Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance
The cold breeze on the hot summer day touched Angela's cheeks and neck, sweeping her hair to the side and her skirt swaying along.
She was pretty and her cheeks were flushed pink. It could be the sun… but it could also be because she was flustered upon laying her eyes on the man that she hadn't seen since that night. That man whose lies she used in her first book.
Her cheek was twitching again and she was beginning to think that she had to see a nerve doctor. What were they called? — Neurologists! Right. She should probably have to see one. Because right now, her cheek had been twitching. Or was she mistaken and she was actually stopping herself from smiling?
Why would she smile?! What was she expecting? That he would remember her? For all she knows, he might have forgotten her already. After all, he looked like the kind who did 'Wham bam thank you ma'am's'!
'Look at him,' her inner voice told her.
He was tall and gorgeous with perfect hair. He had chiseled jaw and sharp nose and—abs, his abs were slightly tanned. And his abs glistened – like a friggin' Twilight Vampire.
And his face, he looked the same but also not. Yet he looked as handsome as she remembered him to be. His five o'clock shadow made her swallow as a certain memory from that one night they spent suddenly played in her head. That time when he was all over her… and she was all over him. And that his stubble grazed her skin in the most delicious—What the hell was she thinking right now!?
Angela watched as the man walked towards her. Her feet were still rooted in the uneven sand and she might possibly be wobbling at the moment but she wouldn't know because she was trying so hard not to pee. Being nervous made her want to pee.
Everything went by like a slow-mo. You know like when you're watching a movie—and the male lead was approaching the female lead very slowly, accompanied by a really nice background music? It was similar to that, only this wasn't what she was expecting for. She certainly wasn't excited to see this man again. How awkward!
What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say?
He's coming…
Oh, dear god, he's coming…
He's…
What?!
What the—
She was so sure that he was certainly and absolutely looking at her as he was walking! They made eye contact! But why? Why the hell did he walk past her?
'Was he blind? Did he not see me?'
Angela gaped and scoffed as she watched the man's retreating back. He was walking towards the rooms and away from the beach. He did not even look back at her. The jerk acted as if he didn't know her at all!
Was she supposed to be happy and thankful that he ignored her? That was what she wanted, right? She didn't want anything to do with him. How awkward would it be if he found out that she used his tales in her books and even used him as her character reference?
Meh. There's no way he'd be reading that. What guy reads adult romance books?
…
Gael entered his suite and headed straight to his bathroom to take a shower. Little Ashton spilled his orange juice all over him while he was on the sunbed. He felt all sticky and he just wanted to change.
And there she was, standing awkwardly in the sand, gaping at him like she had seen a ghost. He looked right at her, unashamed that he stared and his stare lingered on her body. She was dressed nicely. Her bust was full and round just like before, her waist was still small—he imagined that he could carry her over his shoulder like a caveman without a sweat, her hair was shorter now though but she still looked ho—he would not go there. Nope.
He was here to collect interests. She's long overdue and she owed him big time. 'No playing games, Gael,' he told himself. But first, he needed a shower and a change. He could deal with her later. They were on an island. Where was she going to run off to?
She was probably pissed when he walked past her judging by the scoff that he heard behind him. He didn't look back as he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Whatever she expected from him — he would never give it to her.
If she was hoping for a hookup, boy was she going to be disappointed. Gael never does a repeat after a one-night stand.
Gael stripped off all his clothes and tossed it in the hamper. Stepping in the shower, he turned it on and rainfall-like water poured from above him, wetting his hair, his face, and his body. Steam covered the room as he stood under the large shower head, trying to calm himself down from the rage that was building up inside him.
A menacing and devilishly sexy smirk ghosted his face as he pictured Angela's gaping expression from earlier. "Angela…" he scoffed. "Who do you think you are?"
Chapter 11: 11：Who do you think you are?
She was pretty and her cheeks were flushed pink. It could be the sun… but it could also be because she was flustered upon laying her eyes on the man that she hadn't seen since that night. That man whose lies she used in her first book.
Her cheek was twitching again and she was beginning to think that she had to see a nerve doctor. What were they called? — Neurologists! Right. She should probably have to see one. Because right now, her cheek had been twitching. Or was she mistaken and she was actually stopping herself from smiling?
Why would she smile?! What was she expecting? That he would remember her? For all she knows, he might have forgotten her already. After all, he looked like the kind who did 'Wham bam thank you ma'am's'!
'Look at him,' her inner voice told her.
He was tall and gorgeous with perfect hair. He had chiseled jaw and sharp nose and—abs, his abs were slightly tanned. And his abs glistened – like a friggin' Twilight Vampire.
And his face, he looked the same but also not. Yet he looked as handsome as she remembered him to be. His five o'clock shadow made her swallow as a certain memory from that one night they spent suddenly played in her head. That time when he was all over her… and she was all over him. And that his stubble grazed her skin in the most delicious—What the hell was she thinking right now!?
Angela watched as the man walked towards her. Her feet were still rooted in the uneven sand and she might possibly be wobbling at the moment but she wouldn't know because she was trying so hard not to pee. Being nervous made her want to pee.
Everything went by like a slow-mo. You know like when you're watching a movie—and the male lead was approaching the female lead very slowly, accompanied by a really nice background music? It was similar to that, only this wasn't what she was expecting for. She certainly wasn't excited to see this man again. How awkward!
What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say?
He's coming…
Oh, dear god, he's coming…
He's…
What?!
What the—
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Angela's knees wobbled and she had to straighten herself to turn around. The man just went past her!!!She was so sure that he was certainly and absolutely looking at her as he was walking! They made eye contact! But why? Why the hell did he walk past her?
'Was he blind? Did he not see me?'
Angela gaped and scoffed as she watched the man's retreating back. He was walking towards the rooms and away from the beach. He did not even look back at her. The jerk acted as if he didn't know her at all!
Was she supposed to be happy and thankful that he ignored her? That was what she wanted, right? She didn't want anything to do with him. How awkward would it be if he found out that she used his tales in her books and even used him as her character reference?
…
Gael entered his suite and headed straight to his bathroom to take a shower. Little Ashton spilled his orange juice all over him while he was on the sunbed. He felt all sticky and he just wanted to change.
And there she was, standing awkwardly in the sand, gaping at him like she had seen a ghost. He looked right at her, unashamed that he stared and his stare lingered on her body. She was dressed nicely. Her bust was full and round just like before, her waist was still small—he imagined that he could carry her over his shoulder like a caveman without a sweat, her hair was shorter now though but she still looked ho—he would not go there. Nope.
He was here to collect interests. She's long overdue and she owed him big time. 'No playing games, Gael,' he told himself. But first, he needed a shower and a change. He could deal with her later. They were on an island. Where was she going to run off to?
She was probably pissed when he walked past her judging by the scoff that he heard behind him. He didn't look back as he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Whatever she expected from him — he would never give it to her.
If she was hoping for a hookup, boy was she going to be disappointed. Gael never does a repeat after a one-night stand.
Gael stripped off all his clothes and tossed it in the hamper. Stepping in the shower, he turned it on and rainfall-like water poured from above him, wetting his hair, his face, and his body. Steam covered the room as he stood under the large shower head, trying to calm himself down from the rage that was building up inside him.
A menacing and devilishly sexy smirk ghosted his face as he pictured Angela's gaping expression from earlier. "Angela…" he scoffed. "Who do you think you are?"
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