She groaned. “Just one o’clock.” How am I ever going to make it through the next ten hours?
A fresh wave of anxiety rolled over her as she contemplated what the morning would bring. Mrs. Devon Marshall. Devon’s wife. All that the titles meant weighed on her. The burden seemed to increase every time she considered the ramifications of what they were about to do. A public wedding. A public marriage.
“Just remember Sean,” she whispered over and over again, leaning forward to stroke the polish-dripping brush over her big toe nail. The crooked line left behind only made her chuckle. It came out raw and strangled.
A part of it caught in the back of her throat. A sob escaped, and then another. “No, don’t do this. Don’t fall apart now.”
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she willed herself to finish the task at hand. Five long minutes later, she screwed the cap back on the bottle.
With nothing left to do, her thoughts quickly returned to Devon, her husband. He’s a stranger. “Where’s the young man I knew and loved years ago? Where had he gone?” She’d witnessed glimpses of the person she’d known, too few to reassure her that the warm, caring man still existed. Has the accumulation of wealth eradicated all the things I admired?
“No, they’re there when he looks at or talks to Sean.” She held onto that image, clutching it to her heart. His features softened, a slight smile formed, and his eyes lost the hardness whenever Sean was near. “Our son.”
At least she could give that to both of them. But what about me? What will it be like to live with him? What will it be like to sleep beside him…to make love again? A quiver racked her body. Desire pulsed between them every time she was in the same vicinity as him. Her body betrayed her. Will my heart?
“You, ninny, that’s what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of falling in love with him again. Maybe because you never fell out of love with who he was.” At that admission, she moaned in pain. “Damn you, Devon Marshall, for making me love you then. And damn you, for not loving me, then or now.”
A hollow ache swamped her at the precarious position she’d gotten herself into. He didn’t want her. He needed her for what she could give him, their son and his vengeance. A rich man’s trophy, just like mom was. Just don’t be stupid and give him my heart this time.
Several pings sounded against her window in rapid succession. Blinking, Jewel focused on the blackness just beyond the glass. Shaking her head, she tried to brush aside a flood of memories from yesteryear. The noise came again. “No, it can’t be him.”
Rushing to the window, she twisted the lock, and then hefted the heavy wood casing. The chilly night air attacked her, making her shiver in her thin, cotton nightshirt. Peering outside, she immediately spotted Devon in the sliver of moonlight. “Go away,” she hissed.
“Jewel, oh sweet dollface.” His speech sounded slurred and he seemed to be having trouble standing.
Frowning, she asked, “Are you drunk?”
His shook his head back and forth as he said, “Nope, not one bit.” Suddenly, he fell backward. A muffled clump, then a loud grunt told her he’d hit the ground hard. “Well, maybe I am just a teeny weenie bit.”
Clamping her hand over her mouth, she tried not to laugh at his predicament. When she got ahold of herself, she dropped her hand. “What are you doing here? And where’s your coat? It’s freezing out here. Did you drive in your condition?”
An oath sliced the air as he stumbled to his feet, weaving. “Yep. I just closed one eye and followed the white line.” Triumph laced his explanation.
The heat of anger warmed her body. “Are you crazy? You could have killed yourself or someone else.”
“I didn’t know you cared.”
Muttering a curse under her breath, she noticed he advanced toward the side of the house and out of her line of vision. Bending over the sill, she peered at the thick shrubbery he’d disappeared into. “Devon? Where are you?”
A rustling sound from below rose to Jewel. “I’m gonna see my bride.”
“Don’t you dare climb my trellis, Devon Marshall!”
A hearty chuckle floated to her on the crisp, autumn air. “Too late, boss lady.”
Half of her berated him for his foolhardiness. The other half, the part that recalled many nights of anticipation waiting for him to come for her, rejoiced in this sudden display of wild abandonment. She clung to that notion that the old Devon could emerge from time to time, sweeping away her nagging doubts about marrying a stranger in just hours.
A few knocks, wood scratching wood, and several swear words later, Devon popped his head into view. A wicked grin transformed his sober features into a breathtaking roguishness that robbed her of speech. A curl of heat twined low in her abdomen, twisting in sweet agony.
He winked at her. “Hello, dollface.”
A giggle erupted, releasing a small amount of her nervous excitement. “Hello, handsome.”
At the use of his nickname, his smile widened and his deep-set eyes, dark in the dim lighting of the silvery moon, sparkled with delight.
Standing tall in her room, Jewel planted her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “Well, now that you’re here do you plan to just stay there or come in?”
His hot, lazy perusal lingered where her hands pulled the material tight across her body. A tingly sensation bubbled in her veins.
Slapping his hand over his chest, he said, “Oh, milady, how can a gentleman like myself accept such a tempting invitation?”
She played along. “Because, kind sir, you’re not.”
“You doubt me?” Dramatically, he flung an arm out, saying, “I am crushed.” The movement shifted his body and he lost his balance.
Swiftly, she bent and reached out, grabbing a handful of his black T-shirt. Half pulling, half-dragging, she yanked on the fabric and him. He tumbled into the opening, and then crashed to the floor on top of her.
