A slow flush rose out of the neckline of her shirt, creeping its way up her neck until her cheeks turned red. Her thumb moved slightly against his skin, a faint caress he doubted she even realized, but it fanned the flames licking his skin. He returned the movement, his thumb teasing lightly over the skin of her palm, and her breath caught.
The silence stretched out, neither of them moving except for the gentle stroke of their fingers. It was ridiculous, this connection and the sensations it caused, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the contact. Megan seemed to have a similar problem as her pupils dilated and her teeth worried her bottom lip.
It would be easy, so easy to… One tug, and she’d be in his lap….
“D-Dev…I…um…I…” she whispered, and he felt her tremble ever so slightly. Megan closed her eyes as her tongue moistened her lips. She shifted her body forward as he reached for her.
The coffee table collapsed from the increased weight, sending books and papers crashing to the ground. With the table supporting her feet gone, Megan overbalanced and landed on the floor with a thud and a colorful curse.
Her hand was still in his, and he pulled, helping her right herself. “Are you okay?”
Big blue eyes met his and he watched as several emotions battled for dominance. The desire was still there, but banked, while amusement and embarrassment and annoyance seemed to be gaining ground.
She pulled her hand away and used it to push back the hair that had escaped its containment when she fell. “I swear, Dev, being around you is a disaster looking for a place to happen.”
CHAPTER SIX
MEGAN HAD MEANT THE WORDS to be light considering the embarrassing position she was in—and the even more embarrassing position she’d just escaped—but somehow they seemed to come out all wrong.
She’d known the moment she’d seen him on her step that nothing good could—or would—come from letting him in. She’d spent the day convincing herself of that and focusing on the future instead of the past. But she could no more close the door in his face than sprout wings and fly.
Dev just had some kind of unholy control over her. She thought she’d broken it when they split up, but if anything, the past couple of days had proven that notion false. Hell, the past five minutes had proven it to be a bald-faced lie.
And now Dev was in her tiny living room, filling the space and leaving her light-headed and shaky. Even worse, the heat in his stare didn’t abate as she untangled herself from the mess on the floor and the remains of her coffee table.
She picked up a table leg and examined it, eager for something to distract Devin while she got her own hormones under control. “The apartment came furnished. I wonder how much they’re going to charge me to replace this.”
“I’ll pay for it.” The growl in his voice sent shivers over her skin and kicked her pulse into high gear. “Megan—”
“That’s okay.” She cut him off before that growl could go somewhere else, and hated herself for taking the cowardly way out. What happened to standing up to him? “I’m sure any local garage sale will have a replacement for a couple of dollars.” She laughed weakly, but Devin didn’t join her. He was still staring at her, his eyes raking over her body and leaving heated skin in their wake. Dev might have shown up at her door with a business proposition, but she knew that look well enough to know he had something entirely different on his mind now.
So did her body. It was completely on board with the idea, conveniently forgetting that they weren’t a couple anymore. She could feel the early trembles of arousal in her thighs, the sensation traveling up to make her core muscles clench in anticipation.
Even worse, she knew Devin knew it, too. Electricity snapped through the air between them, the tension growing thick and heavy. She had to do something to break the spell or else…
“Meggie…”
That husky tone nearly did her in, pouring gasoline on the fire he’d started with just a look. No, she told her libido. This is not going to happen. She had enough problems without compounding them by getting naked with Devin.
She levered herself to her feet, only to find her knees weren’t steady enough to support her. As she wobbled, seeking her balance, Devin’s hand closed around her wrist, pulling her gently yet purposefully toward him.
Be strong. What had happened to the anger, the outrage, the indignation that had kept a nice safe wall between them? It had crumbled under one passionate look. So much for being over him.
It took every bit of strength she had to override her hormones, pull her wrist out of Devin’s grasp and dig her heels into the floor. “Dev,” she started, but her voice sounded thick. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Devin, I, um…I appreciate your offer.”
His eyebrows went up and she hurried to clarify. “The offer to help. Business, I mean. You’ve done all you can and you were right last night when you said it would just take time. I think I’ll go back to that plan and wait this out.”
With the moment of connection broken, the heat started to fade from Devin’s eyes. Then, with a quick shake of his head, it was gone entirely. Envious, Megan wished she could do the same, but at the same time she felt a little hurt he could turn it off so quickly. She, on the other hand, still wasn’t steady on her feet and parts of her were throbbing along with her rapid heartbeat.
He cleared his throat. “That’s probably a wise choice.”
Damn it. “Yeah.” She squatted and began sliding the papers and books into slightly more orderly piles. It gave her something to do with her hands, something to look at other than him, while she shored up her already faltering resolve. “So…I’m going to get back to work. I’ve got a ton of research to go through….”
“So I’ll let you get back to it.” He stood, looming over her position on her knees on the floor.
She quickly scrambled to her feet. “Thanks.”
“If you change your mind…”
I’m about to, if you don’t leave. “I won’t,” she answered quickly, clutching a psychiatric manual to her chest like a shield.
