For a treacherous instant, Dev thought about a fragile sylph in bed fast asleep. Frowning, he shook his head vehemently. Maybe she wasn’t just a job anymore, but he was far from ready to discuss her with anyone. So he smiled. “Not a chance, buddy. I’m footloose and fancy-free. You’re safe for the foreseeable future.”
“Well, now that that’s settled, want to go a few rounds?”
“Not unless you just like getting pummeled.”
“I could take you.”
“You and whose army?”
They both grinned, back on comfortable footing.
“Just because I don’t want this pretty face messed up so I’m butt-ugly like you…” Connor’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Besides, there’s this girl I promised to take flying. Better get going.”
“Running away, eh?” Dev chucked him on the chin. “Go on, Romeo. Have fun in the wild blue yonder.”
Connor turned to go, then turned back. “Oh, yeah—I forgot. There’s a message for you at the apartment from a guy at some museum. Says it’s all set for tomorrow night.” He cocked his head. “I didn’t know you were an art buff.”
Dev smiled. It was the centerpiece of a plan that could blow up in his face, but he felt a kick of excitement. “What you don’t know about me could fill an encyclopedia.”
“You ever get tired of being the voice of authority?” Connor grinned.
“Never.” Dev grinned back. “You looked at those papers yet?”
Connor glanced away. “This weekend, I promise.”
“Unless a woman shows up.”
Connor laughed. “Hey, I’m the lover.” He pointed toward the punching bag. “You’re the fighter. To each his own.”
Dev threw a mock punch at him. “Go on. I hear romance calling.”
“And I’m just the man to answer.” Connor waved and ambled off.
Dev watched him go. His little brother would laugh if he could see the butterflies in Dev’s stomach over what he had planned.
The date of a lifetime. An evening she’d never forget.
In the dark hours of the night, he’d quit kidding himself that the date meant nothing. He wanted one night to bind her to him enough so that maybe—just maybe—she’d forgive him when he had to tell her that she wasn’t who she’d always believed.
Dev had gambled on a lot of things in his life, but nothing that had ever turned him inside out this way.
One night. One roll of the dice.
One chance to give them the night that had been stolen seventeen years ago.
He could only pray it would be enough.
Chapter Eight
Nothing fancy. That’s what Dev had said when she’d asked what she should wear on their date. Their real date.
Until he’d called her last night, she’d wondered if she’d dreamed it. Even waking up in her underwear yesterday morning and finding a note telling her the coffeepot was set to go hadn’t convinced her that she hadn’t imagined his tender treatment, his whispered words about wanting to be in bed beside her.
Lacey shivered slightly as she stared into her closet. Though his hands had been careful and almost impersonal as he’d tended her, his eyes had been anything but.
Hot with promises. Dark with need.
Seeing Dev like that again brought back memories of a long-ago night when her body had cried out for his, when desire had shot past her fears to sear her very soul.
He should have been her first, should have been the one to conclude the lessons he’d begun, lessons that had taught a sheltered girl the meaning of passion.
He walked away, Lacey. He took—
Ruthlessly, she shoved those thoughts away. Maybe he’d done that once, but he was a grown man now. Maybe he regretted what he’d done. Maybe he wanted to make things right.
Or maybe she was a fool of the worst kind.
Lacey’s fingers trailed across garment after garment as her mind tried to sort through a jumble of feelings.
Maybe she was a fool, but within her, a recklessness was emerging. The same seed that had sprouted in defiance of her parents’ disapproval was growing again.
She was a grown woman, not a scared sixteen-year-old anymore. And from the mists of memories ruthlessly quashed for years, arose one she had buried deep. The look on Dev’s face as he’d confronted her father in the gazebo, his eyes and his words pleading with her to run away with him, to believe he’d take care of her.
Dear God. The eyes of a woman saw a different scene. Dev was not the strong, self-assured man then—he’d been a boy, only two years older than her, and he’d faced down her father like a lion protecting his mate.
And she’d walked away. To protect him—or herself?
Lacey blinked and forced herself to concentrate on the clothing arrayed before her. What could she trust of memory and the past?
This was only one night. Maybe she was a fool, but maybe Dev had changed, just as she had. She’d told him that he didn’t know her, but the same could be said of her. Regardless of how it might turn out, she wanted to see what would happen.
She wanted one night with Devlin Marlowe, a night where they didn’t have to sneak around in the darkness, fearing discovery.
And though she touched her stomach in absent habit, it was as much from butterflies of delight as from the tension that was a tight, hot ball growing larger by the minute.
Resolutely, she shook her head and reached for a hanger.
Dev pulled up in her driveway and wondered for the thousandth time what the devil he thought he was doing.
He hadn’t been nervous on a date in years, but his palms were damp and his cast-iron stomach danced.
Could he let her matter this much? How would this all end? The night could be an unmitigated disaster, no matter how hard he’d worked to make it special.
One night, he asked the Fates. Just let us have this one night to make up for what was stolen from us, regardless of who was at fault.
Then I’ll tell her.
