by Sheila Kell
“We have to go in and see what we can find out about where they might have gone. Then”—she stretched out the word—“we call in your brothers and Kate.”
“Dammit, Rylee! This isn’t a game. If Carver did have them, then that man by the barn could be a guard on a shoot first and ask questions later order.”
She shrugged as if tossing aside what he’d said. “I know how to get us in. It’s easy.”
Screaming a big, “Hell no!” was the first thing that came to mind, but Devon decided he needed to remain calm with her. He needed her trust. “You’ve given this some thought, haven’t you?”
“Yes. It’ll work. We go in as lost hikers.”
He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. He had to wonder if this was what AJ went through with Megan when she wanted her story no matter what. “No.”
“Would you do it if it were Kate?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “That depends. Kate tends not to listen.”
“Well, first, I’ve been trained as an FBI agent like she was, so I can handle what comes my way.”
Nodding, he conceded the point, but it didn’t mean he wanted her to go into possible danger. Hell, he didn’t want to go into it himself.
“Second, there’s only one person there, and we’re just asking for water and directions.”
He could be overreacting as it was, like she said, only one guy. He was used to his brothers doing this stuff and it unnerved him to think of doing it with or without her.
“Nothing that would pique anyone’s interest,” she added.
Nothing except the homeowner knowing who Devon was.
OVER A DINNER of chicken fajitas, Devon continued his attempt to get to know Rylee. The more he talked, the more she felt they were a part of each other. Stupid though it seemed considering their situation.
“How many stepdads did you have?”
“Four. Mom was married before she wed my dad.” She smiled and once again felt that strange level of comfort telling him something she liked to keep hidden from others. “I don’t remember my first stepdad. I was too young and he wasn’t around long. Mom says he liked to drink too much.” She shrugged. “I think at the time she liked to drink too so he must’ve had a real problem.”
Devon grunted.
“Stepdad number two I remember a little. I was still small and he wasn’t around long either. I can’t remember what Mom said the problem with him was. I do remember he used to bring me presents and liked to hold me on his lap.”
“Like Santa Claus or some pervert?”
Rylee shrugged. “I couldn’t remember, but I’d lean toward Santa Claus. Now, stepdad number three was a piece of work. I don’t know what Mom saw in him.” She shuddered. “I’ll tell you about him another time.”
“Did he hurt you?” Devon’s hoarse voice, filled with emotion, caught her by surprise.
“No. He never laid a hand on me.” Taking a deep breath, her thoughts of her next stepdad brought a smile to her face. “Madison’s dad was the best. He loved his daughter, but he treated me just as well as he did her. He and my mom are still married.” She sighed wistfully. “She finally found her dream of true love.”
“We’ll get there,” he assured her.
Unsure how to respond to his statement, she ignored it and bit into her dinner.
They finished in silence, and after the dishes had been cleaned, Devon collected the dog from outside. Rylee picked up Max, reveling in the comfort of his purring, and then sat on the couch.
The door opened and Angel rushed to her and sniffed the kitten. It appeared Max had a new momma.
“It gets dark as hell out here.” Devon walked over and rubbed the top of Max’s head.
“No city glow.” She looked up at him. “Would you light a fire in the fireplace?”
“I can do that. Are you sure though?” Devon asked. “It’s not that cold inside.”
“It will be later, but it’s more for ambiance.” Rylee shrugged. “The cast iron fireplace is something I love about this cabin and the mountains.”
Devon bent over, his jeans tightening across his butt, and Rylee’s mouth watered. Being attracted to him had never been the problem.
Fire blazing, Devon dropped down in a chair facing the sofa. He swiped a hand over his face, and his other petted the dog sitting beside him. Rylee had a feeling the second hand moved without thought. Angel just might have a new papa.
“It’s been one long day,” he said.
She stood. “It has. And, it’s time for the little one to sleep.” Angel bounded beside her and followed her every movement with Max. When she laid him down on the dog’s bed, Angel curled up next to the kitten and cleaned it.
Devon laughed. “They get along great.”
“I’m so glad Angel found him.”
“I am, too. What do you want to do? Watch a movie? Read a book?”
She wet her lips, nervously. “You said you had a tape of us. Can I watch it?”
He appeared stunned by her request, but quickly recovered. “Hell yeah.” Devon surged from his seat and brought his laptop from the table and settled to the left of her on the sofa. He placed the computer on his lap and after a couple of mouse clicks, she and Devon were pictured on screen. “These are security tape remnants that I was able to pull. I just pieced them together so you’ll see jumps here and there.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his left palm. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
She hated that he was wary of how she’d react. Not being willing to learn more about them had given him the wrong impression. Well, right at the time, but wrong overall. Things had changed. No more running and hiding from her life. “Yes. I’m more than ready.” She smiled what she hoped was her sweetest smile.
After searching her eyes and finding whatever he sought, Devon scooted close enough their legs touched and pressed Play on the video, then he tossed his right arm behind her on the back of the sofa. Ignoring the goose bumps from his closeness, she focused on the computer screen.
They strolled down the strip, hand in hand, and sometimes arm in arm. No matter where they were—in front of a casino, a store, or a restaurant—they constantly sought out the gaze of the other.
