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Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

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F R A N C I N E R I V E R S

4

Despite his twenty-six years, Michael felt like a callow youth, standing outside

Angel’s open door in the dim lantern light of the brothel hallway. He

could scarcely breathe, his heart was racing so fast. She was even more beautiful

than he remembered, and smaller. Her slender body was clearly outlined

in the blue satin wrapper, and he tried not to look below her shoulders.

She stepped aside so he could enter her room. All Michael saw was her

bed. It was made, but visions came to him unbidden and, unnerved, he

looked back at her. She smiled slightly. It was a worldly, seductive smile. She

knew everything that was in his mind, even what he didn’t want there.

“What’s your pleasure, mister?”

Her voice was low and soft and surprisingly cultured, but she was so

direct, he was taken aback. She couldn’t have said anything to make him

more acutely aware of what she did for her living, or of his own powerful

physical attraction to her.

As he entered the room, Angel closed the door behind him and leaned

back against it. She waited for him to answer while making a quick assessment

of him. Her uneasiness lessened. He wasn’t so different from the rest.

Just a little older than most, a little broader in the shoulders. He was no boy,

but he looked uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. Maybe he had a wife

somewhere and was feeling guilty. Maybe he had a good Christian mother

and was wondering what she would think about his coming to a prostitute.

This one wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time with her. Good. The less time,

the better.

Michael didn’t know what to say. He had been thinking about seeing her

all day, and now that he was here in her bedroom he stood mute, his heart

beating its way up into his throat. She was so beautiful, and she looked

amused. Lord, what now? I can’t even think past what I’m feeling. She walked

toward him, every movement drawing his attention to her body.

Angel touched his chest and heard him suck in his breath. She moved

around him, smiling. “No need to be shy with me, mister. Tell me what you

want.”

He looked down at her. “You.”

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