Texas Heroes: Volume 1

by Jean Brashear

  “Daddy…” she protested.

  Guests nearby chuckled.

  “As soon as she’ll say yes, Charles,” Philip responded. “Your daughter has a mind of her own, it seems.” His eyes broadcast anger she hoped no one else saw.

  She cast a glance over his shoulder. “Mother’s waiting for me to help her, Daddy. I’d better go.”

  “All right, Princess.” Her father hugged her and kissed her cheek. She wanted to lean against his strength and let him tell her what to do.

  But he’d urge her to marry Philip, and she’d put off dealing with that too long.

  “I’ll catch up with you soon, darling.” Philip’s tone said that the subject was far from ended.

  Philip was much like her mother. He would never violate their contract of good breeding by making a scene. He, like Margaret, would simply expect Lacey to see the light and behave accordingly. Lacey would be dutiful. Her mother would be proud. Philip was counting on that.

  It was so much more than a little eight-year-old girl had tonight.

  Lacey put on her hostess face and began to mingle.

  It must have been three hours later before she could seize a moment to sit down. Her face was ready to crack from the effort of constant smiling, and her feet hurt as though she’d walked on sharp stones. But Lacey had been raised in a tradition that denied physical discomfort. Beauty knows no pain, her mother always said.

  It was another lie, just like many Lacey was beginning to despise.

  “There you are,” Philip said, drawing her out of one set of the French doors that opened onto the expansive front porch.

  Lacey stifled a groan. Here it came. “Hello, Philip. Having fun?”

  He cocked one sandy eyebrow, his composure, as ever, unruffled. Nothing about Philip ever got ruffled. His hair was razor cut and wouldn’t dare misbehave. He never got a speck of anything on his clothes. And his blue eyes were cold as ice.

  She’d never realized that until she’d seen green fire again.

  “Lacey, it’s time we settled this. There’s no reason to delay any longer. It’s time for us to marry. You’ll be too old soon to have the family we want.”

  She wouldn’t get angry. A lady didn’t lose her temper. “Too old?” She kept her face carefully composed. “I don’t think thirty-five is exactly ancient, Philip.”

  “Of course not,” he soothed. “You’re still very beautiful.” His eyes narrowed. “Not quite ready for a little eye job, even. Soon, though.”

  Wrinkles show you’ve lived. Dev’s viewpoint strengthened her resolve.

  She kept her expression calm. “Perhaps I don’t want an eye job. Perhaps I want my face to reflect my life.”

  His gaze sharpened at the edge in her tone. “Of course, that’s your option. I won’t demand that you—”

  That did it. “You demand from me all the time, Philip. You don’t value what I do for the children, you’ve got our life all planned out, and you never listen to one word I say.”

  He drew himself up in affront. “Calm yourself, Lacey. This is an important crowd.”

  “Important to whom?” Unaccustomed anger thrilled through her blood. “These people know nothing about real life—nothing. This is an artificial world, Philip, and you don’t even know that, do you?” Fury gave her a second wind. “There are children going hungry tonight, but they’re only stories on the news to you, aren’t they?”

  “Lacey, get hold of yourself.” He grasped her elbow. “I told you that silly volunteer work wasn’t good for you—”

  “Silly! You, who keep rich, bored women looking like they’re twenty-five, have the nerve to call what I’m doing silly?”

  “Shh, Lacey…” He cast a glance at the windows, then drew her behind a pillar. “Is it that Marlowe person who’s got you so upset? He’s not our type, Lacey. Your father told me about him. He’s a born troublemaker, and he took money to abandon you once before—”

  Lacey jerked away from him, rage and shame swirling into a witch’s brew inside her. How dare her father tell that humiliating story? How dare Philip presume to judge her? To write off what she did as useless and foolish?

  She had to get out of here, but Philip would never let her leave alone, not as long as he thought he had a claim on her.

  And she could not bear to spend one more second in his company. Time had run out.