She looked to Devon, who watched the screen with a glassy-eyed stare, before returning her gaze to the video he’d compiled. She didn’t look drunk. Neither did he. Yet they’d married. If they’d been in as much lust as she’d witnessed, they could’ve just gone to one of their rooms—no wedding ring necessary.
Although confused about their decision, seeing the two of them so euphoric flipped something in her heart. The couple on the screen appeared to love each other, and they belonged together. That was what she wanted. She sighed. It appeared that she’d had that closeness and couldn’t remember the joy of it or feel the love she witnessed. With a surge of feeling, Rylee knew she would be his wife, and they’d get that love back.
The Rylee and Devon in the video stopped, embraced and kissed. Not just kissed—nearly made out right in the middle of the sidewalk. Watching it heated her blood, and she became more aware of the man beside her… the man she’d been intimate with.
“Rylee,” Devon said softly and leaned closer, obvious that a kiss was what he desired.
And why wouldn’t he after watching the video? Although nervous, she wanted one as well and wouldn’t allow something trivial like how his presence loomed so close that he consumed all the available air to stop her from receiving his kiss. Heck, she’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear the thumping of her heart over the crackle of the fire, it beat so strongly for them.
Craving his touch, Rylee tilted her head in his direction for the kiss he looked ready to deliver. She wanted to tell him without words that she was giving their marriage a chance, too afraid her voice may crack should she vocalize her wish.
Their lips met, and that crazy story built for die-hard romantics about seeing fireworks was real. Lights flashed behind her eyelids as he kissed her lips, feath
ery light at first, just enough to tease… to torment. She allowed him the lead, but she would by no means be a passive participant. When his hand snaked behind her head, she seized the opportunity and inclined her body into him.
Pulling back, Devon peered into her eyes with a big question in his. Was she sure? she read. She hoped her answer—Yes, without hesitation—showed brightly for him to read. In case only she understood, she smiled and wrapped a hand into a tight fist, grasping his shirt in its clutches, and pulled it—and him—back to her. “Kiss me… husband.” Tagging on the endearment hadn’t been planned, but by the look of first shock and then pleasure on his face, she was glad it happened.
“By all means, wife,” he whispered against her mouth. His tongue played at the corners of her lips, taunting, until she sighed and parted them. He took advantage and delved inside, his tongue stroking deep, inciting a small wave of pleasure to ride through her lower abdomen.
A raw, intense urge from deep inside unleashed itself and the need to mold their bodies together, his warmth again her increasing heated body, took hold, and she shifted closer again, trying to obtain that needed contact. Appearing to have had a similar thought, he lifted Rylee and slipped her onto his lap. In that position, she became keenly aware of his growing erection and she sucked in a breath of surprise that she’d affected him so deeply… and so quickly.
“Better,” he murmured before retaking her mouth. His tongue swept deep inside until she tasted the essence of Devon. It was masculinity, strength, and a sweetness only the best of men possessed and allowed a woman to see. Good God, and this was her husband.
Something about him called to her inner being… to her soul. She let out a moan and took control of the kiss, their tongues dancing like they’d been partners in intimacy for years. When he turned her head and tried to resume control, she allowed it, surrendering herself to him, waiting to see where he led them.
A grunt of protest slipped between her lips when he broke the kiss. That wasn’t where she wanted him to go. She shifted on his lap to find some relief from the carnal ache that had seeped into her core.
“Easy,” he rasped against her skin. Leaving behind butterfly kisses, he nibbled and trailed his lips to the corner of her mouth, her cheek, down her jawbone and throat. When he reached the thrumming pulse on her neck, he left goose bumps skittering across her skin.
“You’re mine,” was heard on a growl before Devon nipped at her throat and then earlobe.
Eager, and much too excited, Rylee pulled his shirt from his pants and slipped her hands underneath to his lean, muscled chest. Her palm slid over the heated flesh, fingertips passing through short hairs, and she felt the shudder go through him.
The slide of his hand under her shirt halted her exploration and when his hand grazed the underside of her breast, she thought she’d skyrocket off his lap. Heat infused itself between them and latched onto the fire building inside her. She shifted again and was rewarded with a tortured groan.
Pushing aside her bra, Devon palmed her breast and flicked at the tip of her nipple, which shot a wave of pleasure to her core, amping her need for him. A need she planned to fill in a few short moments.
Slipping her hand into the waistband of his pants, her fingers brushed his hard length that throbbed for her waiting hand. She fumbled with the buttons and when she reached the zipper, Devon grabbed her hand and eased it away.
“We need to stop now, or it’ll be too late,” he said as their breaths mingled, their lips so close.
Her rapidly beating heart and libido didn’t want to agree. But, Rylee rested her forehead against his shoulder, her ear pressed to him, listening to the erratic beating of his heart. Attempting to regulate her heavy breathing was more of a challenge due to the nearness of him, yet she refused to climb off his lap.
“I don’t know what changed your mind about giving us a try, but I’m glad you did.” He turned and with his lips pressed to her hair, whispered, “Let’s wait to move to the next level until we’re more comfortable with each other. I don’t want it to be just… sex with us.”
