Free A Dom for Christmas by Raven McAllan

inventive, as her other Cam. Angie
liked her leggings and sheepskin boots, her short skirts and strappy tops. To say nothing of cappuccinos, pizzas, Johnny Depp, and dairy milk
chocolate. In a chunky bar from the fridge, not hot
and runny in a cup.
      Mind you, I’d take Johnny
Depp any which way. Angie composed herself and her thoughts, and settled herself in
the seat Cam had held out for her, on the opposite side of the table of their
visitors. Only once she was comfortable did the others also sit down. She
rather liked that courtesy, although the closeness of Cam to her didn’t bode
well for coherent thoughts.
    A sudden thought struck her.
What would her other Cam be doing? Where was she to him and all her friends?
Did that life even exist? Angie’s skin became clammy, and she swallowed to
dispel the feelings of nausea that filled her. She couldn’t lose it now.
Panicking or tossing her cookies wouldn’t help. Maybe if she cleared up this here and now, she’d be able to find her way back to her other life.
      Maybe.
    However, for the moment there
was nothing else she could do, and Stuart needed to be dealt with.
    “Ready?” Cam asked her as he
put a goblet in front of her. To Angie’s relief, it only contained lemonade.
She needed a clear head.
    “As I’ll ever
be. So,
what’s going on?” She looked at the three men in front of her who avoided her
gaze and instead gazed toward Cam. “Okay, I get it. You’re the three wise
monkeys, and Cam’s the organ grinder. Spill the beans.”
    They seeme d confused, as well they might.
Angie inwardly groaned at her mixed metaphors and muddled sayings. “Tell me
just what’s going on?” she suggested.
    “Ah.” Sykes tugged at his
cravat.
    Gareth studied his nails, and
Albemarle cleared his throat.
    “If I may, My Lord?” he asked
diffidently. Angie judged diffidence was not his usual attitude.
    “Oh by all means.” Cam pushed
the decanter across the table. “Duty paid,” he said.
    “But of course.” There was a
twinkle in Albemarle’s eyes as he poured himself a generous tot, and passed the
decanter to Sykes. Angie swore he winked briefly. “So, to
recap for the Countess. Several months ago, it came to my notice that Rawcliffe had befriended some rather unsavory characters with less than sterling backgrounds. They had recognized his
predilection for heavy gambling in the less than respectable hells, and
encouraged him. Once they had his promissory notes, they had a hold over him he
couldn’t get away from. Hence his attempt at burglary, and
his attack on you. His Lordship and I have had reason to suspect Rawcliffe was in dire straits, and although we know he was
to be shipped off to the Colonies, we wished to reduce the scandal as much as
possible.”
    “Okay, now I’m confused.”
    Gareth tilted his chair back
and swung it on two legs. Angie admired the angle he tipped to and didn’t
topple over. “It’s simple, really. Rawcliffe dipped
too deep. Got into trouble and decided to get out of it with a spot of
burglary. Your husband got wind of his intentions, but before we were able to
set our plans in motion, you were attacked. Then we were able to set a trap to
thwart him, and arrange for his immediate departure from these shores. At this
moment he’s on one of Cam’s ships and about to set sail on the tide for the
Colonies. It will make him or break him, and I for one don’t care which.” He
swung his chair legs onto the floor with a thump, and reached for the decanter.
    “Succinct and to the point,”
Cam said. “But I need to explain why we used your angel.”
    She had wondered.
    “Please.”
    “I told you about our tenuous
connection to Rawcliffe ?”
    “Very tenuous, thankfully,”
Gareth said.
    Cam frowned at him, and Gareth
raised his hands. “I only speak the truth.”
    “True, but
there is no need. I’ve explained the connection to Angelina.”
    “But not why he knew or wanted
my angel.” She fingered the ornament in her