Sizzle

by Sarah O'Rourke

  The Pekingese merely deepened his warning growls as he pawed at Devil’s now-covered feet.

  “Look,” he murmured, throwing his legs to the floor as he looked between the two animals, “We’re all going to have to come up with a way to tolerate each other, because while I’d give anything to make you both into decorative throw pillows, I doubt your Mommy is going to be willing to part with either of you mongrels.” That was assuming he could convince Molly to listen to reason this morning. Last night certainly hadn’t ended well for either of them.

  Who knew that being noble and doing the right thing could get a guy into so much trouble?

  Okay, maybe his laughter had been a mistake. But, damn, when irony slapped a guy in the face, what else could he do but chuckle?

  And it was certainly ironic that the woman he’d finally fallen for after many long years of bachelorhood should be the woman that had been right beneath his nose his entire life? Add that to the fact that said woman thought he was a renowned philanderer when he hadn’t even been able to get an erection that she hadn’t inspired in two years ….and yeah, he’d been overcome by the hilarity of the situation and reacted accordingly.

  Gingerly touching his bruised jaw, he shook his head. He had nobody to blame but himself. Last night had concluded in a disaster of his own making. Given the volatile state of his desire, he never should have touched her. At least the feisty woman he’d been kissing hadn’t blackened his eye. That would be hell to explain. Nope, she’d settled for nearly breaking his jaw and splitting his lip with that right hook of hers before she’d locked herself in her bedroom.

  On the upside, at least he knew she could defend herself if it ever became necessary. That had been his doing, too, he supposed. He and Grant had been the idiots that had insisted she learn a few self-defense stances in case she ever needed to protect herself. Before she left for college six years ago, he’d taught her the art of that right cross she’d landed on him last night. At the time he’d never imagined her inflicting those skills on him, though.

  It was true; his lady could land one hell of a solid punch if she was provoked.

  Expelling a long breath as he rubbed his hands over his face, he finally forced himself to rise from his seat.

  Both animals merely glared balefully at him, each silently judging him and his actions. He was pretty sure that they’d heard their mistress crying last night. God knew that he’d heard it, too. After screaming at him to get out of her life and house and delivering a parting sucker punch that had made him see stars, Molly had disappeared into her bedroom, slamming and locking her door behind her. Her sobs had kept him outside her bedroom door for the better part of an hour. He’d begged her to talk to him, but he’d only been answered with silence and her soft cries.

  He felt like shit for hurting her, and Devil was pretty sure he couldn’t blame her animals for plotting his imminent demise. They were in good company, though, since he’d given some serious thought to throwing himself off the nearest bridge last night.

  “I’m not a bad guy,” he told them plaintively, holding his hands out to his sides as he faced the judgmental duo. “I want to marry her. I’m going to marry her. Then, I’ll give her all the orgasms she can handle. Hell, I’ll give her more than she can handle. Right after I make her understand that I’m not some oversexed millionaire that gets into the panties of every woman I see.”

  He could feel the animals assessing him. Both their little heads were cocked to the side and their eyes were focused on him. Speaking about orgasms and panties to a couple of four-legged assassins wasn’t exactly his normal method of coping, but a guy had to do what a guy had to do.

  “I’m going to make this work for all of us. I’m a freaking legend in the boardroom. I can negotiate with one tiny woman and two small animals.”

  The cat yowled in response.

  “Look, I can promise you all the catnip you can handle, Coco. And you,” Devil bargained with a grin, gesturing toward the pooch on the arm of the sofa, “Can you say gourmet kibble?”

  Chanel’s answering snarl had Devil taking a step backward.

  Looking a little desperately between the cat and dog, he hissed, “I’m in love with her, okay? I love her! So, you can’t hate me. We’ve got to work together here for the best possible optimal outcome. You two are a part of that. Molly values your opinion. She’ll take her cues from those she loves the most, dammit!” So, that meant getting these animals and her slightly psycho gal pals to like him.

  No fucking problem, right?

