“Honey, you need to calm down and try to take some deep breaths,” he ordered, keeping his voice low, but firm. And if the rash on her arm got any worse, he was personally going to call 9-1-1 and order the paramedics to cure her immediately.
“Calm? I haven’t had a case of hives since I found that asshat cheating on me!” Molly railed, growing more unnerved by the second as she raked her nails across her skin. “I swear, Devil, I’m gonna kill you!”
“Molly, you’re panicking. I want you to calm down,” he demanded deeply, capturing her hands before her nails could draw blood. Hearing her put him and the cheating dick she’d been with a few years ago in the same sentence smarted, but he could understand her frustration. Both of them had thrown her world into a tailspin. What she didn’t realize was that only one of them had ever really loved her – and it wasn’t the aforementioned asshat. Right now, however, he had a greater mission to address than defending himself against being lumped into the same category with the former asshole in her life. “Deep breaths,” he ordered softly as he rubbed his thumb over the throbbing pulse in her wrist. He watched her face as she focused on him and inhaled several deep breaths. “That’s my girl,” he praised, when the flush on her face diminished a bit. “Feel better?” he asked after a few more seconds.
Nodding wordlessly, Molly leaned her head back against the couch and eyed him. “Devil, I don’t think this,” she commented, gesturing between them, “I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“We’re working just fine,” he assured her gently, reaching for her hand again. Sliding the gold band on her finger as she held her breath, he smiled. “It’s a perfect fit,” he murmured, adjusting the stone on her finger before he laced his hand through hers. Lifting his eyes, he met her terrified gaze.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Molly asked breathlessly.
“I know exactly what I’m doing, Molly,” Devil replied gently, moving from his knees on the hardwood floor in front of her to sit beside her still body on the couch. She appeared to be barely breathing as she stiffened beside him. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he tugged her against him. “Just relax and listen to me a minute, please,” he urged her when he felt her body go rigid in his arms.
Molly stared down at the hefty diamond on the third finger of her left hand and nodded slowly. “I guess,” she consented huskily.
“I know that marrying me isn’t something that you planned on doing, Molly, but I think we can both recognize the chemistry between us. For God’s sake, we nearly set the bed on fire upstairs. We can make things work between us. I want to make things work between us,” he told her truthfully, watching her face closely as she seemed to relax against him. “I know I went behind your back and did some things today that made you angry. I’m sorry for that.”
“So you’ll undo it?” she asked hopefully, glancing up.
He’d give her points for stubbornness, he thought with a mental smile as he tightened his arm around her. Devil knew what he had to say next ran the risk of pissing her off, but he wouldn’t lie to her. She deserved as much honesty as he could offer her.
“I’m sorry I made you angry, Mols. I’m not sorry that I did it,” he clarified. “There are some things you need to understand about me… things I doubt that you’ve realized.”
“What things?” she questioned hesitantly, turning her head fully to meet him eye to eye.
“First, I’m not quite as forward-thinking as some of the guys you know,” Devil began cautiously.
“No! Say it isn’t so?” Molly replied, feigning shock as she purposefully gawked at him.
“Smartass,” he muttered, pursing his lips. He couldn’t really complain. Her quirky sense of humor was one of the qualities he enjoyed most about her. “I’m being serious.”
“Unfortunately, I know. You and Grant are throwbacks to a different generation. A way, way different generation. I’m still not sure how Karen’s managed not to plant a butter knife between my brother’s eyes.”
“She loves him,” Devil remarked simply. “A person will overlook a lot of faults when they’re in love, Molly.”
Molly bent her head and grunted noncommittally.
Devil couldn’t help his involuntary smile. She wasn’t happy with his statement, but she wasn’t objecting to it either. That was progress.
“At any rate, I’m an old-fashioned guy. Old-fashioned guys provide for their wives,” he explained patiently. “That means paying your bills and making sure that you’re adequately provided for. I can not and will not change who I am, Molly. This is it.”
Turning, Molly squinted at him. “You’re not senile, are you? Because, seriously, those ideas are positively archaic. A woman is more than capable of providing for herself in the twenty-first century, you Neanderthal.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Devil returned evenly. “You have. None of your bills were behind when I paid them. What I’m saying is that I’m more than equipped to provide for you now. It’s become my job.”
Molly shook her head and stared at him dumbly for a moment before throwing up a hand. “Okay, fine. Let’s for a second say I accept you paying off my creditors. I haven’t, but let’s, for the sake of argument, say that I did.”
“Okay,” Devil agreed eagerly with a nod of his own, “I like that plan.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Molly warned sharply, planting her elbow in his ribs with excellent accuracy. “I might be able to accept the paying off the debt thing. Eventually. But dropping half a million dollars into my bank account without my knowledge? I feel dirty with that money sitting there, Devil!”
“That money is a drop in the bucket compared to what you will shortly be entitled to, sweetheart. I told you, I believe in providing for my wife,” he reiterated, frowning when Molly lifted her hands to rub her temples, the diamond twinkling in the lamplight.
