Oh, hell no! She wasn’t prepared for this. It was Saturday. It was supposed to be a Devil-free day! The weekend was supposed to be her respite from the insanity that was his flippin’ life. And she needed the damn break!
“No! No way! Nuh uh! Not happening!” Molly shook her head frantically as she waved her arms in front of her while Devil merely raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m going to need a complete sentence, sweetheart, if you expect me to hold a conversation,” Devil teased as he watched her auburn hair bounce over her shoulders and her shirt ride up her torso exposing a tantalizing strap of her milky flesh as she flapped her arms around.. Damn, she was gorgeous first thing in the morning.
“Fine! You want a sentence?” she blustered. “Here’s one for you! GET! OUT! Get out of my kitchen. Get out of my house! Just get freaking out!” she ordered shrilly, jabbing her finger toward the back door.
“Hmmm,” Devil hummed, calmly folding the newspaper he held into sections. “I don’t think so. You and I have some things we still need to discuss. Starting with last night, Molly.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think so. See, there was no last night. I’ve banished all the events of the previous twenty-four hours from my memory, including that little announcement you made to your grandmother,” Molly retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, I suggest you fix that situation ASAP!”
Devil couldn’t help his smile. She looked endearing in her floppy house shoes and tussled faded pajamas. The lavender tee shirt she wore looked soft and molded to her body in all the right places while her boxer shorts showed him a tantalizing amount of her toned legs. He definitely approved of the ensemble.
“Quit leering at me,” she ordered sharply, wishing she’d thought to throw on a robe before she left her bedroom. “How did you even get in here?” she asked, looking around. Chanel usually raised the roof when somebody came into the condo.
“Honey, I never left,” Devil informed her evenly. “Once you barricaded yourself in your bedroom, I bunked down on your couch last night, and let me tell you, that thing gives a whole new meaning to the words ‘torture device.’”
Ignoring the slur he’d made to her furniture, Molly stared at him. How in the name of all that was holy could he still look as gorgeous as he did right then if he’d not even been home? His dark hair was slightly tussled and his dress shirt was ever-so-rumpled, but that did nothing to quell the smoldering sexual heat that seemed to roll off him in waves. And for some freaking reason, his slightly swollen lip and bruised cheek only made his damned smirking face even more appealing. “You never left?” she repeated, somewhat stunned.
“Nope.” Cocking his head as she continued to stand just inside the kitchen door and stare at him, Devil gestured toward the dining room chair across from him. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some coffee?”
Shaking her head, Molly opened and closed her mouth several times. “What’s it going to take, Devil? Do I need to nail a cross to the front door? Sprinkle salt across my threshold? Empty a super soaker of holy water on you? Just tell me! What the hell do I do to get rid of you?”
“I’m not a vampire, Molly,” Devil stated with exaggerated patience.
“No! You’re Satan. Sent from the fires of hell to torment me until my dying day, it appears,” she hissed, stomping toward the coffee pot on the back of her stove.
Looking over his shoulder, he followed her angry movements and winced as she slammed a mug against the counter. “I’d have gotten that for you,” he pointed out solicitously.
“I didn’t want you to get it for me,” Molly ground out as she wrapped her fingers around the warm mug and brought it to her lips. “I want you to leave.”
“Nope. Can’t do that,” Devil returned lightly. “Things to talk about, remember?”
Pressing one hand to her temple, Molly swallowed that first bitter mouthful of coffee and prayed the caffeine would work quickly to sharpen her wits. She needed every single one of her marbles today if she was going to resist killing the infuriating man that made himself all too comfortable inside her home.
“We’re not discussing last night. Last night did not happen,” Molly repeated sternly. And oh, how she wished that was true. She had a feeling that living down that humiliation was going to be worse than the time she tucked her dress in her pantyhose after using the bathroom at church and mooned half the congregation. It didn’t matter that she was only twelve at the time; to this day, her fellow parishioners still snickered whenever she exited the bathroom. Shame and degradation should have been her middle names.