  “We’re not getting married, Philip.”

  “What?” He took a step closer. “Lacey, you’re distraught. You know how high-strung you are. I’ll take you home and you’ll get a good night’s sleep. Everything will look fine tomorrow.”

  But certainty flooded her veins. She refused to give a raven-haired bad boy the credit, but Dev’s arrival had, at least, made her open her eyes and see that she’d been drifting.

  She might not know what she was doing with her life, but she knew what she would not do. But emotion wouldn’t sway Philip. Only reason would. “Philip…” She forced calm, placing one hand on his arm. “You don’t love me, and I don’t love you. And marriage isn’t a business arrangement.” At least, not for me. “We wouldn’t make each other happy, Philip. We’d wind up like your parents.”

  She had him there. In one of his few moments of unbending, he’d told her how much he’d hated growing up with parents who made every excuse to stay apart, until one day they’d finally split up.

  “I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” he murmured. “You should think about it a little longer.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t change my mind. I’ve been avoiding this for too long, but I knew. I told you, too, Philip. Be honest. I never led you to believe I wanted to marry.”

  “I thought I could change your mind.”

  “I’d like to part friends, if we could. And I’ll explain to my parents.”

  “They won’t be happy.” His mouth was tight.

  “No, they won’t be happy. You’re exactly what they want. It’s me who doesn’t fit.” She’d felt it all her life, but she’d never understood why. She’d tried very hard to bury that sense of displacement, but when she allowed herself to look deep, she saw the girl who did everything perfectly…but didn’t feel like it was ever enough.

  Philip’s jaw worked as he stared off into the distance. Finally, he exhaled in a long gust, shaking his head. “You’re never going to find whatever that romantic fantasy is, Lacey.” He turned to face her. “Don’t you know that by now? Haven’t you made enough mistakes?”

  She stiffened. “Apparently not.” She forced calm where temper wanted to reign. “I’ll tell my parents. You don’t have to deal with it.”

  “Fine,” he said curtly, facing the windows. He paused after two steps, speaking over his shoulder. “Is it Marlowe, Lacey? Is he what’s gotten you stirred up?”

  She recoiled. “Of course not. You think I’d be that foolish after what he did?”

  Philip sighed. “Apparently, my judgment isn’t to be trusted.” He shook his head. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret. I would still take you back as long as you don’t embarrass me.” He turned to face her. “Why don’t you come inside now? It’s getting chilly out here.”

  Steam could easily pour out her ears after that last little salvo. But lady to the core, Lacey only shook her head. “I’m not your concern anymore, Philip. I’ll be inside after a moment.”

  He shrugged and left.

  Lacey looked out onto the estate where she’d spent her life trying to become what people wanted. Her head felt light from a mixture of grief that she still couldn’t quite hit the mark…and relief. Elation. For one second, Lacey imagined what Dev would say if he were here.

  She could still remember swallowing almost-hysterical giggles the night he’d helped her climb out of her second-floor window and down the trellis. The incredible euphoria of forbidden thrills as they raced across the lawn, darting from tree to tree to avoid detection. Dev had had to muffle her giggles with his hand because she couldn’t hold them back.

  Finally, h
e’d resorted to kisses. Hot, wet, deep, day-long kisses that had turned the champagne-bubbly giggles into moans and sighs.

  Suddenly, Lacey knew what she wanted to do. She didn’t want to go back inside. She wanted to escape, to run away. To be free for just a little while.

  One of the valets would take her home. She stepped off the porch and walked toward the parking area her father had built near the street. With every step, she felt giddy. Younger. Breathless in a scary, lighter-than-air way.

  Devlin Marlowe was a born troublemaker and hardly a good example to follow, but she thought he’d be proud of what she’d done. Too bad he’d never know. If he did call as he’d promised, she wouldn’t see him. She had too much thinking to do, and in his own way, Dev was as overbearing as Philip.

  But she was a free woman, at least for tonight. She would have to tell her parents soon, but for now, she felt like running.

