That stopped her cold. “You just can’t have a future with me, is that it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I can’t cut myself off like you do, ending my dreams for the years to come. I need some hope to survive.”
The vicious muttered curse that came over the line shocked her. “I can’t give you more than what I am.”
“You mean, you won’t.” She hesitated, taking deep, steadying breaths. A fresh trickle of tears slid down her face as she realized the condemning prophecy for them both. Softly, she said, “And I can’t keep giving less than who I am. It’s either all or nothing for us, Devon. You decide.” Gently she replaced the receiver in its cradle as sobs racked her body.
Devon heard the unmistakable dial tone buzz in his ear. “Damn!” He tossed the cell phone down and rose to pace the living room.
The pristine décor only added to his err. Black leather furniture and glass-topped tables with chrome finishings surrounded him in the penthouse apartment. Cold. Instantly, his thoughts jetted to Jewel’s decorating efforts. Warm. Cozy. Home.
“Lord, I miss that woman.” His heart ached with each word. The hollowness in his core vibrated with emptiness.
His gaze landed on the yellow paper gripped in his hand. He’d been studying Sean’s list for long minutes right before she called, memorizing each item uniquely special to his Jewel, his romantic. She’d changed so much, gaining a vein of strength, courage, and determination that stunned him at times. Yet, at the heart of her, she’d stayed the same, sweet woman he’d loved years ago.
Glancing back at the phone, he willed it to ring, willed her to call him once again. Its silence echoed in the large, modern room.
The mounds of paperwork littering the couch and coffee table should be dealt with without delay. But he held little passion for his work tonight. “Hell, I haven’t had that same spark since I came back. My mind wanders to Jewel all the time. And when the days used to fly by, now the hours drag until I can call Sean after he gets home from school everyday.” What the hell’s happening to me?
His business partner had obviously picked up on the change in him. Tate, newly engaged, had suggested they sell the company so he could go off sailing and Devon could be with his family permanently.
Grimacing now, Devon wondered if Tate even had a clue as to how tempting and frightening that prospect appeared to him at this very moment. “She’s still the untouchable princess. Still forbidden to a poor boy like me.”
Blowing out a breath, he dragged a hand through his hair, staring at the black cell phone. A half smile formed as he recalled Jewel’s words. “So, you see what’s in my heart, do you? Well, dollface, there’s only been room for revenge for years.”
A thought struck him. “God, that’s a bald-faced lie.”
Since leaving her years ago, it seemed as if he’d been in constant rehabilitation, purging his soul of Jewel. For the most part, he assumed it had worked; there had been only images, memories, or thoughts of her once in a while.
But now, he realized she’d been there every step of the way with him, only he’d buried it deep down, afraid to allow his love to surface, afraid to hurt again. She’d always occupied a tiny pocket of his heart. “And always will,” he murmured, shaking from the startling revelation.
He’d figured he could walk away this time without regrets, but something his father used to say stuck out now. No one really regrets what they’ve done, it’s what they didn’t do that they regret the most.
Suddenly, he recalled how much remorse he experienced at not being there for his wife and son the last twelve years. With that recollection came the instant recognition that if he didn’t give it his all this time, he’d end up an old, lonely man dreaming of what might have been.
Jewel’s words from a few minutes ago came back again to haunt him. ‘I see what’s in your heart. A man worth something.’
A ripple of shock washed over him. “She never saw me as tainted in any way,” he whispered, trying to grasp ahold of the situation. Images of her as a little girl, as a teenager, and then finally as a young woman handing him the treasured handmade Valentine cards every year they’d been in school sprang to mind.
The only Valentine anyone in class had ever given me.
“She never treated me like dirt, not like the others, not like her father had.”
But she’d claimed to love me, yet she didn’t leave town with me. Do I dare risk being rejected another time? Do I dare give her the chance to shred my heart into little pieces all over again?