And yet, she’d persevered then as she would now.
Onward, Christian soldier.
“Oh, I’ve got a couple of bruises that say differently,” Devil retorted, wincing as he touched his marred cheek. “You pack a hell of a punch for a tiny thing.”
“First, you only have yourself to blame. Not only did you antagonize me into hitting you, but you are the one that taught me to aim high. Second, there’s nothing tiny about me. I’m curvy and I know it. I refuse to be one of those walking, talking sticks that you seem to gravitate toward.”
“What?”
“You have a type, Devil. Don’t pretend that you don’t know it.” Molly scowled at him as she finally sat down in the chair across from him. “Evidently, you like your women starving. I, however, like to eat,” she continued, plucking a donut from the box on the table for emphasis and chomping down on it.
“You’re being ridiculous. I’ve dated a variety of women over the past year.”
“Yeah, and they all look remarkably like a stick with arms,” Molly muttered around a mouthful of Krispy Kreme, sighing in delight as the sugar hit her tongue. Sweet Jesus in heaven, there was nothing better than one of these Southern-recipe, chocolate-covered round treats. If she wasn’t ready to kill the man, she might have thanked him for breakfast. But she was certain that was never, ever gonna happen anytime soon.
“I’m not having that argument with you, Molly Brown. You’re trying to sink my boat before I even leave the port.”
“I don’t just want to sink your boat, Devil, honey,” Molly drawled sweetly, dropping her half-eaten donut back in the box. “I wanna torpedo it!”
“Well, don’t pussyfoot around things, darlin’. Tell me how you really feel,” Devil drawled with a slow smile as he sat back in his chair.
God’s teeth, but she was gonna commit a crime before noon if he kept this up. So smug and sure of himself! What she wouldn’t give to knock him down a peg or two. She needed to remember to ask Viv if it was truly assault if she only just slightly maimed the man. After all, it might be quite difficult to find another job if she had a felony conviction for killing her boss on her record. Shaking her head, she ordered sharply, “Stop smilin’ at me like the cat that done went and caught the canary, Devil!”
“Honey, I’m the fox that got into the henhouse if I’m anything at all,” he replied lazily.
“What you are is a burr on the butt of humanity. You’re a blight on the city of Atlanta! You’re a…”
Holding up his hands, Devil laughed. “I think I take your point, Molly, but we’re still gonna talk about what happened between us last night.”
“Why?” Molly whined, burying her head in her hands. “Why can’t you just leave bad enough alone?” She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, but she didn’t dare look him in the eye. She knew she was transparent as glass, and if he looked her in the eyes he’d know just how badly he’d shaken her confidence last night. If he realized just how much she truly wanted him, he’d use it against her to get his own way. She refused to just hand him the upper hand. She had an engagement to wriggle out of, damn it.
“I don’t think anything that happened last night was bad, Molly. In fact, it’s gonna happen again. Soon.”
Molly jerked her head up at that. “The hell you say,” she retorted, her cheeks flaming as she glared at him.
“You’re attracted to me, Molly. Admit it,”
Devil challenged her, his gaze daring her to deny what was written all over her face.
“I’m attracted to chocolate, too, but I’m smart enough to figure out that I shouldn’t have it with every meal.” Ignoring his chuckle, Molly shook her head. “Listen, Devil. I’m not indifferent to the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into with Nana. Really, I understand. But I can’t marry you.”
“Yes, you can. You already told Nana that you were going to,” he said reasonably.
“I’ll tell her that I lied,” Molly yelped desperately, ready to grasp at any straw available to her. She had to find a way out of this mess before Devil broke her heart.
He would, too. She knew it.
“And break a dying woman’s heart?” Devil raised an eyebrow as he leveled a hard look across the table at her.
Molly squirmed under the scrutiny of that stare. Could that demon really read her mind? Slapping her hands against the table, Molly grimaced. “Well, hell!”
“That’s what I thought,” Devil said with a satisfied smirk.