  And the fact that he was considering contacting a pet psychic to help wasn’t at all crazy, now was it?

  “C’mon, Coco,” Devil murmured, reaching out a hand to pet the cat’s head. “Let’s be pals.”

  He jerked his palm back as soon as the feline bared fang. Sighing, he looked toward Chanel.

  “What about you?” he asked the dog. “Are you interested in being man’s best friend?”

  Sniffing Devil’s hand, Chanel yapped once before jumping off the sofa and scampering to where he’d slipped off his eight hundred dollar Italian loafers the previous night. Watching as the small canine lifted his leg over the expensive leather and peed, Devil’s jaw dropped.

  “You could have just bit me!” he yelped, staring at the ruined footwear the dog left behind before he’d scampered out of the room. Devil winced as Coco jumped from his perch and used his bare back as a springboard to land smoothly on the floor in front of the shoes, and he could have sworn the damn cat cackled.

  Sighing as both animals disappeared down the hallway, he shook his head.

  The pet parlay had obviously failed, but he consoled himself with the knowledge the first-time offers were often rejected.

  This war was still his to win.

  He just needed to find the right artillery.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As soon as Molly Ramsey opened her eyes Saturday morning, she groaned. Sunlight poured through the east-facing windows of her bedroom, temporarily blinding her. Why, oh why, had she even decided to face the new day?

  “Nnnnghhh,” Molly groaned, lifting a hand to shield her face from the sun’s glare. Of course, it just had to be a bright, clear morning. Why couldn’t it have been cloudy and rainy? At least then the weather would match her current dismal mood. And in the very instant she’d woken, memories from the previous night had flooded her consciousness and ruined her day before it had even gotten started.

  It was her own fault.

  She’d been a fool, throwing herself at Devil like she had, and embarrassment burned like acid in her belly. How the hell did she face him now? Thoughts of taking the first plane to anywhere but here tempted her. She had a little vacation time saved and a little money in the bank. Maybe she should just take a long weekend and disappear.

  Knowing Devil, though, he’d just track her down like a dog and drag her back here to face the music. She’d give the man points for persistence. Even after she’d locked herself in the bedroom, he’d stood at the door and told her that nothing had changed.

  He still planned to marry her.

  He’d already deemed it a foregone conclusion.

  She knew his confidence should have irritated her. After all, who was he to simply assume she’d go along with his wacky matrimonial plan? There had to be a way to get her off the hook without destroying Nana’s grand illusions and shackling herself to a man that had the power to cripple her emotionally. Surely there was one other woman besides her that his grandmother would accept as her new granddaughter-in-law.

  Pushing the covers back, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She couldn’t hide all day. She needed to let her pets out to potty and check on Nana.

  It was with that plan in mind that she trudged to the small bathroom attached to her bedroom and splashed her pale face with water. After using the bathroom, she ran a brush through her naturally curly red hair and tried to tame it into some semblance of order, and then brushed her teeth. Staring in th
e mirror, she shrugged.

  Not great, but she didn’t look like something out of a bad horror movie anymore. Besides, if God was good, she could avoid Devil until Monday. She’d simply make sure he wasn’t there before she went to visit Nana today. She’d make up an excuse for not having the engagement ring the old woman wanted to see on her finger.

  Good luck with that, her conscience snickered. Nana’s like Santa. She knows when you’ve been naughty or nice. She can spot a lie at twenty paces.

  “Shut up, Marilyn,” Molly growled under her breath as she shoved her feet into Hello Kitty slippers. Why did that inner voice have to sound like a blonde bimbo channeling Marilyn Monroe? Why couldn’t it have resembled Maggie Smith? At least that chick had some dignity about her. Marilyn’s great claim to fame was boinking JFK. And if the internet was to be believed, more than one chick had had that privilege, anyway.

  Cautiously opening her bedroom door, Molly stepped into the hallway and listened closely. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she relaxed and strolled into the living room. Pausing to scratch Coco’s head, she smiled at the cat. “Let me get some caffeine in me and I’ll serve you a nice can of tuna, sweetie,” she promised the feline before making her way into the kitchen.