A whoosh of air escaped her parted lips. Remaining still, she tried to access the damage. Nothing broken.
He rolled onto his back, holding her to him so now her head lay on his chest and her body lay on him. “Jewel, did I hurt you?”
Being in his arms once again stole any answer or sanity she had. For long moments, she remained there, relishing the powerful muscles surrounding her, the strength, and the delicious heat. The clean scent of him tickled her senses.
Gingerly, his hands stroked her in places only he’d touched. The feel of his calloused hands through the thin barrier only made her yearn for more.
His lips brushed her ear when he turned his head to her. A responding quiver racked her body.
“Speak to me, dollface, are you hurt?”
The worry in his tone prompted her to say, “No.”
He heaved a sigh. “Thank God.” His caresses continued, seeking, heating. He stilled. “Christ, you’re not wearing any panties.”
A purely feminine smile inched up the corner of her mouth. “Does that bother you?”
His heartbeat thundered beneath her ear and his breaths came in short pants. Cupping her bottom in his hands, he pressed her into him, making her hiss at the thick, male arousal digging into her. “You know it does.”
Burying his hands in her hair, he murmured, “Why is it that every time I care about someone they end up deserting me when I need them the most?”
Jewel frowned. His momentarily sober mood had vanished to be replaced with the slurred speech once again.
“What are you talking about, Devon?”
“I loved him and her. But did it matter? No, not one bit. He up and died on me. And she…she slept with the bastard you called a father.”
His parents! Raising her head enough to look down at him, she asked, “And me, how am I involved in all this?”
His stare, dark and unreadable, unnerved her. Is he really seeing me? Long, roughened fingertips caressed her jaw, and then trailed down her neck. The warmth his touch generated fanned out to encompass her whole body. Desire flared anew.
“De
von?”
Her breathy whisper must have penetrated his foggy haze; he answered, “What happened? You were supposed to be my best friend.” Bitter disappointment rang in his accusation.
A slice of pain ripped through her. “I was.”
The hand on her neck tightened slightly. “No, you weren’t. Friends don’t do what you did.”
“I loved you.” Her declaration broke on a sob.
He cupped her face between his hands. “You were the only friend I had and you sold out to your old man instead of standing by me, your husband. I’ll never forget and I’ll never forgive you for that.”
Her heart twisted at what he’d revealed. Guilt washed over her for her part in ruining their relationship. She’d wanted the fairy tale marriage she’d always dreamed of but ended up with a sham. She could have tried harder, done more. But so could he.
A second later, his eyes closed and his hands fell away. “Damn you for passing out on me,” she muttered as conflicting emotions swarmed inside her. He’d spoken of friendship. But what about years of plotting his revenge on the Wainwrights?
Disgusted with him for creating chaos inside her and herself for falling under his charm once again, Jewel slid off Devon, and then straightened her nightwear around her thighs.
A soft knock on the door had her jerking her head up. “Mom, you okay in there?”
“Yeah, come on in, honey.” When he entered, she smiled at her pajama-clad son holding a bat.
He nodded to Devon. “Is dad gonna be all right?”
Waving a hand over Devon’s prone figure, she said, “There’s no need to worry. He’s just asleep.”
“Geez, did he climb in the window?”
“’Fraid so.”
“That must have been the bang I heard in my sleep. When I finally woke up all the way and heard voices I figured you might need me. So I grabbed my bat and came to see if everything was all right.” He moved into the room, dropping the bat on the bed as he made his way to the other side of Devon. “He reeks of beer.”
“Come on, I think between the two of us we can drag him into my bed.”
Sean shot her an indignant glare. “No way! He’s sleeping in the bottom bunk of my bed. I’m not letting him take advantage of you again. He may have fooled around with you before your first wedding, but he’s not gonna get the chance before the second one. This time you guys are gonna get it right.”
Shaking her head, Jewel could only wonder at this grown-up version of a boy. My protector. “All right, honey. It’s getting pretty chilly in here. Can you reach over and close the window from there?”
Doing as asked, he yanked down on the frame. It slammed shut, causing the glass to rattle at the impact.
A few minutes later, after much tugging and with a small amount of cooperation from Devon, Jewel supported him under one arm while Sean did the same under the other. “Just put one foot in front of the other,” she coaxed as she nudged his leg to take a step.
He chuckled, obeying her. “Isn’t that a part of a song? Where’s that from anyway?”
Sean glanced across Devon’s chest to her. “Are all drunks this nutty, Mom, or is it just dad?”
“Hey, take that back,” Devon demanded, halting in his tracks.
She tried to contain the giggle that bubbled up, but failed.
“I like when you laugh, dollface. I missed that and a whole lot of other things.” The seductive quality of his voice sent a thrill through her veins.
She jabbed him in the ribs. “Must I remind you our son is listening?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That just caused her to laugh more.
Hours later, Devon dreamed of Jewel’s laughter. The sweet music teased all his senses, making him long for more of the sultry melody. But it eluded him, always just beyond his reach.
“Jewel, where are you?”
Breaking out in a cold sweat, Devon sat up quickly, banging his head. Grabbing his throbbing forehead, he cursed long and loud.