“There’s got to be a way out of this, Dev. We’ll tell Nana that we had a falling out. You can even tell her it was all my fault,” she added magnanimously, nodding rapidly as she tried to convince herself of the little plan.
“And ruin Nana’s dying wish that I be happily married?” Devil asked. “Molly, I never thought you were a cruel woman,” he chided, pursing his lips as she he shook his head at her again.
“I’m not! Just listen. After a few days, you can introduce one of the troop of tramps you have on standby to her. I’ll even help you pick one out. God knows, you have a diverse selection. What about Carolyn? I liked her!”
“I am not marrying Carolyn,” Devil replied impatiently, rolling his eyes as he reached for another doughnut. “She’s clingy and she whines. A lot.”
“I whine a lot, too,” Molly retorted. “Especially when I’m forced to wed whackjobs with a Napoleon complex,” she grumbled.
“Carolyn’s out, Molly,” Devil declared flatly, shooting the redhead a telling look.
“Well, cheese and rice! Fine, then! She doesn’t deserve to be saddled with an ass like you anyway,” Molly huffed, drumming her fingers on the table as she flipped through the mental dossier of Devil’s trollops in her mind. “What about the Cleopatra wannabe? Now that’s a woman that deserves being married to Satan incarnate,” she declared with a firm nod.
“No,” Devil denied harshly, his tone implacable.
“Well, I know why I don’t like her, but what do you find so repugnant about her?” Molly asked, frowning at the man across from her.
“She insulted you,” Devil replied simply, devouring his breakfast in three bites. “Nobody does that.”
“Nobody other than you, you mean,” Molly muttered, absently tugging at the neckline of her t-shirt.
“Excuse me? When have I ever insulted you?” he asked sharply, crushing the paper he held in his hand and dropping it to the table before leaning forward in his chair.
“How about when you assumed that I’d settle for some mockery of a marriage. I mean, I know that I might not be a model, but I think I can do better than settling for a loveless union, don’t you?”
Devil’s jaw dropped as he stared at Molly, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t quite define. Regret? Guilt? She wasn’t sure.
“You know how much I care about you,” he said softly, reaching across the table to touch her fingers.
Drawing her hand back quickly and closing her eyes, Molly took a deep breath. “Caring about someone isn’t the same as being in love with them, Dev. You care about your business. You love your wife. At least, I think you’re supposed to. Maybe I’m romanticizing things, but I think there should be more than just affection between two people before you slide a gold ring on somebody’s finger.”
“Molly…” Devil hesitated and grimaced. He looked like he’d swallowed a hot poker.
Looking over at him, Molly suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for putting him on the spot. “I know why you did what you did, Devil,” she said quietly, letting out a deep sigh. “I wish you’d picked somebody other than the person that was standing closest to you, but I do understand wanting to give your grandmother some piece of mind. Maybe we could drag out this faux engagement of ours.”
“No,” Devil denied, narrowing his eyes as he grasped for any way to keep this beautiful woman in his grasp. “She wants to see us married. Me and you – a girl she watched grow up. Not some stranger that she doesn’t know anything about. You. I’m sorry for forcing your hand, Mols. I really am, but I need to give her what she wants. I owe Nana everything. All I have…everything I’ve done… it’s because she never gave up on me. When my Momma and Daddy died, she took me in. She and Granddaddy could barely support themselves, but they found a way to take care of me, too. And she never asked for a thing in return. I promised myself when I grew up that I’d find a way to give them anything they wanted. The thing was, they didn’t want anything money could buy. They wanted me happy. Married. With children. That’s what they wanted. And this is what I have to do.”
Molly’s face fell at his impassioned speech. Damn. There was no way she could disappoint him and his grandmother. Why did she have this unnatural desire to make him happy when all she really wanted to do was bury him where his body would never be found? “Why does it have to be me, Devil?”
“I trust you, Molly. I don’t trust many people. I especially do not trust many women. But, I trust you.”