Christ, this man couldn’t be more perfect. She was glad she’d decided to give them a chance. Waving a hand in front of her face as if fanning herself, she joked, “I’m warm… hot, actually. Maybe we should bank the fire.”
His chest rumbled with his laughter.
She could get used to Devon Hamilton.
THE CACOPHONY OF heavy raindrops on the roof and subsequent bouts of clashing thunder woke Devon at an early hour. Lying in bed, naked as always, but with the sheet covering his midsection, he pulled his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
They’d almost had sex the night before. If he hadn’t stopped her, she’d be lying beside him now, watching the sunrise. That was what he wanted. Why the hell had he stopped her?
Sighing, he knew why—he wanted her to have a better connection with him. Otherwise, he feared she’d regret her actions or worse, blame him for trying to wiggle out of the annulment, because once they had sex, that possibility was off the table. And, he wouldn’t discuss divorce.
It had been a good sign she’d taken to the tape so well. It meant she accepted they’d married under normal pretenses. Her opening up to him was also a positive. What mattered was they were together with a chance to build new memories.
Another roll of thunder boomed closer than the last. Rylee would be upset, but they weren’t exploring today. No way in hell would he hike in that weather unless he knew for certain the girls were there. And, in that case, he’d have HIS in tow. But, it was a waste to have them scout out a house with only one person in residence. Devon just prayed that one person wasn’t Robert Carver.
Although he couldn’t completely let it go, something inside him told him the man at the ranch couldn’t be Carver, because the Carver he knew would’ve required help around him. The man had always had lackeys, even to get his coffee. In fact, the man used to brag about how he’d never cooked a meal.
A weak meow sounded beside his bed and he almost jumped out of his skin. Peering down, he saw Max looking up with big eyes. He picked up the kitten and put him on the bed. “Sneaky little bastard,” he muttered. It also meant Rylee was up because the little tyke slept with her.
Looking forward to a day with his wife, cooped up so she couldn’t run away, he swept the covers off and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. Max moved toward him and he reached out and snagged the kitten before he made Devon’s lap his bed. “Oh no. There will be no moving around in that region. You could scratch something and then I’d have to drop you back in the woods.” The last part was a total lie. His wife was already attached to the kitten. He was too, but the pet didn’t need to know that if his lie kept him off Devon’s balls.
Max answered with a yawn and stretch, his little butt pushed up in the air, and then he pranced to the pillow where he circled and curled himself into a ball, laid down and closed his eyes.
Devon shook his head, stood and reached his arms above his head, stretching. That was the moment his wife chose to push his door open.
“Oh.” A look of shock slapped her face. “I, um—” Her eyes raked his body from head to toe and stopped where he still sported his morning wood. “I just planned to sneak Max out. I’m sorry he got in.” Her face had reddened and the heat crept down her neck.
He dropped his arms and instead of covering himself in modesty, he strode to the dresser and opened a drawer to pull out new clothing, like walking around naked in front of her was an everyday occurrence. “Yeah, well, he’s comfy now. You may as well leave him.” Christ, it was difficult to act normal when he had a hard-on and she was right there. If things went well today, he wasn’t stopping tonight.
Realizing she still stood at the door, he turned toward her as he stepped into his underwear, smiling inwardly at the hungry look in her eyes. “Was there anything else?”
Her gulp was visible to his eye. “No.” Slowly, she shook her head. “I’ll start coffee and breakfa
st.” Without waiting for a response from him, she spun on her heels and raced from the room.
His hearty chuckle followed in her wake.
Dressed and carrying a purring machine, Devon stepped from his room, and into the kitchen area. He took the spatula from his wife and deposited Max into her arms. “I’ll finish.”
While not a gourmet chef, he held his own in the kitchen. Her eggs just needed more seasoning, but tonight, he’d make her a nice dinner. Candlelight and soft music—only the best for Rylee. He was pretty sure he’d picked up everything he’d need when they’d been in town.
Devon whistled a lively tune while serving up the eggs, bacon, and toast she’d cooked. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy, this contented and relaxed with a woman. It was a sensation he’d never experienced. A bit of ecstasy built inside him at the possibility of having what his brothers had.
“Breakfast is ready.”
Releasing the curtain on a front window, a loud sigh escaped Rylee. “I can’t believe it’s supposed to rain all day,” she said glumly.
Sitting at the table, he placed a napkin in his lap and picked up a fork. Maybe he should’ve thought to check the weather, but his mind had been fogged by his wife’s nearness. “Gives us more time to research. And”—he raised his brows—“get to know each other.” No longer could he make her think the worst of him. “Look, Rylee,” he said, “I won’t hold you to that part of the bargain. Truth is, I’ll help you look for the girls anyway. I just want you to give us a try.”
Hoping his words settled her, he tensed when she placed her fork down and stood without a word. She ambled around the table to him, leaned down and kissed his cheek. The warmth nearly burned him through. “Thank you,” she said.
Hands itching to reach out and grab her, he forced himself to be patient. He placed his fork on the table and turned to her. Shock immediately filled him.
