her brown eyes, closed in sleep, were as ordinary as they came. In fact, all of her features were ordinary, nothing spectacular or model worthy. The rounded jaw and small, upturned nose. The high cheekbones and soft, pink lips. Yet his eyes lingered the longest there, tracing the curve of her lips, full and lush, remembering the softness of them, the taste of them. A thread of need rushed through him before he snipped it. The last thing he needed to do was get attached to this woman that had gotten in the way of his mission. This woman that could destroy everything.
    Watching the fall and rise of her chest as she breathed, he leaned over her and ran his hands over her body, feeling for anything she might have hidden beneath the expensive dress. Not exactly a bothersome chore. Her curves were a little fuller than most women he’d dealt with, a detail that fascinated him. Finding nothing unusual, he turned his attention back to her chest. A common hiding place among the female sex.
    Peeling away the low neckline of her dress, his eyes roamed over the smooth skin being held hostage beneath a bra of black cotton and lace. Longing to release her from that uncomfortable prison, he ran his fingers along the soft curve of her breasts, selfishly allowing his fingers to wander. He traced the soft fabric and trailed over the rough-edged lace. Her skin was warm and silky against his fingertips as he slid them inside the bra. Exploring further, he found her breasts firm and supple beneath his hands. They fit perfectly into the palm of his hand, their heat pulsing through him. The sharp teeth of lust gnawed at him but he shoved them away with some effort.
    Abruptly, his fingers connected with a small square of plastic in the deepest corner of her bra. Carefully withdrawing the memory card from its hiding place, he replaced her clothing and stepped back, considering.
    He didn’t want to kill her. He’d killed without question for so long, it had become second nature to him. None of those people proved to be too difficult for him. They were just jobs that had to be done. But none of them had been blameless either. That was the difference between them and Madison. Whoever Madison was, she wasn’t a part of this. He felt that more clearly than anything else in a very long time. It was possible that he was wrong but he didn’t think so. He wanted to save her. But that wasn’t his call.
    He was continually thankful that he was not in that position, to issue those commands, preferring to simply follow orders and let the questions and moral implications rest on the shoulders of someone else. Only now, those questions and implications were coming home to roost and he wasn’t sure how to handle them. The objective was to save innocent lives, not end them. So where did that leave Madison? He didn’t know. Right now, his resolve was shaken, his decision uncertain. In the end, if there was no other