A rustling noise somewhere above him sounded, and then his son’s upside-down face came into view in the grayish light. Frowning, Devon asked, “What are you doing here? And why are you standing on your head?”
“Don’t you remember any of it, Dad?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re drunk and you climbed into mom’s room. Now you’re sleeping it off in my bunk bed.”
Fragments of impressions swirled around his fuzzy brain. He glimpsed snatches of scenes and dragged up a sentence or two, but nothing seemed to fit together.
Sean disappeared, obviously, by the sound of it, resettling under his covers. “Now, go back to sleep. And I’m warning you, you better not try to sneak out and find mom. What kind of an example do you think you’d set for me if you did?”
Is he really only eleven? “Eleven going on forty,” Devon muttered as he sank back down, the pillow cushioning his aching head.
“I heard that.”
Grinning, Devon tried to drift off. But he seemed wide-awake now. Worry crowded in his gut. “Hey, Sean, how bad of a fool did I make of myself?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Well, I didn’t really see a lot, but when I got to her room by the look on mom’s face she was kinda upset, you know, pale-looking.”
He swore under his breath.
“You know mom and I have a swear jar. Every time one of us uses a bad word we have to put a quarter in it. You keep going like this and we’ll fill it up in no time.” He heard the smile in his son’s words.
“A quarter?”
“Yep. Seems to me you owe it at least a couple of dollars already and that’s not counting before tonight while we tried to get you into bed.”
Groaning, Devon could only imagine what his son had heard out of his mouth. He blew out a hot breath. “Well, just let it be a lesson to you on how not to behave.”
“Oh, believe me, I won’t.”
Tensing, Devon waited for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, he gathered his courage and asked, “What exactly did I do?”
“You really don’t want to remember that part.”
“Come on, tell me.” Just how bad could I have been anyway? A tightness grew in his gut at the silent answer he gave himself.
“If I tell you, will you promise you won’t tell mom? She doesn’t know I stood at the door and heard you two talking. I wouldn’t want to upset her any more than she is.”
The wealth of concern in his son’s voice shook him. I should be the adult here, not him. I should be the one trying to protect Jewel. “I won’t breathe a word,” he vowed.
“You said a bunch of stuff about her not being your best friend and how she sold out to granddad and not standing by you. But the worst was when you said you’d never forget or forgive her.”
“Christ,” Devon muttered, berating himself for being such a jerk.
“That’s another quarter.” Sean’s flippant remark failed to mask the strain in his tone.
“I’m sorry, Sean. Sorry for a lot of things I can’t take back and fix. But I swear to you I’m going to make things right with your mom. I’ve got years of making up to do for you, too.”
“All I want is to have you for my dad and for us to be a happy family. Do you think we could, Dad?”
The break in his son’s voice ripped a hole clear through Devon’s heart. If he continued this crude treatment of Jewel he’d ruin everything for Sean. He couldn’t destroy a young boy’s dream, even if that meant sacrificing his pent-up, age-old burning rage at the past. “I’ll do the best I can, son.”
How the hell am I going to fulfill my promise? A wave of anxiety rolled over him at the thought of letting go of the hatred he’d carried for so long, that had made him who he was today. Without it, he didn’t know anything else. Searching his mind, his memory, he found it empty of anything other than the driving force of his anger.
So many of his actions since returning to his hometown made sense now. Jewel had been
an easy target to pin all his fiery emotions on. His father was gone, Simon Wainwright, too. And his mother was ensconced in a retirement home deteriorating from Alzheimer’s. No one from that time had survived except Jewel and him. How simple it was to blame her. And not yourself.
Now, without that barrier of hate between them, he’d have to deal with her head on. There would be nothing left to shield him any longer, nothing to keep him safe from exposing all the raw, powerful feelings he’d felt for her then and how he’d buried them in a deep pocket of his soul.
A bead of perspiration trickled down his temple. Another soon followed. I can’t let her discover the hold she had on me. And, if I’m not careful, it could happen all over again.
***
At quarter to eleven the next morning, Devon paced his empty, renovated library. The hardwood floor gleamed in the late morning arch of sunlight and the sounds of his footsteps bounced off the cream-colored walls.
The new navy-blue suit he wore fit perfectly, but seemed stifling. And the tie felt more like a noose. He tugged at it now. With his other hand, he raked his fingers through his hair.
Just then Sean, wearing a similar suit, entered with the smoky-gray cat following on his heels. “Stop messing with your tie, Dad. It’s all cock-eyed now. Here, let me fix it for you.”
Devon turned fully to his son, smiling tightly. Sean winked at him. “You should see mom, she’s just as bad as you are.”
He frowned at that piece of information as his son’s small hands righted the fabric and the cat weaved through his legs. “Is she?”
“Uh huh. You’d think you two wouldn’t be this nervous having gone through this already.”
“It was a long time ago.” And it was just us, the minister, and his wife. Back then, we’d been in love.
Pulling away, Sean said, “There, now don’t touch it again, all right?” He shrugged. “At least the lump on your forehead doesn’t look too bad. We did a good job covering it with some of your hair, didn’t we?”
Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2) Page 5
