Moonlight Scandals

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Moonlight Scandals Page 31

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  “Sometimes we’ve got to wonder if that curse is true. I mean, you know the stories about the accidental deaths and crazy ways people have died on our property. But there’s another part of the curse. It’s not a bad part, but people only ever focus on the bad.”

  “I know everything there is about that curse. I’ve never heard there was another part.”

  His gaze lifted to hers. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you what the other part is if you go to dinner with me.”

  Her stupid heart did another happy jump. It felt a little less stupid now but still. Even as big as what he’d just shared was, it didn’t mean he was going to do a one-eighty. “Devlin . . .”

  “Give me a chance, Rosie. Just one chance.”

  “I don’t know. You’ve just shared something pretty major and completely scandalous.” She laughed dryly, still processing what he’d shared. “So, yeah, you’re trying, but—”

  “A chance, Rosie,” he repeated. “One night. Dinner. Tonight.”

  Her stomach dipped like she was on a roller coaster. “I can’t tonight.”

  “Then tomorrow night.”

  She opened her mouth, but Devlin leaned forward suddenly, curling his fingers around her chin. The contact was like touching a live wire. “Just dinner, Rosie. Please.” Please.

  Rosie had the distinct feeling he didn’t say please a lot, if ever, and that one word, so softly spoken, punched a truck-sized hole through the wall she was desperately trying to build up between them. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” His eyes widened.

  “Okay.”

  “I was prepared to get on my knees and beg.”

  She grinned. “You can still do that if you want.”

  He let out a low chuckle. “I would, but I have a feeling if I got on my knees, I’d end up doing something your sister would not want to walk in on.”

  Oh dear.

  Her entire body flushed hotly. “You’re probably going to regret this dinner.”

  “There are few things I regret. This would definitely not be one of them.”

  “We’ll see,” she murmured.

  “You’re right. We will. I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night. Wear something formal.” He touched the tip of his thumb to her bottom lip, startling her. She sucked in a sharp breath. The touch was as soft as velvet and light as air, barely there, but her entire body felt it. A frisson curled low in her stomach as her heart lodged itself somewhere in her throat.

  “You have beautiful eyes, Rosie.” His thumb smoothed along her lower lip and then his hand was gone. “Tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night,” she repeated, and she had the distinct feeling she had just made a deal with the Devil.

  Chapter 30

  “Sabrina is dead.” Archie’s gruff voice was lanced with frustration as Dev stared down at the iPad.

  “What?” Dev was unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

  “The Mercedes was found abandoned in a small town near the border and she was in it. I’m thinking she was going to make a run for Mexico.”

  “What happened?”

  “Shot in the back of the head, execution-style.”

  “Jesus.” Dev sat back in his chair.

  “I’m not a magic crystal ball, but if she was involved in what Lawrence was doing, she could’ve reached out to the wrong person and they deemed her a risk,” Archie responded. “That means you need to be careful.”

  A muscle flexed along Dev’s jaw as he picked up the iPad. “I’m always careful.”

  “You need to be more careful. You don’t know if she talked before they took her out,” he pointed out. “There’s nothing more for me to do at this time. I’m heading back.”

  “Understood.”

  “I’m also emailing off some info I’ve ferreted out that has to do with Stefan and Lawrence. Various contacts within and outside the States.” Archie paused. “What are you going to do with this information?”

  Dev smirked. “Burn their entire worlds down.”

  “Good. Call if you need me.” Archie disconnected the call.

  Dev was hoping he wouldn’t need Archie again, but he had a distinct feeling that he would.

  “Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. Sabrina was dead, and he wasn’t sure how he should feel about that. He hadn’t wanted her dead. At least not until she answered some questions for him, and he knew that sounded cold as hell, but the woman was a wretched human being. He opened his eyes, unsure of how to process the news of her murder. The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth, but as terrible as this sounded, it was good news—great news for Gabe and the family he was trying to build, because as long as Sabrina was out there, they wouldn’t be safe.