Dev drew in one deep breath and rose from the car, walked to the door and knocked. He’d faced stone killers with less trepidation.
The door swung open, and he could see the nerves jumping in her eyes. The sight calmed him.
But “Hi” was all he could say.
She stepped aside, pulling her princess composure into place. “Hello. Would you care to come in?”
So damn polite he wanted to growl. “If you’re ready, let’s go.”
She nodded stiffly. “All right. Let me get my purse.”
As she walked away, he let out a long, low breath. Good God. She was a knockout.
The dress swirled around her ankles, something filmy in a shade he guessed you’d call lavender. It nipped in close to her slender waist, rising to a halter top that showed only the tiniest hint of cleavage and cupped her breasts like a lover’s hands. Against her camellia-pale skin, an amethyst hung on a silver chain as dainty as her slender collarbone.
It was plenty for his imagination. And not nearly enough for his eyes.
Lacey, naked in the darkness, the moon silvering her small, perfect breasts.
Dev ground his teeth and wondered if the panties she wore tonight were as tiny as the ones he’d held in his hands back then. She wasn’t wearing a bra, he could tell that much.
He closed his eyes and silently counted to ten, inhaling sharply through his nostrils, willing his body to subside.
But despite his discomfort, he wanted to laugh and cheer her on. This was nothing flamboyant for some women—the dress was classy and expensive and could easily be considered demure—but for Lacey, it was little short of a revolution.
Her mother would hate it, and her father would tear his head off if he could read Dev’s thoughts now.
Knowing that cheered Dev immensely.
“Ready?” he asked as she walked toward him.
Now that she was close, he could smell her scent and his nostrils flared. He repressed a groan. Something expensive, no doubt, that smelled like
mystery and sin.
“You look wonderful,” he said.
Her tight face eased as she cut a glance toward him. “Thank you. So do you.”
His own attire was simple, a charcoal heather shirt with neck open and sleeves rolled up, topping a pair of darker charcoal slacks.
He smiled. “My kid brother said I need to snazz up my wardrobe if I want to attract babes.”
Lacey grinned, and some of the tension dissolved. “You have a brother? Does he live here?”
Dev nodded. “Yeah. He’s eleven years younger and sometimes I stay with him—when he doesn’t have one of his babes stashed in his apartment.”
“So he’s an expert?” she teased.
Dev opened her door and handed her into the car. “He thinks so.” He rounded the car and got into the driver’s seat.
“So what did he think you should wear?”
“Something sleeveless to show off my boxing muscles.” Dev shook his head and started the car. “He’s sure that’s what women want.”
Lacey turned to face him, as fascinated as she was horrified. “Boxing, did you say?”
He glanced her way, then started the car and pulled out of her drive. “Yeah. Wanna make something of it?”
Her first instinct was politeness. “Why, no, I…” Then her second instinct took over, Margaret DeMille notwithstanding. Lacey laughed in delight. “Boxing? Really?”
Dev shot her a grin. “Hey, you knew I was a mongrel. Still game to go out?”
Lacey felt the wind whipping her hair and thought about telling her parents or Philip—or Missy Delavant—that she was going out with a boxer. She laughed again.
She studied the man beside her, noting the broken nose, the ropy muscles of his arms. Remembering the strength of his grip and the concern in his eyes. “Yes, I’m game.” Politeness almost prevented her, but then she asked. “Is that what happened to your nose?”
Dev touched his nose lightly. “I wish. Brawling on a weekend pass, I’m afraid. Not too pretty, is it?”
“I like it,” she said. “Gives you character.”
He grinned. “I’m starting to get wrinkles, too. Think I should go see Blondie?”
Then he stopped suddenly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned him. I guess it went badly with your parents, huh?”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Never mind,” he offered.
Lacey remembered his tender care, how good she’d felt in his arms. The brushfire that had ignited.
“No, it’s all right. It—it wasn’t pretty.”
“You want to talk about it?”
It helped that those mesmerizing green eyes were looking at the road and only occasionally at her. She sighed. “They mean well, and I know they love me. They just…” She searched for a way to express the complicated relationship between herself and her parents.
“I’ve always felt as if there was something not quite right with me, like I can’t ever quite do everything properly, no matter how hard I try. I’ve been such a dutiful daughter, but all it’s done is to make them less tolerant of the ways I want to be different from them and their whole set.”
Dev glanced over at her. “What ways?”
For some reason, she felt as though she could confide in Dev a thought so secret that she’d never dared voice it, even to herself. “I want to adopt Christina.”
His head whipped around again. “The little girl you told me about?”
She nodded. “I know—it’s crazy, not to mention complicated. I’d have to resign as her advocate.”
“So what? If you want it, why can’t you do it? Will Daddy yank away your allowance?”
His words hurt so much that she fell silent.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as badly as it sounded. It’s just that, as far as I know, you don’t have a paying job.”
“I know you think I’m unbearably spoiled and pampered.” She looked out the window, wondering why she’d ever agreed to come.