Sizzle: Chapter Nineteen
“I trust you, Molly. I don’t trust many people. I especially do not trust many women. But, I trust you.”
That much was completely true, he silently consoled himself. There wasn’t a woman on Earth he trusted more than Molly Ramsey. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the way she was raised, or if it was just the innate purity she held in her soul, but the woman she’d become didn’t know how to lie. Not convincingly.
Oh, he’d seen her try to tell some half-hearted whoppers over the years, but they’d always fallen flat. His Molly simply didn’t have the poker face it took to pull off prevarication.
Unlike him.
He had made an art form of deceit and dishonesty. In his business, it was a requirement. He’d never broken the law, but he wasn’t above projecting one image to somebody while clandestinely aiming for an entirely different goal. He played the game and he played it well.
For him, the end justified the means.
It’s what had made him so successful. Hell, he’d gotten rich by wheeling and dealing. Unfortunately, it also might be the one aspect of his personality that guaranteed him to fail with Molly.
Being completely honest with her now, however, would be a mistake. If she knew just how deeply he felt for her, she’d either assume he was lying and cut him off at the knees – or separate him from something much more important that he was fairly certain he could not live without. Or - and this was the part he worried about the most - the truth would send her screaming for the hills.
Either way, she’d never agree to become his wife.
And that was not an option he was willing to contemplate.
So, for now, he wouldn’t outright lie to her, but instead simply tell her the partial truths she needed to know in order to make her peace with marrying him. After that, he’d have more time to make sure he could get the future he truly wanted.
“You trust me,” she echoed, lifting startled eyes to his.
“That surprises you?” he asked with a hint of a smile. Pleased, he realized that he’d said something that had given her a moment’s pause.
“I never really thought about it before,” she admitted with a small frown.
“Molly, do you know why ninety percent of the women I date want to be with me?” he asked, propping his chin on his hand as he stared into her confused eyes.
“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea,” she mumbled, blushing as she reached for her coffee and gulped, barely wincing as the
liquid scalded her tongue.
Snorting, Devil shook his head. “No, honey, you really don’t.” His future bride was truly convinced that he was a horndog that fucked any woman that twitched her tail in his direction. He wasn’t sure how to overcome that misconception. Especially since he was the idiot that had cultivated his reputation.
He only knew he had to try and make her understand that what she’d believed for so long wasn’t entirely accurate. He just needed to be careful about the methods he used to do it. Waiting until she’d put her mug back on the table, he remarked, “Molly, I’m very rich.”
“So what?” Molly shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“Exactly. That’s one of the many reason that you’re the only woman for me,” he said with a wide smile. He adored the fact that Molly didn’t give a damn about what he could offer her materially. Oh, he’d give her anything she wanted. There was no doubt in his mind about that. But, like his Nana, the promise of monetary compensation wasn’t what guided her decisions. It hadn’t ever crossed his intended’s mind that she could milk him for every penny he had. It wasn’t her style.
“Huh?” Molly grunted, cocking her head as she looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“You don’t care,” he commented with a satisfied nod.
“Devil, I’m not following a word you’re saying. How hard did I hit you last night? You got a concussion?” Molly worried aloud, peering at his forehead with concern.
Chuckling, Devil sighed. “My head is fine. What I’m trying to say is that most of those women I’ve dated were only interested in one thing. My money, Mols. They wanted what they could get from me. With you, I’d never have to worry about that. You couldn’t give a damn how much wealth I’ve accumulated.”
“Meaning I won’t rob you blind when we inevitably divorce,” Molly surmised, leaning back in her chair as she grabbed her half-eaten doughnut and took another bite. “Okay, you’ve got a point there.”
“Thank you, but that’s not exactly what I meant,” he murmured uncomfortably. The words “inevitably” and “divorce” sent a chill down his spine. He hadn’t even married her, and she already had one eye focused on a divorce. He knew he shouldn’t blame her. As far as she was concerned, this was a farce...but it still stung.
The Sizzle Saga Page 11