His lips twitched slightly. “I meant about exploring some of those other media options.”
Kill me now. Her ears burned with embarrassment. “I’ll keep it in mind and let you know. Okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Megan.”
“Bye, Dev.” She closed the door behind him and threw all the locks. Only then did she release the breath she was holding.
She made her way to the bedroom on unsteady legs and fell face-first across the bed. Disgust at herself churned the acid in her stomach. Embarrassment and humiliation had her skin crawling. But under that, she burned.
For Devin.
She was not some teenager without control over her hormones. She was an adult, damn it.
An adult who knew exactly what Dev could do to her.
Exactly, she told herself as she pulled a pillow over her head. Physically, yes, Dev could do amazing things. Things that made her shiver at the thought. Her body was screaming at her to call him back and take him up on the unspoken yet blatantly obvious offer. She could practically feel his hands sliding over her skin, and gooseflesh rose in anticipation. Devin was generous, thorough, often insatiable…. Ah, yes, physically, there was no downside.
But she also knew what Dev could do to her emotionally. And her reaction to him proved beyond a doubt that her emotional state wasn’t as stable as she’d thought. The tug on her heart couldn’t be ignored and it scared the hell out of her. The magnetic pull she’d felt had been more than physical, more than just a chemical reaction or memories of how good it could—would—be. That was something else entirely.
Her whole life was in too much upheaval to add that to the mix.
Deep breaths and rational pep talks weren’t helping. She focused on the only thing that might—the anger and hurt that had driven them apart last time. When she had no luck with that, she flipped to her back and concentrated on the present—her problems that wouldn’t be helped by giving in to the che
mistry between them.
That was no use either. With a sigh of disgust, she pushed herself off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
She’d try that old standby, the cold shower.
Learn from your mistakes. Devin couldn’t count the number of times he’d lectured his listeners on that very topic. For that reason alone, he had no excuse for what had almost happened. If Megan hadn’t chickened out and all but thrown him out of her apartment, it wouldn’t have been almost.
And while he could beat himself up over the fact he should know better, he also knew he wouldn’t have regretted it for a second. Whatever lie he’d told himself on his way to Megan’s, the real reason he’d gone to her had become crystal clear the moment she touched him.
Getting involved with Megan—in any way, for any reason—was just plain stupid, but that knowledge wasn’t damping his raging erection or blurring the erotic images in his mind. Between the two, he was getting nothing done tonight.
Something had to give, or he was going to lose his mind.
Sure, he felt sorry for her, for the situation she was in. Her notoriety was partly his fault; even if he hadn’t directly caused it, he’d compounded it, and any decent human being would want to help.
But this other need… That had nothing to do with being a decent human being. In fact, a decent human being wouldn’t compound a bad situation by acting on what he was feeling at the moment.
It wasn’t going to stop him, though. He’d just have to accept he wasn’t a decent human being. He’d been called worse. By Megan, in fact.
But Megan’s reaction proved this wasn’t one-sided. She wanted him—that much had been very clear—but she was fighting it. Probably for all the same reasons he’d examined and rejected already.
Devin scrolled through the messages in his in-box again. There were many things he should be working on, but none really captured his interest.
He could be at Megan’s exploring his new naughty-librarian fantasy. Or multiple other fantasies. Other people’s soon-to-be ex-wives weren’t nearly as interesting as his, so he clicked the email window closed and gave up the pretense.
This was sick. This was twisted. It was nuts to even consider.
But it was going to happen. That much he was sure of. And he was pretty damn sure Megan felt the same way.
Maybe if they could both get it out of their systems, then they could go back to their separate lives.
Now to get Megan to see it that way.
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” The lie got easier each time Megan told it. Another three hundred times and maybe she’d begin to believe it, as well.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you did great on Devin’s show. I’d sign on as a client of yours any day.” Her mom was in cheerleader mode—had been since the first whiff of trouble.
“Thanks, Mom. But please tell me you and Daddy aren’t having problems.”
“Nothing a move to Florida won’t solve.”
“Together, I hope.”
“Of course, honey. Don’t worry about us. We’ve been married so long divorce isn’t an option. I might kill him, but I won’t divorce him.”
“Good. But try not to kill him, either. Call me first and I’ll talk you down.”
“Speaking of killing people…” Her mom’s voice took on a too-casual tone and Megan braced herself. “How are you getting along with Devin?”
Argh. “What do you mean?”
Mom sighed. “You’ve obviously had to spend some time with him—during the show, if nothing else. How’d that go?”
“Fine,” she managed to get out in a normal tone. Thank goodness her mother couldn’t see her face. She’d be busted for that lie for sure. “We’ve both grown and changed and we’re different people now, and this was a professional setting and situation, so it—” Megan broke off midramble as her mother laughed. “Okay,” she admitted, “so I’ve had better moments. You just said it all sounded fine on the radio, and that’s what matters.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” I need to change the subject. “So, Mom—”
“Did you listen to his show this morning?”