“Okay, but I’m not your wife yet, and even when I become your wife, if I become your wife…”
“Oh, there’s going to be a wedding, Molly,” Devil guaranteed her somberly. “I’m marrying you. The sooner, the better.”
“It’s not going to be a real marriage, Devil,” Molly countered a little desperately as she turned to fully look at him. “Therefore, I wouldn’t be entitled to jack squat. I don’t want jack squat. I’m not going to take diddly squat from you. For crying out loud, you put a half million dollars in my account. That’s not providing for a wife, real or imagined…it’s purchasing one.”
“The money is staying with you,” Devil stated, his position on the matter completely unaltered by her admittedly persuasive arguments.
Pressing her lips together, Molly’s cheeks reddened. “Fine,” she finally allowed with a grim nod. “I’ll give it away. I will donate every stinking penny of it to charity.”
“If that’s what you feel like you should do,” Devil returned with a bland smile. “I’ll simply keep transferring funds into your account. I’m a multimillionaire, Molly. One that seems to get wealthier every year. I can outlast you, babe. And I’ve got staying power.”
“Damn it, Devil” Molly growled, ineffectually smacking her balled fists against the sofa cushions. “Why are you doing this?”
“Look,” Devil replied slowly, sliding one hand over her small fist, “I know this isn’t the way you imagined having a man propose. It’s not ideal. But, Nana’s plight opened my eyes to things I’ve tried to avoid seeing, Molly. I’m not a young man anymore. I’m not old by any means, but I have reached that age where I need to settle down… start a family… build a life with someone. I’ve known you all your life. I trust you when I trust very, very few people. My grandmother adores you. We’re attracted to each other. We have both chemistry and history. This could work,” he rationalized calmly.
“What exactly could work, Devil?” Molly asked nervously.
“Our marriage, Molly. I want a real one. I want a real marriage with you.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Four hou
rs later, Molly Ramsey thrashed in her bed, kicking the covers off her overheated body. Turning on her side, she beat her fist against the pillow.
Damn it, this wasn’t fair! None of this was fair.
All she’d wanted to do was a good deed for a dear old woman that she loved like a grandmother. It should have been simple. She’d marry a guy she’d known her whole life for a few critical months and then get a quiet, no-fault divorce.
It was supposed to have been an emotionless transaction. At least on Devil’s part, that was. She’d known she had feelings for the insufferable bastard, but she’d been so positive that she could compartmentalize those nasty buggers away into a tightly sealed box in the corner of her mind.
That had been the fucking plan.
Well, that and making him a little miserable for the length of their faux marriage. She’d figured she was owed at least a little reward for her sacrifice.
But, damn it, he had to go and ruin everything by telling her that he actually wanted her. Them!
For the eightieth time, she heard his voice in her mind.
“I want a real marriage, Molly. Our marriage.”
Swallowing hard against the rising emotion lodged in her throat, she shook her head against the pillow. She was never going to survive this, she thought morosely.
“Well, sweetie, when you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned. Those scorch marks are no more than you deserve.”
Groaning, Molly dragged a pillow over her head. “Shut up, Marilyn,” she wailed as the imaginary blonde bimbo’s breathy laugh echoed in her mind.
It wasn’t her fault. She’d been tricked into dancing too close to the flame. Devil Delancy was a dangerously charming, sexy and sensual man that had coaxed her toward the fire.
Yes, and you couldn’t wait to jump in with both feet, could you?
Growling as Marilyn the Inner Psycho cackled again, Molly rolled over to her back.
Who could blame her for the lapse in sanity? Really? Devil was a skilled seducer, well versed in giving and receiving pleasure. She’d been doomed from the moment he’d covered her lips with his. Her clothes had basically fallen off all on their own, hadn’t they? She certainly hadn’t been in control of all her brain cells. If she had, he’d have never gotten close enough to land the first kiss.
This was all her libido’s fault. Sexual frustration had finally driven her to insanity.
But, good God, it had felt good. Even now, her body tingled from the memory of what his lips had done to her. And if she concentrated very hard, she could still taste him on her tongue.
Oh, these were not productive thoughts. Not at all.
The memories were delicious, though. Devil’s mouth had been hot and wild when he’d kissed her in the doorway of her home after he’d followed her back here tonight. He’d refused to allow her to go alone, and when she’d insisted that she needed her car in case of an emergency, he’d been adamant about following her home. She’d told him he was being an ass, but she’d been secretly thrilled.
No man had ever done those kinds of things for her; she supposed her former boyfriend just hadn’t cared enough to bother.
And when he’d seen her to the door and advised her to give what he’d said about their upcoming marriage some serious thought, it had been her first instinct to slam the door in his arrogant face. She would have, too, if his boot hadn’t been quicker than her arm. Before she’d realized what was happening, however, he’d slid his foot between the door and the doorjamb and leaned over the threshold to cup a hand around her neck and pull her lips to his.
And as it had every, single time he touched her, passion had exploded between them.
