Crimes of the Heart (8 page)

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Authors: Laurie Leclair

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Crimes of the Heart
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Dragging in a deep, shaky breath, she turned her head to look out the passenger window. Guardrails and trees whizzed by in a blur. “Do you really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

Peeking at him over her shoulder, she said, “Sean.”

He laughed, catching her by surprise. “Well, why do you think I went through with it? Listen, dollface, I don’t know about you but it certainly takes a heck of a lot longer to jump into marriage than one week.”

Easing back into her seat, she marveled at this side of him, the Devon she’d known so long ago. Playing along, she pointed out, “If you remember correctly, it took us months to decide the first time.”

“For our son’s sake I’m glad we did. At least he wasn’t born a bastard.”

And that’s so important to you.
“Nobody ever knew about our secret marriage except us, Devon.”

A muscle twitched along his clenched jaw. “That’s all about to change.”

Alarmed, she asked, “How so?”

“The papers. I made sure the announcement explained that it was a renewal of vows and I added our original wedding date.” He shrugged stiffly. “Reverend Duffy and his wife will back it up and I’ve given Gil a copy of the first license.”

“You think of everything.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“I try.” His was equally laced with mockery. Blowing out a breath, he said, “It’s for Sean’s well-being. I don’t want him to go through what I did, at least not any more. All right, I admit, I’m joining the game a little behind schedule, but it’s not too late to fix things for him.”

How can I argue with him when he’s only trying to help Sean?
In the back of her mind, she allowed a doubt to form.
Was he
only
concerned about Sean?
Seeing the two of them together Jewel had witnessed the adoration beaming from both her son and her husband. There was no denying the instant bond they had formed.

But there’s something else involved, his family’s redemption. Please don’t let Sean find out. Don’t let Devon hurt our son.

Chasing the disturbing thought aside, she focused on the positive aspect of what he’d done. She’d deal with the rest if or when the time came.

Tentatively, she reached over and touched the back of his hand as it rested on his thigh. “Thank you,” she choked out, feeling the huge burden of raising a child alone lifted from her spirit; she knew whatever happened between them, Devon would never abandon his own flesh and blood. Look what he was still trying to do for his dead father.

Turning his large hand over, he clasped hers gently, engulfing hers in heat and tenderness. “He’s a great kid.”

The wealth of emotion coloring his declaration told her more than his simple words did. She covered her own swell of overwhelming feelings, by saying, “Of course he is. He looks like you and acts like me, what’s not great about that?”

He chuckled, long and hearty, warming the wintry regions in her core. Lacing his fingers through hers, he tightened his hold. Matching invisible pressure squeezed her heart.
Don’t let me fall for this guy,
she prayed while memorizing every endearing laugh line on his handsome face. Her fingers itched to touch the angles and planes of his forehead, high cheekbones, and firm jaw.

Smiling fondly, Devon glanced at his bride. He lingered over the delicate features and porcelain complexion. Thankfully she’d finally got her color back.
The frightened stony expression from earlier was absent. In its place he noted the soft feminine glow. And her violet eyes sparkled in mischievous delight.

Her lush lips drew his attention now. Mentally berating himself for not taking advantage of sealing the vows with a full-blown kiss, he wondered how she’d taste.

Dragging his thoughts away from that erotic dream and back to the road, he relished the easy silence. Up until they talked he’d endure the strained atmosphere, suffered the tantalizing wafts of her haunting rose perfume. In all that time he’d conjured up ways to diffuse the building tenseness.

So what if she’d nearly made a fool out of me again, the point I have to remember is, for whatever reason, she didn’t turn her back on this poor boy a second time
.

With her soft hand still in his, she leaned her head back and sighed.

“Tired?”

From under her thick, dark lashes, her hooded eyes found his. A teasing smile played around her lips. “Now, what would make you think that? Some guy just happened to climb up my trellis and into my room in the middle of the night, then…” she trailed off.

Curiosity tugged at him. “Then what?”

She giggled. “You really can’t remember, can you?”

Sheepishly, he shrugged. “I’m still trying. How ’bout you help me fill in a couple sketchy places?”

