Christmas Angel Read Online Free PDF

following her the few steps to the tree lot, and paused to watch her cross in the middle of the block without so much as a glance. Whatever her purpose, it was clear she was focused on getting to the Imperial.
    The low rumbling roar of an engine caught his attention, and he looked up in time to see a sleek, dark-colored vehicle emerging from the wintery mist like a demon from Hell. The driver couldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it.
    Where the hell was a traffic cop when you needed one? His gaze shot to the woman blithely unaware she was about to become road kill.
    Shado took off, head down in a race to see who would reach her first. He lunged, grabbing her around the waist, and yanked her body around. Holding her tight, he tried to protect her head as they both hit and rolled across the frigid asphalt. His head slammed against the curb, and he squeezed her close as the car whizzed past. The heat from its tires blew like a dragon’s breath against the side of his face.
    “Jackson!” His boss’s voice screamed in Shado’s ear.
    “I’m good,” he bellowed in response without thinking. He tried to hang onto the squirming woman trying to free herself. His cheek was on fire from sliding across the pavement.
    “And what about my dress? It’s not like I have a trunk full of these.” The disgruntled woman pushed away from him and plopped down on the curb. She sighed as she held up the hem.
    “But you’re not hurt.” Shado pulled himself literally out of the gutter. He was going to be sore for a week from this stunt. Hell, he’d saved her life, thank you very much. He sat down beside her and brushed off his coveralls, grateful for the heavyweight fabric, little good it did his cheek. He touched it gingerly and winced.
    “I’m fine.” She tossed him a disgruntled look and wiped the dirt from her hands.
    He dropped his arms over his knees. “Maybe I should go in with you to make sure you’re all right.”
    Her head came up, and she struggled to stand, pushing on his shoulder—the sore one—in the process. Shado clenched his teeth from the pain.
    “I have no need for an escort, thank you.” She looked down the road where the car had sped clean out of sight. “What was that?” She dusted off her white rabbit jacket.
    With any luck the camera in the van caught the license plate on the idiot driver’s car and Gleason had someone looking for the bastard. Shado ambled to his feet. He didn’t fault her for not knowing about cars, a lot of women didn’t recognize vehicle makes or models. “Mustang—’68 vintage,” he replied, rolling his shoulder to ease the ache. Nothing a good hot soak in the tub wouldn’t resolve.
    “Strange contraption,” she muttered softly and turned then to look up at the Imperial. He actually didn’t mind standing there while she stared in wide-eyed wonder at the historical relic. The view of her upturned chin reminded him of the soft warmth of a woman’s neck—one of his favorite places to linger.
    “Are you going to let me by?”
    “Oh.” A weird sensation tugged at Shado’s gut. That should have been warning enough. He stepped aside and purposely looked down at his feet, knowing he’d stare like a buffoon if he watched her walk up those steps.
    “Thank you,” she called when she reached the top.
    Only then did he dare to look, swallowing hard at the sight of her silhouette with the light shining through the thin material. Maybe it was those odd-looking Victorian boots. Maybe it was her innocent blue eyes. Whatever it was felt like a vice grip on his nuts. He watched as the attendant held the door open for her and she disappeared inside. Shit. He looked around, his mind racing to come up with a plan. She had to be the target Espinoza was using—from out of town, fearless, gorgeous right down to those sexy boots. The sad truth was she probably had no idea what she was doing. He quickly admonished himself for allowing his instant physical attraction to her to