Her plain cotton panties got damp just thinking about those steamy moments they’d shared during the evening. She could still feel his tongue swirling around hers, sensually exploring her mouth as one of his hands had cradled her head while the other was left free to explore her body. It was only when she’d felt his hands easing her shirt back up over her waist in plain sight of the neighborhood that she’d found the inner fortitude to shove at his chest and back him out of her house. She’d refused to allow herself a replay of what had already occurred between them in his bedroom earlier.
At least, not until she made a decision about them.
She had finally slammed the door in his face – it had just taken a few moments longer than it should have. She’d also heard his deep chuckles as he’d walked back down her sidewalk to his own car.
Even hours later as she replayed that laugh in her head, it made her smile.
“Craaaapppp,” she muttered to herself. “Why him, Lord? We’re all wrong for each other,” she whined, staring up at the ceiling. “He’s overbearing and arrogant. He’s too blasted attractive to be considered legal. His kisses feel like bottled sin. He’s all wrong for me, isn’t he, Lord?”
Everything she had spoken was true, she thought desperately as she silently asked the Almighty for guidance. But, even as solid as those facts were, she could admit to herself that nothing had ever felt more right than being in his strong arms.
“Just give me a sign, Lord. Something that lets me know which way to go here,” she begged, biting her lip as her eyes blurred with tears. “One teeny tiny sign,” she whispered, swallowing hard. A moment later when the phone beside her bed rang shrilly, she jerked upright, startled. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was just after two in the morning, she clamored for the cordless, jabbing the button quickly.
“Hello?” she greeted whoever was on the other end of the line breathlessly.
“So, you’re not asleep either, huh?” a deeply familiar baritone drawled from the other side of the city.
“Devil.” Molly couldn’t help the smile that accompanied his name.
“You’ve got other men calling you at this time of morning?” he asked sardonically.
Her lips twitched again at the slightly put out tone she heard reflected in his voice. “Nope. Just you,” she acknowledged softly. “Although this is the first time you’ve ever called me this late.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he confessed.
“Me either,” she replied truthfully, gripping the phone. How was it possible that just the sound of his voice could make her nether regions do a happy dance? “What made you call me?” she asked before she could call the question back.
“Do you want the truth?” he asked huskily.
Leaning her shoulders against the headboard of the bed, she bit her lip and thought about her answer. Honesty was always the best policy, right? “I do,” she returned quietly.
“The truth is that after having you in my bed tonight, however briefly, I miss you here now. The pillows still smell like that lilac perfume you wear,” he confided deeply. “It’s driving me crazy, Molly. I want you here with me.”
Her heart skipped a beat as he confided in her and she felt herself flush with happiness. Hell, she felt positively giddy. “Devil,” Molly whispered. “You have no idea how much you’re confusing me right now.”
“I know,” he conceded with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this, Molly. In fact, I’ve fought this very thing since the day you showed up in my office needing a job. But, you know the saying, honey. Man plans and God laughs.”
Molly shivered as she listened to him spout the old proverb. Well, she’d asked for a sign she thought with a hard look at the ceiling. “I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around the idea of an ‘us’, Devil,” she worried aloud, chewing on one of her nails nervously. “Up until about thirty-six hours ago, I was convinced that you’d nailed half the female population in Atlanta. Now, you keep proclaiming that you want me.”
“First of all, I’m not just proclaiming that I want you, Molly. I think I gave you a pretty fair demonstration of just how much I need you this evening right here on the very bed I’m sitting on. Second, I told you that I used those women as a smoke screen to keep from acting on what I felt like was an inappropriate attraction at the time. I did
what I thought I needed to do in order to keep you safe from me. And third, you don’t seem to quite believe that I do want you, angel. Why is that?” he questioned softly.
Embarrassed by his question, Molly stared down at her comforter, unable to form a response.
“Molly… honey, answer my question,” Devil urged, his deep voice gentle and sweet.
“I…I don’t know how to answer that. I mean, obviously I’m not your type of woman, Devil. I’m nothing like those women you’ve been escorting around the greater Atlanta area this year,” she blurted quickly, hating how vulnerable that admission made her feel.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice tight.
Pressing the phone to her ear, Molly grimaced and felt a blush redden her cheeks. At least he wasn’t here to witness her humiliation. “They looked like models, Dev. Some of them were models,” she recalled painfully. “Thin and beautiful. Cultured and poised.”
“They were also bitchy, greedy, deceptive, caustic, and dull as dishwater,” he informed her truthfully. “You’re beautiful, Molly. Inside and outside. Your smile lights up a room and your laugh makes me believe that real happiness might actually exist. You never met a lie you could tell worth a damn, and you don’t have the time or energy it takes to bother with putting on airs. No matter what kind of day I’ve had, I can look at your face and feel happy. Believe me, darlin’, none of those ladies can claim that feat. Jaded as I might be, I can still recognize a genuine lady when I see one, and the only one I’ve watched for the last year has been sitting outside my office door five days a week driving me to distraction with her sweet smiles and hair-trigger temper.”
Sizzle Page 17