Taking short, quick breaths, Devon moved to the phone. Picking it up, he punched in the series of numbers. Each ring only added to his determination. Finally on the fifth one, a man answered.
“What can I do ya fer?” The friendly Texas twang made Devon smile widely.
“Tate. Marshall here. Let’s sell.”
Five minutes later, with a lightened spirit, Devon pressed the release button, and then quickly punched in a new set of numbers. At the official sounding female voice coming from the other end, he said, “Get me the next flight out of Dallas/Fort Worth to Hartford.”
Chapter 20
Hours later, with his bag clutched in his hand, Devon stood outside the darkened house, wondering at his upcoming reception. Would Jewel welcome him with open arms or shove him away after all the hell he’d put her through?
“Most likely kick me out once she figures out I’m getting rid of everything in Texas except the ranch. My one hold out just in case this doesn’t work.”
Frozen in place, he couldn’t bring himself to close the last few yards that separated Jewel and him. Fear held him in its grip in the chilly, cloud-covered night.
Part of him cursed himself for the weakness. The other half of him wished to extract the tissue-wrapped package he’d included among his clothes in his suitcase, and then present it to her the moment he saw her again and be done with it.
Twelve handmade Valentine cards addressed to Jewel lay nestled in a pink satin ribbon. Each one had been painstakingly created every February they’d been apart. The words he’d failed to utter to her when they’d been together were all there, his heart exposed, his soul bare.
As much as he longed to hand them over, something held him back, leftovers from a life gone by. He couldn’t quite let down his guard entirely.
Blowing out a breath, he watched the air turn it to a white frost. He should go in. But still he stayed rooted to the spot.
Something about all the pain from the past nudged his thoughts in a different direction. Marriage in general seemed to be a curse in both Jewel’s and his family. His father’s had failed, so he’d sought out his mother. Never once did his father bother to hide the fact he’d hated the institution that bound him to another woman.
“But was it marriage itself, or her?” Devon wondered aloud now.
Just as quickly, he recalled how Wainwright had claimed to adore his wife, yet once she grew ill, he’d abandoned her to nurses and turned to another woman for the last two years of his wife’s life.
“Some fine examples we’ve had,” he muttered, working out one of the puzzles of why he’d known Jewel and he would be destined for disaster right from the start. “That’s one of the reasons why I wouldn’t stay and give it a chance. That’s why I’m certain we can’t have a future.”
A tight band squeezed his chest, sending an ache throughout his body and clear to his core. “Is it really hopeless?”
An image of Sean sprang to mind. “God, what kind of legacy are we giving our son?”
He drew in a deep, shaky breath, gulping the cool air into his lungs. With it came a clarity he’d never known before. At ten, just a year younger than Sean was now, he’d lost his father, shattering the little bit of security he’d ever experienced. Three years later, Jewel had buried her mother, throwing her into a tailspin. After that neither one of them had an intact marriage to show them how it was done, Devon figured.
“But it doesn’t have to be that way. Sean just started with
me where Jewel and I ended with out folks. From this point on it’s just guess work. We can create what we want, right?”
Hope welled inside of him, releasing him from his paralyzed state. With tentative steps, he moved to the door. A niggling fear still rode his back, but he’d do everything in his power to quiet it over the coming weeks. He sensed this was his one and only shot for everything he ever wanted: his revenge, Jewel, and now Sean, a real family.
Shifting his bag, he dug into his pocket for his keys. A moment later, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. In the foyer, a dark shadow caught his attention, sending his heart to his throat. A soft meow soon followed.
“Someday you’re gonna scare the wrong person, Cat. Then where will you be?”
The feline meowed once again, and then padded lightly up the stairs. Devon shook his head as he closed and bolted the door behind him. In the dim interior, with only his instincts to guide him, he followed the gray ball of fur to the second floor.
Gingerly, still grasping his suitcase, he made his way to his wife. He hesitated outside the room, his reluctance to face her barring him from entrance as much as the wooden barrier.