Red crept into her cheeks. “No way. You figure it out for yourself.”

His middle clenched at the potent desire swirling between them now.
Lord, what did I do?
She shifted her legs, drawing his attention downward. Sitting, her skirt was hiked up, revealing long, luscious expanses of her legs. Absently, he wondered if she wore stockings or pantyhose. Turning back to the highway, he tried to concentrate on the traffic. But his mind wandered.
Please let it be stockings…and a garter belt.
He groaned inwardly as a sexy picture of Jewel dressed in little bits of lingerie sprang before him.

The sensation of touching soft, round flesh last night intruded. Suddenly, it came back to him. “You weren’t wearing any panties.”

She stilled, and then yanked her hand away from his. A shaft of bereavement sliced through him at the loss. A quick glimpse and he noticed the crimson dots of color high on her cheeks.

“Ah…just let me ask you something. Call it a warning to my libido.” He dropped his gaze to her hips and a knot formed in his throat. Swallowing hard, he asked, “Do you make a habit of not wearing panties?”

She released a puff of air. Was it laughter or indignation? “You expect me to answer that?”

Trying to make light of it, he said, “Some people might say it’s a husband’s right to know.”

A bead of sweat formed on his brow as the silence stretched.
And I thought it was bad
before
we started talking.
To break the tension, he joked, “I’d tell you if you asked me.”

A strangled giggle escaped her lips. “All right, I’ll tell if you’ll tell, how’s that?”

A whoosh of heat blazed through his bloodstream. “Most days I do.” Capturing her stare, he asked, “Now it’s your turn, dollface.”

Seconds ticked by. “Hardly ever,” she whispered hoarsely, sending him into a tailspin.

 

***

 

Hours later, Devon paced the cozy living area of the Vermont bed and breakfast room he’d reserved for their short honeymoon. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting the only light in the small space. The best bottle of champagne the inn had to offer sat nestled in a bucket of ice on an antique cherry table near a stuffed armchair.

The cold shower he’d taken ten minutes ago hadn’t quieted his passion one bit. He secured the knot on the white towel that hung around his waist, and then used a smaller hand towel to scrub his damp hair.

Her ‘hardly ever’ repeated in his mind, sending another flare of scorching fire through his veins. Every part of his body throbbed with the intimate knowledge. Was she wearing any today?

He clamped down on another groan that yearned to escape him. The suppressed sound rumbled in his chest.

Running water coming from the direction of the bedroom rewarded him with the impression of Jewel sinking into a tub full of bubbles.

Cursing under his breath, he wondered how he’d survive until she came out. “You just can’t jump on her, Marshall. Try some finesse, some…romance,” he said slowly, recalling Sean’s list.

With that thought, he turned to the cherry coffee table in front of the French sofa. The silver wrapped package shone brightly in the glow of the nearby firelight. “Well, that’s a start,” he muttered.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how he could close the gap on twelve years of distance. Physically, he didn’t doubt they’d connect. Somehow, when he held her in the past, everything else faded away and only she and he existed. But, he sensed despite how wonderful making love to her again would be, there would always be something missing, an emptiness.A dream unfulfilled. That hollow part of him ached now; he’d never allowed himself to be so vulnerable with her again.

“What might have been?” he asked softly. Impressions swirled to life, happy images of Sean, Jewel, and him. “We could have had so much. We could have
loved
so much.” But not now, not with all that had transpired between our families.
With us
. It’s too late.

He tried to bury the heartwarming pictures, but he failed to do so. In fact, they came stronger and faster now, tossing darts of exquisite joy clear through his soul. “Stop teasing me,” he muttered.

“Devon?”

Jerking to the sound of her sweet voice, he stilled. Shimmering lavender silk hugged her curves, outlining every delicious inch of her body. He gulped in a breath as he scanned the length of her.
She’s definitely not wearing a stitch under that garment.

Yanking his intent inspection from the way the large, twin points hardened under his stare, he sought her face. Radiant. The steam from her bath had turned her cheeks a rosy hue. Wisps of her glossy, black hair caressed her neck and ears. And her eyes held a dark, sultry quality that made his blood burn with need.

