Loud coughing over the microphone jarred him back to the present. “Sir, do you have a number? Did you register to bid today?”
He couldn’t take his gaze off of Jewel. “No.”
“Then I’m sorry, but you can’t participate—”
“The hell I can’t!” That earned Devon more flabbergasted noises and several protests to boot.
A hand descended on his shoulder, squeezing hard with a warning. “Let me handle this, Devon.”
Twisting back briefly to look at his lawyer, Devon said under his breath, “I thought you said as my attorney you only took care of my legal concerns.”
“Ah…I’ll make an exception this one time.”
“Forget it, Gil. I’ll do it my way.”
“You always did, so why should I expect different now?” He heard the smile in Gil’s voice, and then felt the pressure of the lawyer’s hand slip away.
To the head honcho, Devon directed his next words. “I’m bidding on behalf of the lady here.” He nodded to Jewel and she paled considerably. “I’m prepared to go as high as necessary in order to buy the set for her. Any more questions?”
The flustered man cleared his throat. “No, none at all. We’ve got five hundred going once, going twice, sold,” he rushed out, bringing the gavel down hard and ending any further discussion from the clearly stunned audience.
Heat burned in Jewel’s cheeks as she rose, leaving the numbered paddle in her seat. Making mumbled pardons to the people in her aisle, she quickly stepped over their feet, nearly tripping twice in her haste. Finally, she gained her freedom and walked with determined strides to her car parked among a group of others on the lawn. Don’t let anyone suspect how upset you are.
“Jewel, wait up.” Devon’s rich voice strummed along her nerve endings.
Halting at her rundown blue car, she turned slowly as she cursed herself for coming here today, for wanting to preserve a piece of her mother and her past. He stopped a foot away, jamming his hands in his pockets, something she recalled him doing numerous times while growing up. Maybe the Devon she once knew hadn’t completely vanished after all.
She couldn’t help but take in the man he had become. Tanned, powerfully built, sophisticated, ruthless. She read the last hard quality in his cold, penetrating gaze. A sinking sensation rippled through her. He’s come back to play out his revenge.
Gulping hard, she shook off the acute awareness that buzzed between them. Jewel broke the charged silence by calling up her anger. “If you intended to humiliate me, you did a good job.”
He reared back as if punched. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, too. Oh no, don’t even think of thanking me for buying the set for you.”
A pang of remorse tugged in her middle. He’d bought that precious link to her mother for her. But the independent streak she’d worked hard at claiming these last years resurfaced now. “I don’t accept charity, from you or anyone else, Devon Marshall.”
He patted the battered hood of her car, producing a metal ping. “Obviously not.”
His sarcasm cut her to the quick. What did he know about her life? Who had told him? Gil? She could feel more color creep into her face. Sticking out her chin, she raised her head high. A hollow ache throbbed behind her ribs as she encountered his mesmerizing green eyes. Conflicting emotions chased across them, and then disappeared just as quickly. What had he been thinking just then?
Grabbing ahold of herself, Jewel jerked her gaze away, trying to regulate her breathing pattern once again. “Why are you here?”
“For the auction, of course.”
“To gloat, you mean.”
He shifted, resting his hip on the fender of her car. “Maybe for him. But, never for you. Jesus, Jewel, what happened? He used to give you everything you ever wanted. Hell, I remember when five hundred dollars was chump change to the Wainwrights.”
“And a fortune to the Marshalls. So why should you care?” Her thoughts popped out of her mouth and she had no time to censor them.
Refusing to look directly at him and succumb to the magnetic power he still held over her, Jewel sensed his interest as the heat of his long, lazy perusal stroked her in places no man had touched in years. She bit back on the moan that threatened to escape her throat. If only she could forget Devon’s caresses and how he’d brought her to life. Briefly, she glanced up at him.
Shooting her a wry grin, he said, “Curiosity maybe, even a warped sense of responsibility for what I might have been able to do for you if I’d known, whatever you want to call it, I’d just like to know.”
“Responsibility?” An odd fluttering shot through her middle. Did he know? No, he couldn’t or that would have been the first thing he asked about. She’d been granted a temporary reprieve.
Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Yeah, maybe if I’d have convinced you to go away with me…”
A sudden gust of wind lifted his hair and she longed to brush it back in place. The breeze brought the clean scent of him to her. She clamped her eyes shut for a moment, willing herself to hang onto the here and now and not be transported back in time, a time when he had been her world.
She picked up on what he couldn’t finish. “Don’t you see, Devon, it didn’t matter how much you pleaded with me to go away with you. My place was always here. And yours was to get rich. We both knew you couldn’t accomplish that here.”
“Your father saw to that.” Bitterness vibrated in his voice.
“You were always searching for something else.” Searching for something that was just out of your grasp. Something I wouldn’t be, it hurt to admit it to herself. And all I ever wanted was for you to love me. But you couldn’t, at least not the way I needed to be loved. For myself.
He shoved away from the car. “That’s not what you said that night. You stayed because this poor boy couldn’t give you what your family could. The comfort. The ease. The money.”
She blanched at how callous it sounded. I did too good of a job. “It wasn’t like that.”
