by Ward, J. R.
Emotions running high, A.J. lashed out. “Just because you recruited the only other Froot Loop in the business with taste in clothes as bad as your own doesn’t mean you’re a lock for success. You need more than a stunning lack of fashion sense and a blind tailor to win in the ring.”
Peter lunged at her, catching everyone by surprise.
In the nick of time, Devlin stepped forward to protect her, blocking the way.
“Back off, Conrad,” he said darkly.
All around them, people were turning curious eyes toward the scuffle, eager for more drama to unfold.
A.J. was shocked by Peter’s outburst. They’d always argued but he’d never lost control like that before. Hearing his labored breaths, feeling her own heart pounding in her chest, she found herself truly regretting their relationship. Why did things always end up badly between them?
Tangled in her own thoughts, she watched mutely as Peter stepped away from Devlin. Her stepbrother tugged his tuxedo jacket in place with hands that shook.
With the situation defused, Marceau took the opportunity to insert himself gallantly in front of his new partner. “Do not arch to her level.”
“That’s stoop to my level,” A.J. corrected absently.
Devlin took her elbow. “I think we should go.”
“Yes, do remove her,” Philippe said. “With your leg, I imagine babysitting is all that you are good for now.”
Emotion surged again and a stinging retort came to the tip of A.J.’s tongue. But, instead of going with her instinct, she cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “Good night, Philippe. Peter.”
Her stepbrother’s voice was bitter. “You’re going to regret this.”
“You know something, I think you’re right,” she replied. “In fact, I think I’m beginning to feel sorry for us.”
Peter looked at her with utter confusion before she and Devlin left for the foyer.
When they got to the front door, they paused.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said. “Again.”
“There’s a lot of anger between the two of you.”
“Yes. But it’s high time to change that. I just wish I knew how.”
As much as Peter could be a source of intense frustration, she didn’t hate him and knew he wasn’t truly evil. She also was beginning to see her own role in their dysfunction. If she took a moment to think about it, what she was really upset about were the unresolved issues between her and Devlin and the amount of time her injury had cost her training. The announcement about Marceau, and Peter’s jabs, had given her something to react to and had unleashed her anxieties. Add to all that the fact Peter knew how to play her well, and ka-boom.
“I don’t like arguing with him. I really don’t,” she said softly.
Aware she’d been silent for a long time, she looked up into Devlin’s eyes and forgot about Peter and her family and her concern over the lost training. Everything else drifted away.
“Is this good night?” she asked him.
“Only if that’s what you want. I came here to talk with you.”
A couple walked by and peered over curiously.
“Why don’t I walk you to your car?” she asked.
He smiled. “Isn’t that a man’s job?”
“In this neighborhood, you never know what’ll happen after dark. You might get accosted by a bond trader or some rabid media mogul.”
“Better than some twenty-year-old Internet guru who’s hit the skids,” he said, opening the front door.
As they stepped free of the house, they were greeted by the crisp night air. The noise of the party faded away, and her ears rang in the silence.
Before anything could be said, they were approached by one of the uniformed parking attendants who’d been hired for the night. The boy must have been in his late teens and he was wearing a black blazer that was too big for him and a pair of running shoes. Shrugging, Devlin handed over his ticket and the kid went sprinting off down the driveway, out of sight.
“As far as privacy goes, I guess this didn’t make a lot of sense,” A.J. whispered. “I forgot about the valets.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the lineup of young men loitering around.
“We can drive around the block and park,” he suggested.
“Like two kids hiding from their parents?” A.J. giggled, partially because she found the idea funny, mostly because she felt anxious about what he would say when they were alone.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed hearing your laugh.”
Her breath caught. She saw his hand rise up and nearly touch her elbow, but then he hesitated.
“I came tonight to ask for forgiveness,” he told her quietly. “To apologize. And to ask you to come home.”
A.J. flushed with happiness and was sorely tempted to throw her arms around him and tell him that was exactly what she’d hoped he’d say. But she needed more from him. She was far too in love to be able to risk going back to the farmhouse without a clear understanding of where things stood between them.
The fleet-footed attendant returned without a vehicle. The kid looked worried. “Excuse me, sir. I can’t find your car.”
“Maybe because it’s a truck,” Devlin said dryly.
“You mean that thing? With the bed all bent out of shape?”
“I know she’s not pretty but she’s sound under the hood.”
“It’s the back end I was worried about.” Abruptly, the boy blushed and shut his mouth.
“What happened to the truck?” A.J. asked.
Devlin clapped a hand on the kid’s shoulder, slipping him a couple of dollars. “Not to worry. I’ll go get her myself.”
“Hey, thanks,” the boy said, looking at the cash. “But I didn’t earn this.”
“With that crowd in there”—Devlin nodded over his shoulders—“you most certainly will have by the end of the night.
The teenager looked happy as he rejoined his friends.
“What happened to the truck?” A.J. asked again.
