Crimes of the Heart (16 page)

A powerful surge of male possessiveness pulsed through him at the delicate flush sweeping across her cheeks. Hunger gnawed at him when he stared into her luminous violet eyes.

Nick coughed, apparently sensing the obvious tension. “Maybe you’d like us to keep Sean again tonight. After all, you’re still on your honeymoon.”

The knowing grin that slashed the other man’s face put Devon at ease. “Thanks, but we’ll take him home with us.”

“Cool. Like a real family, right, Dad?” Sean asked.

A frisson of panic bit at him, at the acceptance of his role in all of this. “Right, son, like a real family.”
God help us all.

***

Three days later, Devon jabbed at the keys on his laptop computer in his nearly barren library. Only the huge oak desk and burgundy leather chair had arrived on Monday. Everything else had been backordered. So here he sat in a shell of a room. That didn’t bother him so much; he adapted to most situations pretty well. It was the eerie stillness of the house that unnerved him.

“You should be grateful for the peace and quiet,” he muttered under his breath. While waiting for a business call to come through from Texas, he attempted to fix one of several contract bidding sheets he’d screwed up over the last few days.

Distractions had plagued him, intruding on his usually intense concentration when it came to his business. One major interference had gone back to work this morning. Jewel’s constant presence had shoved coherent thoughts right out the window. She hadn’t hovered or crowded him in any way, shape, or form.

“No, she was much more subtle and didn’t even know it.”

He’d given her free rein with decorating the place. If she could do half as good a job here as she’d done in her rental unit, Devon would be more than pleased.

But he hadn’t counted on straining to hear every little noise she’d made from her light footsteps overhead, to rustling sounds as she unpacked, to her muffled voice speaking on the phone or to one of the movers, to her lilting singing. Nor had he bargained on her haunting fragrance drifting to him at the oddest of times. Never mind the fresh wave of memories he conjured up of tasting her strawberry-flavored lips.

All of his musings rallied to the forefront in the daylight hours. In the shroud of night, he wrung every drop of passion out of both of them, driven beyond rhyme or reason. Like a man possessed he couldn’t get enough of her soft curves, gentle kisses, tender embrace, and sweet loving. Jewel had joked he was ruthless in the boardroom and relentless in the bedroom. She hadn’t been far off the mark.

Punching in a key, he stared wide-eyed as the screen went blank. “Damn!” Frantically, he tried to retrieve all his hard work to no avail. “That woman is going to ruin me yet. That’s if she hasn’t already.”

Dragging a hand through his hair, he blew out a breath. “Don’t blame her for your own mistakes.”

She couldn’t help it if he acted like a teenager every time she drew near. All of it rested on his reactions to the graceful sensuality of the lady. Without conscious thought she plucked his heartstrings while stirring his senses to fever pitch.
A rare but lethal combination.

Shaking his head in disgust, he threw up his hands, saying, “I swear, I’m doomed. Wrecked.”

Just then the cat leapt on to his desk, shaking his gray fur into a wild frenzy. His heart jolted, senses alert. Breathing a sigh of relief, he said, “Damn cat. You know, the next time you go surprising people you may not be so lucky.”

Curious gray feline eyes stared at him. Stretching his mouth open, he emitted a loud meow, and then pawed at the object he’d landed on.

“Hey, cut that out, that’s Sean’s baby book. Don’t you go and mess it up.” The scratching stopped, and then the animal cocked his head. “You’re a strange one, you know that? And I’m worse for talking to a cat, one who doesn’t even have a name.” Frowning, he asked, “Have we tried Morris yet?”

Two sharp meows rent the air.

Devon held up his hands. “All right, you don’t like that one. How about Garfield?”

He got a similar response as he did to the first suggestion.

Disgusted, he said, “I’m done for the day, okay? Sean can try a couple more tonight when he gets home.”

At the mention of his son’s name, the pawing began in earnest again. “I told you not to-” he cut himself off, wondering if this creature was trying to tell him something.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered. But a doubt nagged at him as he focused on the thick, cloth-covered book. Over the last few days he’d had a chance to look at all the pictures inside. A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the sometimes funny, sometimes poignant photos of his son from infancy, to toddler, to various school age shots, to the last one of him in his football uniform.