“No?” He stepped closer. His anger simmered just below the surface, giving off a wave of heat that nearly suffocated her with its intensity.
Shaking her head she could only wonder what would happen next. She couldn’t very well tell him the real reason why she’d remained behind. Not now, anyway. In time, if he hangs around. He won’t stay. Devon Marshall always leaves.
He wrapped his hands around her upper arms. Jewel felt the fiery imprint of his flesh clear through her thin lavender sweater, searing her to the core. Her body strummed to life, remembering his touch.
“You take the cake, lady. Even after all this time you’re still denying it, aren’t you? Either you’re trying to convince yourself of it or you’re still playing the naïve little rich girl. But, by the looks of it, you’re not rich anymore.”
Clinging to sheer willpower, Jewel bit out, “Oh, and I suppose you are.”
“That’s right, dollface, I am.”
He released her. She reached for the side of the car to steady her quaking legs. The cool metal beneath her palm did nothing to comfort her. Dollface, he used to call her that as a term of endearment, but just now it sounded more like a curse word.
Frowning at what he’d told her, she recalled her mother’s warning, rich men only want to hold their power over your head and manipulate you just as your father does to everyone.
A shiver of unease slivered down her spine. Without even having to think about it she sensed Devon’s mission.
“So you came back to flaunt it in everyone’s face and rub their noses in it, didn’t you? The bastard child makes good, is that how you want people to see you?” She cringed at how vicious she sounded even to her own ears. He brings out the worst in me.
He stiffened, growing remote.
In a daze, she said, “It’s true then.”
“I’m here to get back my father’s reputation and the respect he deserves.” A muscle jumped along his clenched jaw.
A knot of dread formed in her belly
. She gulped hard, trying to swallow the rising bile bubbling to her throat. “How long are you in town for?” she asked in a hoarse whisper as her mind whirled with the possibility he might stay long enough to uncover her secret.
“For as long as it takes.”
The bottom dropped out of Jewel’s world as she stared up into a face so dear to her. The same features, only on a miniature scale, I look into every day. The son I adore, the son Devon doesn’t know we had together.
Chapter 3
Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Devon’s confrontation with her and yet he still failed to shake the image of Jewel Wainwright from his mind. Unfinished business, he figured as she’d occupied his musings thousands of occasions through the years.
He inserted the pitchfork in a pile of damp, stale hay in the vacant horse stall. Gathering a heap of the musty straw, Devon tossed it into the nearby wheelbarrow.
Sweat slid down into his eyes and he swiped it away with a gloved hand. Shirtless and bathed in perspiration, he rested his forearm on the handle of the pronged farm instrument, willing thoughts of Jewel away. It didn’t work this time either.
“Damn woman,” he muttered. “Damn sexy woman,” he corrected, picturing her in the form-fitting lavender sweater that enhanced the violet color of her eyes.
Biting down on a sudden wave of fresh desire, Devon tried to stem the flow of comparisons that sprang up. They came unbidden to him nonetheless. Gone was the pampered woman-child. She’d grown into an incredibly beautiful woman with long legs and more curves than a man dared to dream about.
Her face haunted him. From the delicately arched brows to her wide set eyes, down her long slender nose, to full cupid rosy lips, in the doll-like porcelain, heart-shaped face, all of it stirred him to his core. Grace and elegance completed the package. She was simply breathtaking.
A flicker of admiration sparked as he envisioned the feisty, determined woman who had faced him yesterday. No one had challenged him like that in a very long time. And no one had pushed his buttons the way Jewel could, yanking him back to the land of the living.
A woeful meow came from behind him and a second later a scrawny, smoky-gray cat wound its way around his jean-clad legs. Devon leaned the pitchfork against the wall, and then tugged off the work gloves, stuffing them in his back pocket. Stooping, he picked up the malnourished animal. A pang of empathy shot through him. Man, how many times did I go hungry trying to make it on my own?
Tucking the cat under his arm, Devon scratched its head, feeling the matted furry coat against his skin. A contented purr vibrated through the skin and bones creature. “Hey, buddy, where did you come from? I think I’ve got some tuna fish in the house. Want some?”
Another loud meow gave Devon his answer. He chuckled. “I guess that means yes.”
A few minutes later in the kitchen, with curious gray feline eyes watching his every move, Devon rooted through a box of provisions he’d bought a few days ago. “Ah, here it is. Now, let me just find the can opener and we’re in business. Oh, and I’ve got some milk stashed in the cooler you’re gonna love.”
Having prepared the simple meal, Devon straddled a wobbly chair backwards and watched the cat gobble down the food. “Hey, don’t eat so fast, you’re liable to make yourself sick.” In no time at all the pink tongue licked the bowl clean. “All right, one more can, but that’s it.”
Two muffled bangs, coming from somewhere outside, reached Devon. He stilled, straining to hear more. Nothing. “Man, I must be losing it, yesterday I think I smell roses, and then hear a squeak. Today I start talking to a cat. Now I think I hear another noise.” He shook his head in disgust. “Either it’s ghosts or my mind’s going.”