“Nothing good.” Devlin shrugged and noted her shivering. “Should you go in? It’ll kill me but I can wait until tomorrow if it means you don’t get the flu.”
She shook her head, thinking she didn’t care if it was snowing and she was barefoot. She was determined to hear him out.
“Come on,” she said, and started down the driveway, heading in the general direction she’d seen the attendant go. Devlin caught up with her, slipped his jacket over her shoulders and fell into step at her side.
“It’s to the left,” he said as they approached the end of the driveway.
She turned blindly.
“No, your other left.”
She went the other way.
Down at the end of a long line of cars, standing out among the Mercedes and Jaguars, the truck was a workhorse in a field of Thoroughbreds. As Providence would have it, the thing had been parked right under a streetlamp and the added light wasn’t kind to its fading paint job or the recent damage.
Which was extensive, A.J. noted.
“Good Lord! What happened?” she exclaimed, going in for a closer look. Crushed and mangled as it was, she wondered why the bed was still attached to the cab. “You back into something? Like maybe a wrecking ball?”
“Run-in with a tree limb.”
“That fell out of the sky like a meteor!”
“Yeah, something like that,” Devlin muttered.
A.J. inspected the truck briefly.
“Those are beautiful earrings,” he remarked when she came back and stood in front of him.
“Thank you. They were a gift from my father.”
“They’re a magnificent color.” She watched as his hand reached out and caressed one of the stones. “Although I prefer the red in your hair.”
She warmed under the husky desire behind his words but remembered she should be wary. “Devlin, I—”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so damned sorry. I can’t bel
ieve I yelled at you when you were injured and hurting. And then left, for chrissakes. I don’t blame you for being mad. I’ve thought about nothing except you for the last week, trying to come up with a rational explanation for my behavior, some way of explaining why I became so unglued. When I saw you go down, I was terrified, absolutely terrified. I had images of you in a hospital bed, never to get up again. In retrospect, that was highly unlikely but I wasn’t thinking clearly. When you were able to get to your feet, I thought, Okay, she’s all right. But then you got up on that stallion, who was halfway to insane and looking like he was going to jump out of his skin, and I felt like I was in a nightmare. It was awful, watching you hold yourself up by will alone, driving that panic-stricken animal over those jumps.”
He shook his head with regret. “When you wouldn’t go to the doctor, I lost it. I wanted to throttle you for not taking care of yourself, for making me feel so afraid. There was the woman I loved, nearly fainting from—”
“Wait a minute. What did you say?”
“I felt like I was in a nightmare—”
“No, no. After that.”
“I was feeling out of control.”
“A little further.”
“The woman I love—” Devlin halted, cocking his head to one side.
A.J. felt a glow all over her body.
“The woman I love.” He spoke the words slowly. “I said that. I really said that.”
“You seem surprised.” Her smile grew more radiant.
He laughed. “Only because it feels so natural. Considering how long it’s been since I said it, I would’ve assumed I’d be more rusty. Well, that and the fact that the last time I was talking to a horse.”
When he reached for her, she went into his arms.
“I really do love you,” he said urgently. “You’re everything to me. Whenever I look into your eyes, I can’t explain what happens. I just feel new.”
They were the words she’d wanted to hear from him, grounding and earth-shattering at the same time. And she knew that she loved him back. Fiercely.
Dropping his head down to hers, he murmured, “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes,” she said against his lips. “I think I can.”
Their mouths fused with a special softness, as if they were kissing for the first time, and she felt his fingers brush against the side of her neck tenderly. In that moment, she couldn’t remember the pain she’d been feeling or the separation that had torn them apart.
When they pulled back, she was smiling.
“If I thought it was going to get me this far, I would have fallen off that stallion on day one.”
The wind brushed against them.
“We need to get you out of the cold,” he said.
“And out of this dress.”
“Now, that’s a fine idea. Come home with me.”
“I want to.” She arched her breasts against his chest. “You have no idea how much I want to.”
“So get into my chariot, sweet princess.”
“I can’t.” She sighed. “After my father’s birthday parties, he and I go into his study and light a candle for my mother. It’s their anniversary. They were married thirty-four years ago tonight.”
Devlin swallowed his frustration. “You can’t miss that.”
“I’ll come tomorrow morning.”
“For breakfast.”
“Maybe a little earlier.”
“Promise?”
His tongue slid into her mouth and she grabbed on to his shoulders. As his hands traveled down from her waist to cup her buttocks, he drew her against his lower body. When they finally parted, his eyes glittered in the moonlight.
“I better go,” he drawled, “before I can’t leave.”
“I wish I were going with you.”
“If you were, I’d cancel my date tonight.”
“You have a date?”
“With a cold shower. As soon as I walk in the door.” He nodded to the truck. “You want a ride back to the house?”
“No, I think I’ll walk.” A.J. wanted a moment alone to savor what had happened before rejoining the noise and crush of the party.
Opening the door, he got into the cab, a gentleman in a farmer’s truck. She liked the image.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She started to take off his jacket.