Mustering his courage, he reached out and twisted the knob. The soft click grated along his nerves as the door swung open. Squinting, Devon waited to adjust to the darkness. Finally he was able to distinguish Jewel curled up in the center of the bed, her long porcelain legs, free of the quilt, clearly visible.
Frowning, he thought, how cold she must be. Quickly, he went to her side, dropping his bag in a nearby chair. He tried to figure out a way to shift her under the covers without waking her.
Reaching out, he touched her silky leg. Icy. His concern grew ten fold. Gingerly, he tugged the wedged quilt from beneath her. She moved restlessly. He stilled, holding his breath.
She tensed, and then sat upright, screaming. The sharp, high-pitched screech pierced his eardrums.
Just as swiftly, she stopped, gulping in great breaths. Running footsteps beat a path down the hallway. A shrieking sound from the cat came next.
“Mom, are you all right? I heard you scream.” Sean flicked on the light. Devon blinked at the sudden brightness. With his baseball bat clutched over his shoulder ready to swing, he faced his father, ready to go to battle with the intruder. “Dad?” His grip loosened and he eased the club to the floor, still holding onto the end of it as the gray feline rubbed against his leg. “Man, you scared me.”
Devon’s heart expanded as he gazed at his son, so young, so protective in his new dark blue pajamas. If need be, Devon figured, he’d have fought to hell and back for his mother. “Sorry about that,” he choked out, awed by how much of a young man his son was at times.
Looking at Jewel, he noted how she had a hand pressed to her chest as she regained her composure. He dragged a hand through his hair, repeating Sean’s unanswered question, “Are you all right?”
Nodding, she shot them a weak smile.
“You didn’t climb in the window again, did you, Dad?”
Holding back a chuckle, he said, “Not this time, son.”
“Good.” He yawned really loud, and then said, “Goodnight.” He turned, dragging the bat behind him. The cat scampered off to catch up with him. Devon barely made out Sean’s next sleepy words. “Hey, Cat, have we tried Whiskas yet?”
At the two sharp meows that came next, Devon smiled broadly. Turning back to Jewel, he said, “I guess that means he doesn’t like that one either.”
Wide, violet eyes stared up at him. He gulped hard as he scanned from her disheveled black hair, past her sleep-pinkened cheeks, to her slightly parted rosy lips. Allowing his gaze to travel downward, he became mesmerized by the way her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. A knot formed low and deep in his abdomen, tightening as his eyes landed on how his shirt bunched at her hips exposing the long expanse of her bare, shapely legs. A groan rumbled in his chest.
Apparently aware of his scrutiny, she shifted abruptly so now she kneeled on the bed, with her sexy legs tucked beneath her. A shaft of disappointment lanced through him.
Tension swirled around him as she folded her arms across her chest. A cold sheen of perspiration beaded on his forehead. In the back of his mind he wondered if she was about to toss him out of her life. Her fierce look and next words didn’t ease his worry one bit.
“What the hell are you doing here, Devon?”
***
Looking out the row of windows, Jewel drummed her fingers on the kitchen counter. She barely registered the freshly weeded, barren garden she and Cyrus had worked diligently on the past week. Just as they had for the last fifteen hours since Devon returned, her thoughts stayed centered on her husband.
“Why?” she wondered aloud. “Why race back in the middle of the night to tell me he’d give it his best shot when he’d been bound and determined to walk away a free man?”
A coldness gripped her heart when she focused on the only answer she could come up with: She was his responsibility, his burden. That had to be it. Love wasn’t an issue; they’d loved each other for so long, but it had never been enough. And as far as Sean was concerned, Devon had already planned on continuing to be a part of his son’s life.
“Hey, what smells so good?” Devon’s question startled her from her reverie.
Twisting around, her breath caught in her throat at her glimpse of him leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. She gulped hard as she took in his mesmerizing green eyes and roguish grin. His hair, usually neatly styled, drooped over his forehead, making her long to brush it back as she’d done countless times years earlier.