  “Chanel,” she called for her Pekingese. “C’mon, baby! Time to go potty,” Molly yelled over her shoulder as she pushed open the swinging door to her kitchen and froze.

  “Well, good morning, Sunshine! It’s a beautiful day out.” Devil Delancy grinned from his position, seated at her kitchen table with a steaming mug of coffee at his side and her newspaper strewn out in front of him. “I made a pot of coffee. May I get you a cup?” he asked good-naturedly, lifting his mug toward her.

  Oh, hell no! She wasn’t prepared for this. It was Saturday. It was supposed to be a Devil-free day! The weekend was supposed to be her respite from the insanity that was his life.

  “No! No way! Nuh uh!” Molly shook her head frantically as Devil merely raised an eyebrow at her.

  “I’m going to need a complete sentence, sweetheart, if you expect me to hold a conversation,” Devil teased as he watched her auburn hair bounce over her shoulders. Damn, she was gorgeous first thing in the morning.

  “Fine. Here’s one! GET! OUT!”

  “Hmmm,” Devil hummed, calmly folding the newspaper he held into sections. “I don’t think so. You and I have some things we still need to discuss. Starting with last night, Molly.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t think so. See, there was no last night. I’ve banished all the events of the previous twenty-four hours from my memory, including that little announcement you made to your grandmother,” Molly retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Devil couldn’t help his smile. She looked endearing in her floppy house shoes and tussled faded pajamas. The lavender tee shirt she wore looked soft and molded to her body in all the right places while her boxer shorts showed him a tantalizing amount of her toned legs. He definitely approved of the ensemble.

  “Quit leering at me,” she ordered sharply, wishing she’d thought to throw on a robe before she left her bedroom. “How did you even get in here?” she asked, looking around. Chanel usually raised the roof when somebody came into the condo.

  “Honey, I never left,” Devil informed her evenly. “I bunked down on your couch last night, and let me tell you, that thing gives a whole new meaning to the words ‘torture device.’”

  Ignoring the slur to her furniture, Molly stared at him. How in the name of all that was holy could he look as gorgeous as he did right then if he’d not even been home? His dark hair was slightly tussled and his dress shirt was ever-so-rumpled, but that did nothing to quell the smoldering heat that just seemed to emanate from his very being. And for some freaking reason, his slightly swollen lip and bruised cheek only made his damned smirking face even more appealing. “You never left?” she repeated, somewhat stunned.

  “Nope.” Cocking his head as she continued to stand just inside the kitchen door and stare at him, Devil gestured toward the dining room chair across from him. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some coffee?”

  Shaking her head, Molly opened and closed her mouth several times. “What’s it going to take, Devil? Do I need to nail a cross to the front door? Sprinkle salt across my threshold? Super soak you with holy water? WHAT? How the hell do I get rid of you?”

  “I’m not a vampire, Molly,” Devil stated with exaggerated patience.

  “No! You’re Satan. Sent from the fires of hell to torment me until my dying day, it appears,” she hissed, stomping toward the coffee pot on the back of her stove.

  Looking over his shoulder, he followed her angry movements and winced as she slammed a mug against the counter. “I’d have gotten that for you,” he pointed out solicitously.

  “I didn’t want you to get it for me,” Molly ground out as she wrapped her fingers around the warm mug and brought it to her lips. “I want you to leave.”

  “Nope. Can’t do that,” Devil returned lightly. “Things to talk about, remember?”

  Pressing one hand to her temple, Molly swallowed that first bitter mouthful of coffee and prayed the caffeine would work quickly to sharpen her wits. She needed every single one of her marbles today if she was going to resist killing the infuriating man that made himself all too comfortable inside her home.

  “We’re not discussing last night. Last night did not happen,” Molly repeated sternly. And oh, how she wished that was true. She had a feeling that living down that humiliation was going to be worse than the time she tucked her dress in her pantyhose after using the bathroom at church and mooned half the congregation. It didn’t matter that she was only twelve at the time; to this day, her fellow parishioners still snickered whenever she exited the bathroom. Shame and degradation should have been her middle names.