  What Archie suspected was probably true. Sabrina had reached out to the wrong person for help and in the process, they deemed her too much of a risk.

  His gaze returned to the iPad. Once it had been charged, it had been shockingly easy for it to be hacked and unlocked. After only a few moments of having access, Dev knew why Andrea had hidden the iPad.

  Andrea had screenshots of files of suspicious campaign donations and activity. The same kind of deposits that Dev had discovered himself, and now Dev’s suspicion of Stefan’s involvement, however limited in comparison to Lawrence, was confirmed.

  What was also on the iPad proved Rosie’s suspicions correct. Andrea had been having an affair with Stefan. There were copies of hotel receipts, detailed notes on the time spent with Stefan, some fairly graphic.

  There were . . . intimate pictures of Stefan.

  Ones that Dev could’ve gone his entire life without ever seeing. Either Andrea was planning on exposing Stefan or blackmailing him, and by some horrible twist of fate and misguided trust, she’d gone to Lawrence. Andrea had learned a de Vincent couldn’t be blackmailed.

  Or trusted.

  The truth was, if she had gone to her boyfriend, what had most likely happened to her would’ve also happened to Ross.

  Lawrence and Stefan would do anything and everything to get away with their crimes.

  Sickened, he placed the iPad in the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it. Something had to be done about Stefan, but like with Lawrence, Dev knew the man had just as many connections. It would be hard to make any charges stick let alone come to light for public scrutiny.

  The general public had truly no idea of how much money could really buy.

  All the information he was collecting would be turned over. Most if not all of the de Vincent involvement would be scrubbed, but even if it got out or if the others Archie had emailed him about implicated Stefan or Lawrence, it was a risk Dev was willing to take if it meant shutting down at least one bracket of an international issue.

  Rising from behind his desk, he shelved the Stefan issue for later. There was something else he must do. Leaving the office, he went in search of Gabe and found him in the kitchen, thankfully alone.

  Gabe was at the island, watching . . . water boil. He looked up as Dev walked into the kitchen. “Yo.”

  Stopping at the island, he frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “Gonna make some hard-boiled eggs.” He gestured at a small bowl, and Dev saw a half dozen eggs stacked in it. “Just waiting for the stupid water to boil.” He straightened. “Anyway, learned something interesting.”

  “From boiling water?”

  Gabe snorted. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but I have to. I’m proud of you. Well, I hope I’m right for being proud of you.”

  His brows lifted. “For what?”

  A small grin appeared on his brother’s face as Dev picked up a chocolate bar that was on the island. “Do you know where Nic is currently?”

  “I assume she is upstairs or at her own place?” He peeled back the wrapper.

  “You’d assume wrong.” Gabe grinned. “Nic is over at Rosie’s, because Rosie is getting ready for a date—a date with you.”

  Dev tensed. He was doing everything he could not to think about Rosie at the mome
nt. Not because he didn’t want to, but after dealing with what he had been looking at this morning, he wanted all thoughts of her nowhere near that shit.

  When he didn’t respond, Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “You do have a date with Rosie tonight, right?”

  Breaking off a piece of chocolate, he popped it into his mouth. “I do.”

  The water was starting to bubble. “And why are you going out on the date?”

  He chewed thoughtfully. “Why do most people go out on dates, Gabe?”

  “There’s lots of reasons, but you’re not most people.” Using tongs, he picked up the eggs and began to place them in the water. “So, when I heard you asked Rosie out, I was surprised, but then I remembered Lucian saying he saw you with her the night of the Masquerade.”

  He broke off another piece of chocolate. “He did.”

  Gabe stared at him. “And that’s all you have to say.”

  “Pretty much.” He ate the other piece of chocolate.

  His brother sighed. “Are you into Rosie, Dev? Or is this some kind of weird thing that’s going to end up pissing off Nic, which is then going to piss me off?”

  Tossing the chocolate bar back onto the island, he went over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “This isn’t something weird. I’m . . . I’m into Rosie. I like her. A lot.”

  When Dev turned around, Gabe was just standing there, staring at him with an egg gripped between the tongs. “What?”

