The Angel's Assassin Read Online Free PDF

stabbing ache in her back and the
invasive light of day woke Annabel, and she groaned as she pried her lids open.
Biting back an unladylike curse, she struggled up to sitting and rubbed at her
bleary eyes. She had never slept in the woods before and she certainly didn’t
enjoy it. More used to a soft straw mattress, every twig and stone seemed to
jab into her and her body ached everywhere. As she stretched and absently ran a
hand through her tangled hair, a shudder trekked down her spine and she turned
her head to see Nicholas watching her with a slight frown. As her eyes locked
onto his, she felt a flush rise in her cheeks but he revealed no embarrassment
at being caught out and she turned away quickly before he noticed her blush.
    What an uncommon
man he was! Annabel had to admit he fascinated her, and not just because of his
handsome face. There was something in his eyes that made her stomach flip.
While his face betrayed little or no emotion, something raw and untenable
seemed to hang in that dark gaze.
    She suspected his
closed down manner was due to his lonely childhood. Aye, he’d told her little
except that he was orphaned at a young age, but she could tell there was pain
there. No matter how deep he had buried it. So deep that even he wasn’t aware
of it.
    Annabel felt
foolish, when she’d recognised that hurt, for trying to compare them. Her
parents had died within months of one another - her father seemed to give up
after her mother died of illness - but she had eighteen summers of love and
wonderful memories to sustain her. How would she have differed had she not
known such love?
    The love that her
parent’s had shared and had devoted to her, had made her determined that she
would only ever marry for love. However, embarrassingly enough, what she had
told Nicholas had been true. She had received no offers of marriage and she
suspected she would probably become an old maid. Annabel attributed it to her
odd looks. She knew her blonde hair and grey eyes were a disturbing
combination, though she had long since forgotten to care. Annabel had come to
the conclusion that if a man loved her enough then he would look past her
unusual looks. Nicholas’ stiff words of kindness brought a smile to her face as
she contemplated them. Did he really think her a fine beauty?
    She continued
combing her fingers through her hair, attempting to tidy it as best she could.
Her hair was difficult enough to look after normally but without a maid and a
comb she had little chance of taming it. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw
that Nicholas still watched, unabashedly staring at her as she toyed with her
tresses. Did she look so terrible?
    He remained in the
same spot that he had been in when she fell asleep. Had he sat there all night?
She knew it was unlikely he had slept. What little she knew of him told her
that he took his duties seriously. Throughout the night, she’d been aware of
him there and although she could not claim to have slept well, his company
certainly provided a comfort that she doubted she would have drawn from anyone
else.
    Finally feeling a
little more human, she staggered to her feet, her mantle pooling at her feet as
it slid off. Hazily, she realised that she was wearing her cloak and as she
bent to pick it up she recognised it as Nicholas’. She smiled to herself - so
there was a softer side of him. If she could only draw it out.
    Picking up the
mantle, she handed it to him and he stood abruptly to take it off her, looking
slightly annoyed at her having noticed his act of charity.
    “Good morrow,
Nicholas.”
    “My lady.” He
dipped his head. “Did you sleep well?”
    Hiding a yawn with
the back of her hand, she nodded. “Well enough.”
    A flicker of
amusement revealed itself briefly on his face before being pushed under a
scowl, as if he didn’t understand his own mirth.
    “Fear not, you
shall sleep better tonight. We shall make to a convent that I have knowledge of
today. God willing, we should