He pulled his car into a parking place in the museum district. Turning slightly, he placed on hand on hers. He wouldn’t let go when she tried to yank it away. “It was a low blow, Lacey. I guess I’ve still got some splinters buried in my skin. But you didn’t deserve that.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “I’m the rich girl. I should be used to it.”
He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “But you’re not, are you?” It was a revelation to him. Her life looked like she had it wired.
She turned to face him, finally. “No, I’m not. I’m really tired of being judged on where I live and what my last name is.”
A faint hope stirred in Dev. Maybe she wouldn’t hate the news he bore.
Lacey lifted her chin as though making an admission of darkest sin. “I know I’m very fortunate that I have a trust fund from my grandfather. It’s ample for my needs and I feel that my time is better spent giving it to those who have less instead of trying to earn more.” She was braced as though waiting for him to sneer.
He clasped her hand tightly and lifted it to his lips. “I think that’s admirable.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Not frivolous?”
“I’ll bet your friend at the plastic surgeon’s office doesn’t do anything nearly as tough as working with the advocate’s office.”
Lacey smiled. “You’re right. She works as a docent at a museum.”
Dev pressed his lips against her knuckles. “If you want to adopt that little girl, I say go for it. She’d be damn lucky to have you.”
Her eyes went dark and sad, and she pulled her hand away, gripping it with the other. “She had an aunt show up two days ago. The aunt wants Christina to come live with her.”
“Is that bad?”
Lacey’s head lifted from her perusal of her hands. “I think she only wants the money the state would pay her. Christina doesn’t like her.”
“So how do you deal with that?”
“I need to find some way to prove she’s not a good guardian for Christina.” Her eyes were fierce. “I’m going to figure out how to accomplish that.”
“Want some help?”
Lacey’s head whipped around. “You would do that? Is it difficult? I’m still pretty new at this.”
Dev snapped his fingers. “Piece of cake. You just say the word.”
“I don’t care what it costs. I just keep remembering how scared Christina was when I met her and how shaky she is still. She’s so sweet, Dev, and she needs someone to love her—really love her for who she is inside.”
He thought Lacey’s wish for Christina might mirror a wish of her own. There was a very big heart inside that slender frame. Dev would have given a lot to have someone fight for him like that.
“I work cheap for my friends. And tonight I’m running a special. You only need to agree to have dinner with me.”
Lacey’s mouth quirked. “I already agreed to that.”
“Lucky you. You get off really cheap.”
Her silvery eyes glowed. “We’ll talk money later. I’m not letting you work for free.”
“You don’t have any choice. You ready?”
“For what?”
“Dinner.”
Lacey looked around her at the darkened street. “Where are we going?”
He gestured to the stone building in front of them. “Right here.”
Lacey couldn’t help gaping. “Here? Dev, it’s a museum. It’s closed.”
He smiled that cocky smile she’d seen so many times, years ago. “Not to me. In my business, who you know is everything.” He got out of the car and came around to help her alight. “This way, milady. The evening begins.”
She felt a bubble of laughter rise in her throat. “Why is it, Devlin Marlowe, that you’ve always dared more than anyone else I’ve ever met?”
He tucked her hand under his elbow and looked down at her, his eyes hot and mysterious, his voice husky. “When the prize is worth it, a man will dare a lot.”
Am I worth it, Dev
? Her heart fluttered, but she didn’t ask as Dev drew her forward.
The door opened as if by magic. “Good evening, Mr. Marlowe. Everything’s in place.” The security guard’s tone was respectful. He tipped his hat to Lacey. “Evening, miss.”
Lacey could barely get out a greeting, her mind whirling with wonder. “What have you done, Dev?”
He merely grinned. “You’ll see.”
He led her past paintings and sculptures, and she realized that he was leading her toward the courtyard. Anticipation bubbled like champagne in her blood.
The glow didn’t register at first, but when it did, Lacey gasped in shock and went stock-still.
And then sighed.
The courtyard was alive with candlelight. There must have been hundreds of them placed strategically to create one island of light in the greenest corner of this space. Some were fat candles set in torches, some tapers in hurricane glass. Dozens more floated in the still fountain nearby.
Several tall urns were filled with long-stemmed roses allowed to open enough to share their fragrance, perfuming the night around them.
“Dev…” She pressed her hand to her breast, but she couldn’t find the words.
His hand slid around her waist. “Do you like it?”
She heard a surprising edge of nerves in his voice and turned to face him. “I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my life.”
“I have.” He gazed at her, his eyes glowing as much from within as from the candlelight around them. He lifted his free hand to her chin and leaned toward her. “I’m looking at her now.”
And then he brushed one soft kiss over her lips, tracing the moisture left behind with the pad of his thumb.
Lacey’s heart was racing. “Oh, Dev…” She leaned toward him, wanting more.
But he pulled away, his look regretful. He cleared his throat. “We might have an audience, I’m afraid. My connections don’t extend far enough for them to abandon the place to us.” He pressed one finger against her lips. “But hold that thought. I’m sure as hell going to.”
The slight edge of disgruntlement in his tone made her want to giggle. She needed something, anything, to cool her own rapidly-heating blood.
Texas Heroes: Volume 1 Page 44