  And yet, she’d persevered then as she would now.

  Onward, Christian soldier.

  “Oh, I’ve got a couple of bruises that say differently,” Devil retorted, wincing as he touched his marred cheek. “You pack a hell of a punch for a tiny thing.”

  “First, you only have yourself to blame. Not only did you antagonize me into hitting you, but you are the one that taught me to aim high. Second, there’s nothing tiny about me. I’m curvy and I know it. I refuse to be one of those walking, talking sticks that you seem to gravitate toward.”

  “What?”

  “You have a type, Devil. Don’t pretend that you don’t know it.” Molly scowled at him as she finally sat down in the chair across from him. “Evidently, you like your women starving. I, however, like to eat,” she continued, plucking a donut from the box on the table for emphasis and chomping down on it.

  “You’re being ridiculous. I’ve dated a variety of women over the past year.”

  “Yeah, and they all look remarkably like Twiggy,” Molly muttered around a mouthful of Krispy Kreme, sighing in delight as the sugar hit her tongue. Sweet Jesus in heaven, there was nothing better than one of these Southern-recipe, chocolate-covered little round treats. If she wasn’t ready to kill the man, she might have thanked him for breakfast. But she was certain that was never, ever gonna happen anytime soon.

  “I’m not having that argument with you, Molly Brown. You’re trying to sink my boat before I even leave the port.”

  “I don’t just want to sink your boat, Devil, honey” Molly drawled sweetly, dropping her half-eaten donut back in the box. “I wanna torpedo it!” she hissed.

  “Well, don’t pussyfoot around things, darlin’. Tell me how you really feel,” Devil drawled with a slow smile as he sat back in his chair.

  God’s teeth, but she was gonna commit a crime before noon if he kept this up. So smug and sure of himself! What she wouldn’t give to knock him down a peg or two. She needed to remember to ask Viv if it was truly assault if she just slightly maimed the man. After all, it might be quite difficult to find another job if she had a felony conviction for killing her boss on her record. Shaking her
head, she ordered sharply, “Stop smilin’ at me like the cat that done went and caught the canary, Devil!”

  “Honey, I’m the fox that got into the henhouse if I’m anything at all,” he replied lazily.

  “What you are is a burr on the butt of humanity. You’re a blight on the city of Atlanta! You’re a…”

  Holding up his hands, Devil laughed. “I think I take your point, Molly, but we’re still gonna talk about what happened between us last night.”

  “Why?” Molly whined, burying her head in her hands. “Why can’t you just leave bad enough alone?” She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, but she didn’t dare look him in the eye. She knew she was transparent as glass, and if he looked her in the eyes he’d know just how badly he’d shaken her last night. If he realized just how much she truly wanted him, he’d use it against her to get his own way. She refused to just hand him the upper hand. She had an engagement to wriggle out of, damn it.

  “I don’t think anything that happened last night was bad, Molly. In fact, it’s gonna happen again. Soon.”

  Molly jerked her head up at that. “The hell you say,” she retorted, her cheeks flaming as she glared at him.

  “You’re attracted to me, Molly. Admit it,” Devil challenged her, his gaze daring her to deny what was written all over her face.

  “I’m attracted to chocolate, too, but I’m smart enough to figure out that I shouldn’t have it with every meal.” Ignoring his chuckle, Molly shook her head. “Listen, Devil. I’m not indifferent to the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into with Nana. Really, I understand. But I can’t marry you.”

  “Yes, you can. You already told Nana that you were,” he said reasonably.

  “I’ll tell her that I lied,” Molly yelped desperately, ready to grasp at any straw available to her. She had to find a way out of this mess before Devil broke her heart.

  He would, too. She knew it.

  “And break a dying woman’s heart?” Devil raised an eyebrow as he leveled a hard look across the table at her.