A deeper red invaded her features as she grabbed the two ends of her matching robe and tied it closed. If she thought it would adequately cover her, or even halt his potent desire, she was mistaken.

Her gaze swept over him, scorching the bare skin on his chest with just one look. His grip on the small towel tightened.

“Ah…did you say something a moment ago?”

As if in a daze, he answered, “I was just talking to myself. God, you’re beautiful.” Even if he wanted to he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

A tremulous smile tugged on her lips and she refused to be captured by his stare. “Oh, it’s just the wedding gift Bree and Tessa gave me, that’s all?”

Intrigued by this shy side of her, he probed further. “You’re business partners, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Remind me to thank them. But, I really did mean it when I said
you’re
beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say things just to make me feel better about all this. I know why we’re here.”

A knot in his middle clenched. He waved a hand to encompass the room. “Are you talking about the honeymoon or us?”

Hugging herself, she said, “Both, I guess.”

“Well, I’m glad you have the answers, because I sure the hell don’t. So, why don’t you let me in on it?” Devon berated himself for the sudden burst of temper, but sensed his anger had to do with a combination of frustration and her total lack of believing him.

Slowly, she moved toward the sofa. Once there, she sank on to the flowered cushion as if her knees could no longer hold her. “Why are you mad at me?”

Unable to keep still a moment more, he resumed pacing the room while clutching the small towel. “Call me crazy, but when I say something nice to you I’d like for it not to be thrown back at me.”

She sighed, long and loud. “Oh, Devon, it’s me, not you.” Closing her eyes, she continued, “No one has said that to me in a very long time, if ever, without some kind of hidden agenda.”

Halting, he twisted to her, his heart squeezing at the echo of sadness strumming in her voice. Gently, he pointed out, “I don’t say things I don’t mean. I never have and I never will.”

Focusing on him once again, she gave him a weak smile. He noted the moisture clinging to her lashes. A dagger-like pain sliced through his core. “Oh, dollface.”
I should have been here to protect you.

Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind, all right? I’ll try to remember that you kept that part of who you were.”

“I kept it all,” he said quietly.

“You hide it well then.”

Too well,
he heard the unspoken words. Blowing out a hot breath, he made his way around the furniture, and then took a seat beside her. She withdrew, tucking herself in a corner of the sofa. But not before he caught a whiff of her perfumed body. A coil tightened low in his belly.

Leaning forward, he nudged the present. “I got you a wedding gift. Would you like to open it?”

Her whole face lit up, allowing him to recall how thrilled she’d always been at receiving surprises from him. Even the simplest tokens of affection, the only ones he’d been able to afford, had brought joy to her. “I’d love to.”

In no time at all she’d ripped off the big silver bow and began tearing at the wrappings. The rustling sound of the paper sliced the air. When she lifted the lid to the deep white box and brushed aside the tissue, she gasped. “My mother’s hair brush, comb, and tray set.” Wonder colored her words.

“I knew how much it meant to you. And you wouldn’t accept it otherwise.” He shrugged as emotion formed a lump in his throat.

Lovingly, she traced the scrolled design on the back of the brush. “I used to sit for hours while she fixed her hair.” She chuckled, and then turned to him. “I guess that’s where my love of hairdressing all began. But back then whenever I attempted to emulate her style, I always ended up with a rat’s nest sitting on my head.”

Joining in her laughter, Devon’s heart rejoiced at the sweet music. From what his son had told him over the last week whenever he came to help with the remodeling, Devon had learned Jewel seldom even smiled. Now he sensed she’d purposely concealed that warm, caring young lady she had been.

“You’ll accept it then?”

Almost shyly, she said, “Thank you.” A moment later she stretched toward him, depositing a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek. It only made him long for more.

Continuing to stroke the antique set in awe, she said, “You had it cleaned.”

Refusing to tell her he’d been the one to spend the long hours of the nights removing the tarnish until it gleamed, while thoughts of her danced in his head, he simply nodded.

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