  “I . . . I think that’s the first time in I don’t even know how long you’ve answered a question directly,” Gabe replied. “I’m shocked. I think I’m about to have a heart attack. Or maybe hell just froze over. Or—”

  “It’s not that shocking.” Dev came back to the island. “Rosie is . . .” He trailed off, unsure of how to describe her. “There’s something about her that I like and that’s all I have to say about that.”

  Gabe was still staring at him. “You’re . . . you’re smiling.”

  Was he? It took him a moment to realize that he was smiling.

  “You’re not anymore,” Gabe added dryly.

  Dev blinked and shook his head. “I was actually looking for you and not to discuss Rosie or my facial expressions.”

  Gabe laughed as the eggs knocked around inside the pan. “I’m all ears.”

  Dev knew he wouldn’t be laughing for very long. “As you know, I’ve had someone looking for Sabrina.”

  Everything about Gabe changed in an instant. His jaw hardened. “Any updates?”

  “Yes. She was found near the border,” Dev told him. “She’s dead.”

  “What?” Gabe planted his hands on the island as his chest rose with a deep breath. “You for real?”

  “Yes. It appears she was murdered,” he said. “That’s all I know. I’m sure it will hit the news soon enough.” He took a deep breath. “The only good news is that you don’t have to worry about her anymore. Not with Nikki or your son.”

  Gabe stared at him and several moments passed. “You’re right. I’m . . . I’m relieved, and I . . . That’s a shitty thing to be relieved about, isn’t it?”

  “No.” Dev was quick to correct him. “That woman was dangerous, Gabe, and maybe we would’ve gotten lucky and she would’ve left the county or maybe she would’ve come back. We don’t know, but at least with her, it’s over.”

  “It is.” Gabe kept staring at him. “Did you do it?”

  “What?” Dev pulled back.

  “Did you have her killed?” he asked point-blank.

  “No.” Dev held his gaze, not even surprised that his brother would’ve thought that about him. Which was, notably, messed up. “I sure as hell did not. That is not a lie, Gabe. I swear to you.”

  “Okay. . . .” Gabe turned off the burner. Several moments passed. “I’ve got to ask, Dev. I’ve got to ask this again. Why were you with that woman?”

  Dev lifted his gaze to his brother’s, and for the first time, he wanted to tell his brother why, but he couldn’t, because Gabe was the reason why, and he didn’t want to put that on his brother.

  So, all he said was “It’s complicated.”

  “I am still in a state of shock,” Nikki said from where she was perched on Rosie’s bed. Nikki finally looked like the woman Rosie knew, bruises gone and face bright. “I mean, I think this is a dream.”

  Rosie turned from her closet, a dress in each hand. “Yeah, well, you’re not as shocked as I am that Devlin wants to go out on a date.”

  “At Firestones, no less.” Sarah wandered into the bedroom, a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in another. Bree was behind her, towing a garment bag.

  Since Rosie had never been to Firestones or been on a date with Devlin de Vincent, this was a five-alarm, code-red situation.

  She’d already showered, shaved nearly everything, lotioned herself up, picked out the sexiest matching bra and panties she had just in case the date went very, very well, and had done most of her makeup. Problem was now she didn’t have a dress. Correction. She had lots of dresses, but none that she wanted to wear.

  “No, you guys don’t understand.” Bree laid the garment bag on the bed. “Nikki and I know the de Vincents.”

  “And we know Devlin, so him wanting to go on a date is breaking news,” Nikki chimed in as Bree sat beside her.

  “The man was engaged,” Sarah said, pouring a glass of wine. “I’m sure he’s been on plenty of dates.”

  Rosie exchanged a look with Nikki, thinking she probably knew that the relationship between Sabrina and Devlin wasn’t filled with dates, flowers, and happy kisses.

  “What do you think of this dress?” Rosie held up the one on the left.

  Bree lifted a dark eyebrow. “If you were reading tarot cards on Jackson Square, then sure.”