“No, keep it. It’s a long walk back.” From out of the open window, Devlin was smiling at her with a wistfulness she didn’t normally associate with him. “Come here.”
She stepped in close. Gently, he took her face into his hands.
“Good night, my love.” The words were soft against her lips. And then he was gone.
The next morning dawned cold, just a degree or two above frost. Before anyone else was even stirring, A.J. got out of bed, showered and packed. In a rush, her bag slapping against the corners of antique sideboards, tables and chairs as she hustled through the rooms of the mansion, she was halfway to the back door when she remembered Devlin’s tuxedo jacket. Dropping her things, she doubled back, retrieved the coat and ran free of the house without getting caught.
Behind the wheel of the Mercedes, speeding to the farmhouse, she was wide-awake, despite having had little sleep the night before. After Devlin had left, she’d drifted up to the mansion on a cloud of bliss, entering the party with a secret smile only her father recognized as evidence of the reconciliation. When the celebration finally let up, she and Garrett went into his study and lit a single white candle, which they placed on the mantelpiece, below the portrait of A.J.’s mother.
“You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” he said softly as they stared into the glow.
There was a pause and A.J. replied, “It’s time for me to start training again. My arm’s almost healed. But how did you know?”
“You’re radiant and I know you disappeared for a while with…Are you going back to him?”
She didn’t want to reveal too much but she wasn’t going to lie. “We did get a chance to talk.”
“And he’s righted a wrong, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, he has.”
“Please be careful.”
“Are you warning me because you don’t like him?”
“No. Because I love you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. Sometime, I’ll call.” She turned to go.
“Arlington?”
“Yes?” She faced him again.
“Your mother would have liked him. He’s a strong man and I can see in his eyes the love he has for you.”
Her father wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was staring up at the portrait. When at last he pivoted around, A.J. saw him framed against the image of her mother. Tears came to her eyes.
“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered.
As they embraced, A.J.’s eyes drifted up to meet her mother’s.
Yes, she thought. Mummy would have liked him.
Pulling into Devlin’s driveway, she couldn’t wait to go up to the farmhouse but, as soon as she stepped out of the car, she heard Sabbath whinny for her. Hastily scooting into the stable, she opened the top of his stall door. The horse’s head came out like it was sprung from a toaster and he snuffled over her.
“I’m back,” she reassured him as she slipped him a sugar cube.
After a few more moments with the stallion, during which she checked his water and ran her hands over his legs to reassure herself, for the umpteenth time, that he wasn’t lame from their debacle, she took a deep breath. He was good to go. And so was she.
A.J. shut the stall door, and with an erotic anticipation that had her burning, she rushed back to her car, picked up the tuxedo jacket and her bag and ran to the farmhouse. She found Devlin in the kitchen, filling the coffeepot with water. As soon as she came into the room, he dropped what he was doing and captured her in an embrace that bent her almost in half. Lips clamoring together, hands searching out zippers and buttons, they undre
ssed their way up to his bedroom and collapsed in a mad tumble onto his bed. When he entered her with a deep, hard drive, his name left her lips in an explosion as their bodies came together, thrusting and pounding. With a shattering of sensation, they gripped each other fiercely as they were overcome by white heat.
After they came back down to earth, it was a while before Devlin lifted his head and spoke.
“Sorry about that. Usually I have a little more self-control.”
A.J. licked his lower lip, making him groan. “Discipline is overrated, in my book,” she said.
“God, I want you all over again.”
In the silence of the morning, they heard noises drift up from the barn.
“Chester’s here,” he muttered, wishing for once his old friend would have had the courtesy of being late to work.
In a tornado of shirts and blue jeans, the two scrambled into their clothes, just making it to the kitchen as the groom burst through the front door. He was wearing a happy grin.
“Well, it’s just fine to have the family back together again,” he said, looking over at A.J.
“Sure is,” Devlin said, going back to the coffeepot. He’d left the water on and the sink was close to overflowing.
Chester noted the near-accident with a knowing smirk before asking A.J., “Are ya rough-ridin’ ready?”
She smiled as she sat down. “And rarin’ to go.”
“Well, so’s that stallion, let me tell ya. Almost pulled m’ arm out a’ the socket yesterday on the lead line.” The groom settled down at the table as Devlin pushed his breakfast in front of him. “Speakin’ of arms, how’s yours feelin’?”
“Perfect. Just perfect.” She flexed for him, hiding a wince with laughter. “Sabbath was so happy to see me this morning, he was on the verge of speech.”
“He’s missed you, all right,” Devlin said as he put a couple of English muffins under the broiler.
“And wasn’t the only one,” Chester interjected. “This one with the nooks an’ crannies was miserable to be around.”
“I wasn’t that bad.”
“Compared to someone with their foot in a bear trap, maybe.”
After the muffins were done, Devlin threw them onto a plate and offered them to A.J. Taking a few for himself, he settled down into his chair, stretched his long legs under the table and rubbed his foot against her ankle. She smiled at him.