  And so she did, heels and all.

  Circling through the neighborhood one last time, Dev was still kicking himself for not leaving her alone. She was a big girl. He shouldn’t interfere.

  But he just wanted to know that she was all right.

  Suddenly, he saw a form hurtle through the darkness, stopping to engage in intent conversation with the valet.

  It couldn’t be. But it was. Lacey was gesturing, and the valet was lifting his shoulders. Her own frame sank in disappointment.

  Dev started his car and rolled slowly toward her, letting down the passenger window.

  “Hey, lady, need a ride?”

  The valet started to protest, but Lacey turned and spotted him.

  Her smile blossomed. “He’s a friend,” she explained to the valet who was still busy urging her to return to the house. “Thank you so much for your help.” She turned to Dev. “Do you have any money?”

  Dev retrieved a twenty and handed it to her.

  Lacey gave it to the flustered valet. “Please simply tell Dr. Forrester that I’ve gone home with a headache. And tell my parents I’ll talk to them later. Tell them I took a cab, all right?”

  The man shrugged, then walked away, muttering.

  Lacey opened Dev’s door. “I’m not going to ask what you’re doing here. Just drive, okay?”

  Dev studied the odd, febrile excitement on her face. “Well, I am going to ask. What are you doing, Lacey?”

  She placed a hand on her stomach, then drew a deep, ragged breath. She turned to him, her voice a little shaky but her smile growing wider by the moment. “I think I’m making a jailbreak.”

  Dev was so surprised, he laughed out loud. “You sure you want to do this?”

  She breathed deeply again, shaking her head. “I don’t want to think.” But then she grinned, and it was like a full moon breaking through the clouds. “But I didn’t have to climb down a trellis this time. Now will you please get me out of here—fast?”

  “You got it, lady.” Dev hit the pedal hard, and his tires screeched.

  Lacey clapped her hands together, three quick claps in succession. He heard a small squeal erupt from her throat, then dissolve into nervous laughter. “I just got formally un-engaged—not that I ever agreed in the first place. My mother will be furious.”

  But she looked delighted.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “I should go home…” A faint frown appeared.

  He waited for her upbringing to assert control.

  “Is that what you want?” It would be the smart thing—but not, he realized, what he wanted. “Or is it what you think you should do?”

  Lacey glanced at him. Across her features, indecision chased worry…hard on the heels of temptation.

  “I probably should…” Then she smiled. “But I don’t want to.”

  He shouldn’t feel this kick in his pulse. He’d left the rebel behind years ago, he’d thought.

  Maybe he’d thought wrong.

  “A jailbreak calls for a celebration, I think,” Dev said. “And I know just the place to toast a formal un-engagement that never existed in the first place, as long as you like your coffee strong and hot.”

  Her head whipped around. “You do?”

  Dev nodded. “You’re in good hands. Settle back and enjoy the ride.”

  “Dev?”

  Here it came. Second thoughts.

  “Can we put the top down?”

  Surprise made him grin. “Sure, but your hair won’t be the same.” He pulled over in the parking lot of a dry cleaners.

  “But that’s like wrinkles, right? Just makes things interesting?” She turned suddenly to study him. “Philip thinks I’m almost ready for an eye job.”

  Dev cursed vividly under his breath as he fastened down the top. “Philip is an ass. What did you ever see in him, anyway?”

  “It wasn’t me. It was my parents.”

  Dev came back and slid into the driver’s seat. He thought about chiding her, but she’d never been any different. Too eager to please a father who didn’t deserve her love.

  But he didn’t need to get started thinking about Charles DeMille. Or the past. And anyway, he had to give her credit for making a jailbreak tonight. He started up the car again.

  She ran slender fingers through her hair and stretched her arms above her head, turning her head side to side as the wind whipped her and plastered her dress to her curves.

  Dev bit back a groan. She looked like a woman in the throes of passion.

