Sensuous Angel Read Online Free Page A

shake the man. He did know something, she was certain. He was holding back. Playing with her in a strange fashion! Or else he was seeking information, just as she was.
    “You do know him!” she exclaimed in accusation. “Why are you denying it?”
    He half smiled, his features twisted into a handsome mask of subtle amusement. “I never denied it.”
    “Then please—tell me how to find him. Can’t you see how important it is that I get to meet him?”
    “And why is that?”
    “He’s the only one who can give me any answers!” Donna exclaimed, her exasperation growing.
    “About your friend, you mean.”
    Donna sighed deeply. The man was testing her patience further than the police had. “Yes, Father, I told you—”
    “Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “You told me all about your friend. But you also told me that she had written to you and that she was apparently fine when she wrote.”
    Donna stared at him incredulously. She shook her head. “Is it New Yorkers, Father? Or is it just me? How could someone not be concerned under the circumstances?”
    “Just what do you want to know, Ms. Miro?”
    “That Lorna is all right!”
    She was almost shouting. No, there was no “almost” to it. She was shouting. She felt as if she had left planet Earth and had come across a strange alien who spoke English, but didn’t really comprehend the language.
    “What if I assured you that your friend was fine?”
    Donna stared at him tensely, her fingers knotting around each other. “Father, I’m sorry, but I’m not really sure I can trust anything that you say. You won’t even answer a simple question with a yes or a no!”
    He laughed suddenly. “Ms. Miro, I’m not terribly sure that I can trust you. And it isn’t my right to trust you, really.”
    “Oh, Lord!” Donna moaned. “You make no sense!”
    “Sorry.”
    “Is that all that you can say? Father, please! Do you or do you not know Andrew McKennon?”
    Ignoring her question, he countered, “What would make you happy, Ms. Miro?”
    “Father, I would be happy if I could see Lorna.”
    “Ah…” he murmured. “Of course.”
    Donna ignored the skepticism in his voice and stared straight at the flames. She had to remain cool and calm and not give
    way to his piercing eyes and manner. She was beginning to feel that New York was peopled entirely by lunatics. And you had to deal with lunatics very carefully.
    “Ms. Miro, you have to realize that I don’t know you from Adam.”
    “What?” Donna gasped.
    “Precisely what I said.” The priest laughed. “You’re asking me questions but I know nothing about you. You’re a total stranger to me.”
    “Father, one of us is totally insane.”
    He chuckled—a husky sound like smooth velvet that made her very uneasy. “Not insane, Ms. Miro. I’d say we’re just skirting around one another carefully.”
    “Are we?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, could you skirt around a little less carefully then? Do I look dangerous, Father? You just rescued me from a mugger, so it seems unlikely that I could cause anyone harm.”
    “Oh, Ms. Miro, I get the impression that you could be very dangerous. In many ways.”
    His words didn’t make sense but his eyes did. She realized that he had assessed her fully as a woman and decided that he hadn’t found her lacking. What kind of a priest was this man?
    Donna blinked uneasily, drawing her eyes from his unnerving green and gold stare. She stupidly began to notice little things about the room. It was a pleasant room, extremely comfortable with the overstuffed sofa, light marble hearth, and carved oak desk. She noted that ferns and vines climbed and scurried from attractive wicker planters about the rosewood bookshelves that boasted a wide variety of reading material—nonecclesiastical. In fact, there was nothing in particular in the room to indicate that the man was a priest at all.
    “Ms. Miro,” he began again, his tone changing to one that was strictly business, “I