A ripple of alarm shot through his middle. “Football! Sean’s game.” He checked the gold watch on his wrist, and then cursed long and loud. Suddenly, he grew aware of the shadows cast across the gleaming hardwood flooring. “Five. Oh, man, am I in deep trouble.”

He rubbed his face, debating whether to stay for the call from Tate or leave now and catch the last half of the game. Oddly enough, the cat stopped tearing at the baby book and started licking its paw.

“You knew, didn’t you?” The cat meowed once. Devon grew concerned at the strange cat who had filled out considerably in the last week. “No, I am not going to believe you understand me. No way.”

With that he rose swiftly, and then rushed to beg forgiveness from his son and wife. “The hell with Tate. He can wait. They can’t.”

***

Wondering where in the world Devon was, Jewel drummed her fingers against the side of her Styrofoam cup. The hot chocolate had cooled long before now, although it still emitted a strong coca scent. Darting her gaze back and forth, she scanned the milling crowd, hoping to see her husband before half-time drew to a close and the second half began. With each passing minute, the heaviness increased in her middle until it felt like a lead weight filled her.

The hard bleacher beneath her did nothing to protect her from a gust of wind whipping up from the ground and twisting debris in its embrace. She shivered and dragged her hair from her eyes, mentally kicking herself for leaving her sweater at the salon as she dashed out in order to get to Sean’s game on time.

Out of her peripheral vision Bree’s hand snaked out, plucking the cup from her hand. “Do you mind, Jewel, you’re driving the rest of us a little crazy here.”

Leaning forward, so she included Nick and Sydney, she gave all three of her seatmates a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“He’ll show.”

“That’s if he can drag himself away from his computer,” Jewel muttered, her irritation growing at his continued absence. Too much longer and he’d miss it altogether. Dusk teased the sky, sending fingers of orange-gold bands to greet the horizon.

Inwardly, she ached for her son; she’d seen him walk the sidelines several times during the first half of the game, hoping to catch a glimpse of Devon. Right before Sean had left the field to go to the locker room, Jewel witnessed the disappointment clouding her son’s usually pleasant features. She should have borrowed someone’s cell phone, called her husband, and demand he come here.

Please don’t let him down, Devon
.

She sighed, long and loud. In just a short time Devon had rushed back in their lives and swept them into a whirlwind. Everything revolved around him. Not that he’d intentionally done that. It had been an automatic response from their father-starved son. And, if truth be told, from this Devon-hungry woman.

An ache gripped her as she wondered how long he’d include her in his life. Just once she yearned for him to only want her for herself and not for anything else: her family name, their son’s mother, or a piece of his vengeful dream.

A startling thought seized her. She stiffened, sitting up a little straighter. There was only one way she could possibly get her wish fulfilled. Grant his first, allow him access to all she knew about her father, and then let him achieve his ultimate goal. Without the doubts of that time wedged between them he would finally see her for who she was now. But at what price?

Could she gamble her whole future away? As long as Devon still searched for answers then she’d be assured of his presence. But once he learned the truth everything changed, leaving her no guarantees.

Swallowing hard, Jewel wondered if dismantling the past, making peace with it, would be enough in order to move them forward to a life together. Or in the end would she be alone?

Swiftly, she glanced to her friend. Bree, talking softly with a smiling Nick, seemed oblivious to the returning football fans crowding around. Watching the intimate exchange convinced Jewel that betting was well worth the effort. Hadn’t overcoming the difficulties of their pasts forged a stronger, lasting bond between Nick and Bree? The least Jewel could do was have the courage to try with Devon.

“Hey, girlfriend, thanks for saving me a seat,” Tessa plopped down beside her, her curly red hair snared in a clip at her neck.

Smiling fondly at her other business partner, Jewel asked, “Did you get a rush just before closing?”

Shooting her a sideways, deep green-eyed look, Tessa muttered, “Don’t we always?”

“Sorry I left you holding the bag like that.”