He rose, and then moved to the counter to drag out the other can of tuna. More meows rent the air. “Promise me you’ll eat this one a little slower this time, Cat… Hey, I can’t keep calling you Cat, now can I? So what’s it going to be? Give me one meow for yes, and two for no way, all right? Puss in boots? Felix? Let’s see…”
***
Jewel gazed up at the once pristine house she used to call home. Where the stone facade surrounded the front entrance, she detected accumulated dirt and dinginess. As far as the rest of the exterior, the white paint had taken on a dull, graying hue. The shudders, what remained of them, hung on what was most likely their last nail. Several broken upstairs windows spoke of abandonment. Dead shrubs and large patches of brown grass told their own story. Something tugged inside of her at the air of neglect.
What would my mother’s gardens look like? She shuddered at the image that rose to the forefront of her mind: overgrown weeds, decaying flowers, and rotting plants.
“Come on, mom, can I?”
Banishing the horrible thoughts, she turned to her son, and then smiled at his enthusiasm. Her heart swelled with love as she gazed at the joy written all over his features. “Yes, you can go explore, Sean, but don’t forget we can’t stay long.” Just long enough for one last good-bye.
“Thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder as he raced to the stables. Hints of maghoney gleamed in his dark hair as the afternoon sun shone down on him. His lean, compact eleven-year-old body made short work of the distance.
So like his father, Jewel mused as she followed at a much slower pace. Thoughts of Devon returned, never having been far away since seeing him again yesterday at the auction. The man he had become mingled, and then joined, with the boy he’d been. A rush of memories swirled in her mind and she was hard pressed to distinguish the past from the present.
How many times had she rushed to get to the stables where Devon awaited her? In the daytime, she’d been discreet, not allowing anyone to suspect their forbidden affair. That had only forced her to rely on adopting a shorthand form of communication with him.
With one look he’d been able to read her. She’d allowed him access to her most private thoughts and emotions, something she’d never let anyone before or since do. Never let anyone get close again, so they won’t hurt me like he did.
With a sudden wave of trepidation, Jewel entered the stables. She blinked rapidly to adjust to the dim interior. A waft of leather and saddle soap snuck up on her. Had she imagined it or could it be real? An ache suffused her at all she’d lost, all she hadn’t appreciated when she’d had it.
“Sean?”
He popped out of a stall at the far end of the long structure. “I’m right here, mom. I’m going back outside, there’s a shed and an old barn I want to check out.”
The barn. “Not the barn, Sean, all right?”
“Ah…come on. I promise I won’t get into any trouble or anything.”
She sighed, wondering how she could turn him down. Compromise. “Just don’t climb the ladder to the loft. The boards are probably rotten up there.” And I don’t want you to see where your father and I made love, where you were conceived.
“Great!” He ran out the back exit.
Walking through the empty building, a sense of nostalgia swept over Jewel. Oh how she loved this place, loved the horses that once resided here. It had been ages since she could afford to ride; she needed every precious penny she earned as a hairdresser to raise her son.
Smiling fondly, she peeked into several stalls Sean had apparently visited, and then stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted a half-filled wheelbarrow with a pitchfork close by.
“Someone’s been here recently. The new owners.” Berating herself, Jewel mentally retraced her steps. No sign of life had shown itself. Everything seemed vacant and uncared for.
Shoving open the nearly neck high door all the way, she entered the enclosure. She’d assumed Sean had left it ajar, but on closer inspection, she realized it was as she suspected: Someone had been working here and not too long ago.
“I’ve got to get out of here and find Sean fast before someone finds us.” She retreated several steps, and then bumped into the pitchfork. It hit her on the arm. “Ouch!”
Just as she went to rub the sore spot she heard
a familiar voice yell out, “Hey, who’s in here?”
Devon. Damn, what is he doing here? Oh, my God, Sean, keep exploring for hours like you normally do. Just this once don’t listen to me and come back too soon. Clasping her hand over her mouth she tried to cover up her sudden raspy breaths. Maybe if I keep quiet he’ll go away, and then I’ll sneak out and go find my son before Devon discovers the truth.
Devon, clutching the cat under one arm, strained to hear the voice again. I know I’m not imagining it.
“Come on out, I know you’re hiding in here. It’s just a matter or time before I find you.” Nothing.
Advancing slowly into the dimness, Devon swept his gaze over the tops of the stalls to see into the hidden recesses. He held onto the cat, figuring the animal would alert him to a presence before he came upon it.
As he drew even with the stall he’d left the equipment in, meowing sliced the air. Devon did a double take as he spotted dark hair. “Out,” he demanded to the trespasser, and then to his new feline friend, said, “Good, Cat.”
As the figure emerged, stunned wonder rushed through Devon. “Jewel?”
Her gaze landed on his bare chest, and then quickly shifted away. The heat she’d left behind seared him to his toes. She planted her hands on her hips, drawing his eyes to the way her jeans hugged her. “What, may I ask, are you doing here, Devon Marshall?”
It sounded as if she was the queen of the manor. “I think you should be answering the same question for me, missy.”
He watched as she stuck her chin out, but even in the grayish light he witnessed a streak of fear flash across those expressive eyes of hers. Is she afraid of me? Something twisted inside of him at the thought.
Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2) Page 2