She had, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “Are you telling me you did?”
“Of course. I wanted to see which way the wind was blowing. Make sure he didn’t undo any of the progress you’d made. He didn’t, by the way.”
“I didn’t think he would.” But she’d listened to be sure. “Devin’s being great about this. He understands my predicament.”
“So did you two talk about anything…?”
Not subtle, Mom. Not subtle at all. “Oh, Mom, there’s someone at the door. Can I call you later?”
“Of course, honey. Take care.”
Megan hung up and spent a brief moment feeling bad about lying to her mother. After all the Devin-related drama of the past, though, of course Mom was twitchy about her being anywhere near him again.
And boy, did Mom have good reason to be. Megan was very twitchy about it, too, but after a long, sleepless night spent thinking, she had it under control now. The current emotional upheaval made her vulnerable. That vulnerability had her looking for a safe anchor. Years ago that anchor had been Devin, and with him here now, she was misplacing all that angst and emotion and need. That was the explanation for yesterday’s close-call chemical reaction.
Now that she’d identified it, she could avoid it. She felt much better today with her newfound understanding of the situation. Sadly, that understanding hadn’t completely squelched the ache inside her, but it had damped it down a bit. Once she managed to rein in her subconscious’s need to explore every old fantasy she’d ever harbored, she’d be in good shape. It would just take a little time. And effort.
Maybe in a couple of days—or months—she’d be able to articulate that to her mother. Until then, avoiding discussing the issue seemed wise.
She left the phone on the couch, stepped over her laptop and headed for the kitchen for a refill. As she opened the fridge, she heard a knock at the door.
Spooky. Either she’d gained ESP recently or something was telling her not to lie to her mother about things unless she wanted them to come true.
At the door, she looked through the peephole and nearly fell back in shock.
Devin. Here. Again.
Why?
She weighed her options. Honestly, she had only two—open the door or pretend not to be home. After yesterday… She took a careful step backward.
“Megan, I know you’re home.” Dev’s voice carried easily through the flimsy door. “I can hear you moving around.”
Damn it.
“C’mon. Open up.”
She took a deep breath to steady herself. Blowing it out slowly, she opened the door.
Dev grinned at her. “Hi.”
“Hi, Dev, what’s…” She trailed off as she saw what he was holding. “What’s that?”
“What does it look like? It’s a coffee table.”
Like that’s normal? “Well, yes, I see that. But…but… why do you have a coffee table?”
“To replace the one you broke yesterday.”
Her head was spinning. “That’s not neces—”
“This is where you say, ‘Thanks, Dev,’ and invite me in. It’s heavier than it looks.”
She stood there gaping as Devin turned sideways to pass her and stepped inside. He carried the table to the center of the room and set it down carefully. “There. It doesn’t match the sofa, but then nothing in here does.”
I’ve snapped. The stress has gotten to me and this is a hallucination. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, Devin was still standing in her living room. With a coffee table. Okay. Reality is just weird. Closing the door, she tried again to make sense of the situation. “It’s lovely, Devin, and that’s very kind of you, but…”
“You’re welcome.” Devin looked at the mess covering her floor. “You certainly need it. How are the articles going?”
; Confusion reigned supreme. “Devin…um…I mean, what…” She scrubbed a hand across her face. “What is going on?”
Devin frowned at her, obviously assessing her sanity and getting a big question mark. “This—” he indicated the table “—is a gift. For you. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you showed up on my front step with a coffee table for some unknown reason. I think I’m allowed to be a little thrown by this.”
That got her a shrug in response. “I don’t see why.”
She held on to her last shred of sanity. “Devin…”
“Okay, so I’m feeling a little bad about the stress you’re under, so I thought I’d try to do something nice for you.”
“So you bought me a table?”
Devin’s smile bordered on sheepish, but she wasn’t buying it for a second. “It seemed like a better idea than flowers or something. I knew you needed a table.”
A laugh bubbled up without warning. It felt good after all the tension of the past few days. “You’re certainly full of surprises, Dev.”
He looked pleased with himself. “I try. Now, are you going to invite me to sit and stay awhile?”
She shouldn’t. She knew that much for sure. But he’d brought her furniture; she couldn’t just send him off like a delivery guy with a smile and a wave. With all her newfound answers gleaned from her self-therapy last night, surely she could handle a polite conversation with the man. After all, he was trying to be nice. “Would you like to sit? Can I get you something to drink?” When he shook his head, she went to the couch and sat, trying to shake off the déjà vu with simple, harmless small talk. It proved harder than expected, though, as she fumbled for a topic. “I listened to your show today. It’s a bit different than the nighttime version.”
He seemed shocked at her revelation, but then he shrugged. “Different target demographic. There’s some overlap, of course.” With a level stare, he added, “And you still don’t approve.”
“I don’t have to approve. Or agree with what you’re saying. I may think you’re wrong, but it’s your show. Your listeners.” She shrugged.
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