  “Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Sarah set the wineglass on the nightstand.

  “Nothing.” Bree held up her hands. “But Rosie is going to Firestones not Woodstock.”

  Nikki laughed. “Yeah, not that dress.”

  Sighing, she hung that one back up. “And this one?”

  “Are you going clubbing?” Sarah asked, sitting down in the chair in the corner with the wine bottle. “Because that little black dress is going to have your ass and your breasts out.”

  Rosie looked at the dress. “Nuh-uh.”

  “Actually, you wore that to a club in Alabama and you had to keep pulling it down,” Nikki pointed out.

  “Oh yeah. . . .” Turning around, she hung that back up and then went to her wineglass. Her stomach fluttered in a way it hadn’t in many years when she thought about her upcoming date. She didn’t think she was making a mistake by accepting his offer. If she had, she wouldn’t have said yes, but she was nervous, because . . . because she liked him and she, well, she wanted this to be the start of something.

  “Drink,” Sarah ordered from the corner. “You look like you need a drink.”

  That she did.

  Picking up her glass, she took a sip as she eyed the black garment bag behind Bree. “I’m hoping there’s a magic dress in there that won’t look like I’m attending a club or Woodstock.”

  “There is.” Bree smiled brightly and then reached behind her, picking up the bag. Hooking it on the closet door, she unzipped it. “I knew you weren’t going to be able to pick out a dress, so I brought this one over. I only wore it once since I haven’t had a good reason to wear it twice, but since we’re the same size, I think you can work this.”

  Sarah lowered the wine bottle. “Oh wow.”

  Deep hunter green material peeked out between the folds of the garment bag, and when Bree tugged the bag off completely, Rosie really thought her heart had stopped.

  “Now, that is a beautiful dress,” Nikki announced, eyes wide.

  Rosie clasped her hands together as she stared at the stunning dress. Beautiful, flattering color. Point one. It had quarter-length sleeves that were off the shoulder, but it looked like she could still wear a bra and not a strapless one. Point two. The neckline
was low cut, but it didn’t look like she would fall out of it. Point three. The waist was gathered high and the dress was fitted over the hips and thighs. Point four. It didn’t appear to be too short or too long, and that was point five. If it fit, that would be a point explosion.

  “Try it on,” Nikki ordered. “I’ve got to see this on you.”

  Grinning, Rosie pulled it off the hanger and quickly slipped it open. The dress fit perfectly.

  “I want to borrow that dress,” Nikki said.

  Bree grinned. “You can borrow it next.”

  “And me?” Sarah asked.

  “You, too.”

  Turning in front of the mirror, the fluttering in her stomach increased. The color brought out the green in her eyes and it really did work with her complexion.

  “That is beautiful,” Nikki said.

  “And your ass looks amazing,” Sarah added.

  She twisted sideways, checking out the back. It was cut low, and her ass did look pretty nice.

  This . . . this was definitely the dress.

  “You have those black stiletto booties still?” Bree asked, starting around her. “They would look perfect with that dress. Whoa.” Bree drew up short. “What in the hell happened to your closet?”

  Oh crap, she’d forgotten that the mess was visible. “Oh. Um, yeah, there was an issue with the drywall. It’s being fixed.” Slipping past Bree, she found the shoes in question. “Are these the ones you were talking about?”

  “Yep.” Bree turned from the closet. “Ah, look at the time. He’s going to be here soon, and we should probably go—Sarah, did you drink all that wine?”

  Sarah lifted the bottle. “Uh, no. There’s at least two glasses left.”

  “Really?” Bree sighed. “You owe me drinks tonight.”

  “You guys going out?” Rosie planted her hand on the wall as she slipped her foot into the shoe.

  “Yep. She’s my date.” Sarah grinned. “I hope she’s not expensive.”

  “Girl, I’m always expensive.”

  After promising to provide them with an update about the date as soon as she could, she said goodbye and tried to ignore the way the butterflies in her stomach and chest had turned into flesh-eating carnivores hell-bent on chewing their way out of her.

 

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