  This is a bad idea, Dev. Ba-a-ad idea. Take her home.

  “So where are we going, Devlin Marlowe?”

  “I’ll take you to a place where your friends won’t see you. Somewhere you’d never dream of setting foot inside.”

  “I don’t care if my friends see me,” she protested.

  Don’t lie to me—or yourself, Lacey. You care.

  But he didn’t say that. “You’re gonna weep over Shorty’s donuts.”

  Lacey smiled back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Prove it.”

  Dev chuckled. “You asked for it, darlin’. Now hang on.” Averting his eyes, he shot the car forward, concentrating on the road ahead of them and trying his damnedest not to think about the woman at his side.

  Chapter Six

  Dev pulled to a stop in front of the darkened building in a decaying part of Houston. Lacey’s quick glance made him smile as he turned to her. “It’s okay, I promise. It’s just rundown, not dangerous.”

  Her chin tilted upward. “I wasn’t—”

  Dev grinned. “Yes, you were. I’d bet a hundred bucks you’ve never been near this part of town before.”

  In the light from the streetlamp, he could see her shoulders stiffen. “Of course I—” Her voice trailed off. Lacey sighed. “You’re right, I haven’t.”

  “Rethinking your jailbreak? I can take you back right now. They might not even realize you’re gone.”

  There was enough heat in the look she shot him to melt lead. Dev wanted to applaud, but he was still waiting for her to realize that she didn’t belong here. Not with him. Not anywhere near him.

  “I’m not going back,” she countered. “Now do I get my donuts or not?” She peered out of the windshield. “What is this place anyway?”

  “Shorty’s place is in back. It’s a deep, dark secret. I probably should have blindfolded you first.” He grinned. “I’d give you the password and secret handshake, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  Lacey burst out laughing. Slowly, she drew an X over her heart. “I swear I won’t tell. Besides,” she muttered, “I’m not sure I could find this place again if my life depended upon it.”

  Her laughter touched places in him that felt…undiscovered. Untouched. Almost young again.

  What the devil was he doing, showing her one of his favorite haunts? She would come to her senses anytime now, realize just how different they were, and demand to be taken back. And Shorty’s would never be the same refuge.

  But they were here. If she did—when she did—he’d deal with it. But that was later. This was now. “Whe
n you taste Shorty’s donuts, you’ll be forever marked. You’ll be able to find your way back like a homing pigeon. These donuts change you at the cellular level.”

  “Hip level, you mean.”

  It took a minute for her remark to register. He laughed. “You’re too skinny, anyway. A few extra pounds won’t hurt you.”

  For a second, what might have been hurt raced over her features. “If I’m too thin for you, that’s not really my problem, Devlin.”

  Ah, princess to peasant. Back on familiar ground.

  “You’re beautiful and you know it. I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with a woman’s hips being curvy. You’re not supposed to look like a boy. Your body was built to make babies.”

  She went silent for too long.

  Dev swore silently. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean—” Hell, he should just quit talking. He never had the right words with her.

  Then she touched his hand lightly. “It’s okay. I was just…thinking. You’re right, you know. The circles I move in, well…I think we’ve gotten a long way from the basics.” She glanced down. “I forget that sometimes—that fitting into this season’s size four isn’t what nature designed my body to do.”

  When she looked up, there was something fragile in her face. Dev wanted way too much to take her in his arms right then. “Do you want children, Lacey?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said softly. Her look turned inward.

  “Then why haven’t you married by now? Had a dozen kids? I can’t imagine you haven’t been asked—” He tried for a grin. “Even before Dr. Blondie.”

  She looked down at the hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I was married, once.” Then she frowned, grasped the door handle and stepped outside.

  Dev followed her lead, rounding the car and coming to stand before her. He knew about the marriage, of course, but only that it had been annulled, not why. He kept his tone gentle. “Can I ask what happened?”

  She shot him a sideways glance he couldn’t decipher. “I made a mistake.” A look of immense sadness swept over her face.