Tessa interrupted with a sound from the back of her throat, part snort, part tusk. “Don’t sweat it. After all, I still owe you for rescuing me from my granny that time she found out about the night we all went out to see the male dancers. If it wasn’t for you I’d still be hearing about it.” She rolled her eyes.

Whispering conspiratorially, Jewel pointed out, “We had fun though, didn’t we?”

Tessa giggled. “Boy, did we ever.” She elbowed Jewel in the ribs, saying, “Speaking of fun, here comes some.”

Snapping to attention, she spied Devon weaving his way through the throng of people. The dying rays of the sun lit the mahogany highlights in his rich brown hair. The breath caught in her lungs and her heart beat a wild tempo. Lord, he could always make her aware of him and of herself as a woman.

Along with the heady sensations came a wave of relief.
He’s here.
He must have sensed her staring; he looked up then, giving her a shrug and a self-deprecating smile. In that moment, she realized how chagrined he was at his tardiness.

In a white shirt with its cuffs rolled up and black jeans, holding his black leather jacket, he climbed the bleacher steps, ignoring blatant stares and sly remarks. But she couldn’t. Something inside her tugged in empathy, releasing the lingering distress at his forgetting his son’s game
. He’s here now. That’s all that’s important.

With each movement his muscles bunched and flexed, reminding her of how they felt beneath her questing hands as they made love.
Contained power.

Watching him closely as he made his way to her, she scanned him slowly, taking in the man he’d become. The ruthless quality he’d adopted didn’t show itself today. A softer, approachable stance took priority. Concern and a wealth of regret edged his gaze as it ensnared hers.

“I’ll just scoot over so you two can sit together,” Tessa murmured before she slid down a foot. “Hey, Tex, how you doing?”

Devon grinned at the nickname. “Late, that’s how I’m doing.” He nodded in greeting to the rest of her companions.

Settling beside Jewel, he blew out a breath. The clean male scent of him robbed her of speech. The heat of his body warmed her to her toes. Shifting toward her, his thigh pressed hers and she had all she could do not to visibly quiver. He leaned forward, brushing shoulders. She clamped down on the gasp that nearly tore from her mouth at the arrow of desire that shot through her at the innocent touch.

“I’m sorry, dollface. There’s no excuse for my not being here on time.” Disgust filled his tone.

“You’re here now.”

He turned to face her, catching her off guard. Apparently reading something in her expression, he said, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Why, because you can’t give me yours?” she asked gently, absently noticing the bruise on his forehead had faded to a greenish yellow.

His lips twisted in a grimace. “That’s about right.”

Another strong blast of autumn air rushed by. Tendrils of her black hair whipped across her face. Jewel lifted a hand to yank them back into place. Devon reached up before she could get there first. His work-roughened skin skimmed hers in a caress.

Jerking her gaze to his, she watched the lush green darken in an instant and heard the catch in his breath. His lids grew heavy, causing a curl of anticipation to form low and deep in her abdomen.

Tenderly, he smoothed back her hair, stroking his knuckles over her cheek. Clearing his throat, he said, “It will take us even more time tonight to brush all the tangles out.”

Liquid fire surged through her blood at his implied remarks. Over the last two nights, with candles burning, she’d sat at her dresser while he’d used her mother’s antique silver grooming set to brush her hair. It had started out harmless enough when he’d come upon her in her silky robe. But, in the end, he’d slid the cool fabric over her shoulders and let it pool all around her as he took over the duties, baring her to his sight. Locking gazes with her reflection, he’d turned it into one of the most sensual experiences she’d ever partaken in.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. She moistened her parched lips with the tip of her tongue. He dropped his stare to her mouth, seemingly mesmerized by her actions. His ragged breaths told their own story.

“There’s Sean,” Sydney cried out, clapping her hands and gaining Jewel’s attention.

She whirled to the field, watching the young players pour onto the muddy grass. Spotting her son, her heart twisted. With his head down, his chin nearly hit his small chest.

Dropping his hand back into his lap, Devon focused on their son. He wrapped his jacket around her. “I’m going to see if I can talk to him before the second half starts, all right?” He pressed a quick, hard kiss on her slightly parted lips, and then rose.