“Pot roast,” she finally answered, dragging her gaze away from the way his black T-shirt stretched over his sculptured muscles and how his jeans outlined his long, powerful legs. “Uh, dinner will be ready as soon as the biscuits are done.”
Flustered, she turned back to the counter, busying herself with transferring the beef from the roasting pan to the serving platter. The beautifully browned, aromatic meat should have had her mouth watering, but it had the opposite effect, making her slightly queasy. Nerves, she figured.
Or what I’ve suspected for a few days now.
She kept that deduction to herself, burying it deep inside, afraid it may very well be true.
Devon’s light touch on her arm made her jump. His clean scent assailed her nostrils, shoving aside her momentary discomfort. “How did you move so fast without me hearing?” she blurted out, taking a step back, creating some much needed distance from this magnetic pull she always experienced with him.
“Practice, remember? How else could I sneak up to this house many a night without your dad catching on?”
His easy manner and playful words put her at ease.
Maybe he won’t mention how he spent the reminder of last night holed up in his study and not in bed with me.
Jewel didn’t think she could endure any probing questions right now, couldn’t give answers to something she herself didn’t understand.
Like how come I wanted this, wanted him here yet immediately grew wary of the motives behind it?
A smile tugged at her lips as she focused on his query. “We did have a couple of close calls though, didn’t we?” She peeked up at him from under her lashes as she extracted the potatoes and carrots from the pan and arranged them around the succulent meat.
“Boy, did we.” The deepening of his voice alerted her to the heightened tension swirling between them. “Where’s Sean?”
“Football practice. Kev’s mom is picking the boys up, then taking them shopping with her. She’s famous for stopping at Mickey D’s, so I figured we’d start dinner without him.” She measured her words, carefully considering each and every one so she could concentrate on the task at hand and not allow her thumping heart to get the best of her.
Drawing closer, his heat washed over her and a low ache blossomed to life. “Devon,” she whispered, dropping the spoon. It clattered noisily on the counter. She
pressed her palm against his chest to ward him off. Instantly, she lost her willpower as she felt the wild tempo hammering beneath the surface.
He covered her hand with his large, strong one. “It’s been a long time since you’ve touched me.” Leaning down, he said softly in her ear, “It feels so good.”
A shiver racked her body as his warm breath caressed her. Gingerly, he feathered kisses along her jaw, making his way to her mouth.
“And it’s been too long since I’ve tasted you, dollface.”
She closed her eyes the moment his firm lips captured hers in a slow, experimental embrace. When she responded by increasing the pressure, he lazily trailed his tongue along her flesh, slicing open the entrance to allow him full access.
Someone moaned, she thought, trying to decipher the continual sound infringing on the deep erotic, wet kiss. When his arms surrounded her, she melted into him, savoring the taste and touch of her husband. Lord, she’d missed him, missed the way she came to life being in his strong, loving arms. She never wanted this to end.
Abruptly, he pulled away, and then pressed his forehead against hers. “The buzzer,” he choked out between gulps of air.
“Huh?” she asked, trying to regain some sort of semblance of sanity along with her breath.
“The oven. The biscuits.”
Groaning in understanding, she recognized the incessant noise that had penetrated her foggy brain a few seconds ago and still blared. On shaky legs, she went to the stove, and then reached out to silence the offending buzz. She made short work of extracting the golden mounds and sliding them onto the awaiting plate. With nothing left to do, she fidgeted.
Blanketed in sudden and complete stillness, she sensed the increasing oppressive atmosphere. Neither she nor Devon moved. Seconds ticked by, stretching endlessly.
Unable to endure it a moment longer, she broke the awkwardness. “Listen, let’s forget what just happened and not mention it, all right?”
He half-laughed and half-snorted. “That’s convenient.”
Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2) Page 17
