The Devil She Knows (7 page)

“Dev left town a few days later. I had no idea he was back until he walked into my bedroom this morning carrying a mug of coffee.”

Tatum asked the logical question. “Did he know who you were?”

Willow nodded.

“That bastard.”

Part of her wanted to let Tatum keep her poor opinion of Dev. It would be easy to bask in the unqualified support of her friend. But it wouldn’t be fair.

“He gave me several opportunities to stop things, but I didn’t.
I
was the one who insisted on the masks. He tried to take his off. He had to know the moment I saw his face that I’d recognize him. He wasn’t deliberately trying to hide who he was from me...I did that all on my own. He even told me his name. We just called him something else when he lived here before.”

The dark slash of Tatum’s eyebrow winged up into a silent question.

“Devlin Warwick. Everyone called him Wick. Wicked Wick.”

“Oh, yeah, that totally fits.”

“Apparently he hates it and goes by Dev now. I didn’t remember his full name until this morning.”

This time the other eyebrow joined the first, Tatum studying her with a quizzical expression that made Willow fight the need to squirm.

“You’re defending him an awful lot.”

Willow made a harsh sound in the back of her throat. “I’m not defending him. I’m taking responsibility for my own actions and decisions. I’d like to let him take all the blame, but that wouldn’t be fair. I made a decision—a bad one—and now I’ll have to deal with the consequences. Everyone in town is going to know what I did.”

“There are worse things.”

“Sure, although at the moment I’m having trouble thinking of any.”

Hope burst through the back door and skidded to a halt, half in and half out of Willow’s workroom. Her quick eyes catalogued Tatum and the open computer, then scoured Willow’s face for clues to what her response needed to be—alcohol, anger, indignation, a shotgun...they were all viable options, depending.

Willow saved her the trouble of guessing. “I’m fine. Angry, sure, but not at Dev.”

Tatum snorted, doing a poor job at smothering the sound.

“Okay, I’m slightly angry with Dev. I’m more upset with myself. And whoever thought it appropriate to splash my business all over the internet and then announce it to the entire town.”

Had the person who’d taken the pictures been lurking outside her house, waiting? Or had they chanced on a moment of opportunity?

A nasty thought blasted through Willow’s brain. Had Dev set the whole thing up? Maybe he’d had someone there waiting. She shook her head, dismissing the idea almost as soon as it surfaced.

What did he have to gain by this? If he’d been out for a little humiliating revenge he’d gotten it already. Just thinking about how inappropriate and shameless she’d been with him last night...

Besides, he’d told her that he hadn’t intended to seduce her, and for some reason she believed him. Or maybe she just wanted to. Either way, she couldn’t see an angle.

“Who would do something like this? And why?” Hope asked, her voice ringing with an indignation that Willow appreciated. It was nice to know she could count on her friends.

“That’s a great question. They must have been right in front of your house.” Tatum crossed her arms beneath her breasts and narrowed her eyes to slits.

Tatum’s words drew Willow’s eyes back to the screen and the photographs she’d tried to ignore. Her friend was right, they’d been taken from in front of her house, but that wasn’t what kept her staring.

The first couple of pictures showed Dev exiting. Willow could practically hear the reverberation from the slammed door, his stiff shoulders and thunderous expression easy to interpret.

What had her tongue licking across suddenly dry lips was the way the black dress shirt he’d been wearing at the party hung loose and open, showing the dented planes of his abs. The gray tie trailed across his shoulders. Willow wanted to reach through the screen and run her hands across his silky skin.

The next photograph had his back turned, the tip of a red horn clearly visible sticking out from the back pocket of his slacks. Even without the mask, he was clearly dangerous enough to be a devil.

More dangerous than he’d been last night.

And still, Willow couldn’t look away. She knew the sinuous twist of muscles hidden beneath the disarrayed clothing. She knew what he could do with those powerful legs and talented hands. Her body hummed with the memories, begging her to forget everything and find him for a repeat performance.

In the last photograph, Dev’s head was turned in profile. He stared up at the covered windows of her bedroom. The expression on his face was partially obscured, but that didn’t prevent her body from reacting. She’d seen it last night when he pushed deep inside her—predatory, dangerous, promising and sensual.

Devlin Warwick wasn’t finished with her yet. He’d said as much. And she wasn’t exactly sure what to think about that. Her body buzzed with anticipation. Her brain screamed a warning.

“Willow!”

“What?” She jerked her eyes away from the computer screen and up to Hope and Tatum. Both of her friends stared at her expectantly. Guilt heated her skin. Willow sighed with barely checked exasperation.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to ignore him.”

Tatum shook her head, fighting a smile that she couldn’t quite keep from tugging at the corners of her mouth. Willow appreciated the effort even if her friend failed miserably.

“Not about Dev, about the blog post.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.”

“I don’t know. What is there to do?”

Nothing. She’d witnessed enough gossip to realize that a public search for whoever had invaded her privacy would only keep the story on everyone’s tongues longer. Better to ignore it and hope everyone moved on to juicier tales soon.

She definitely had no intention of giving them any more fodder.

5

D
EV WAS STILL
pissed that she’d kicked him out. Although it was exactly what he’d expected her to do.

It was his problem that he’d hoped she wouldn’t.

He couldn’t get rid of the residual buzz of anger mixed with the constant hum of need. Not even being upset with her could stop him from wanting her again.

It had always been that way for him with Willow. The moment he’d seen her, all long, tanned legs and shy, hesitant smile, his body had gone haywire.

He hadn’t known what to do with his response. She was clearly off-limits—not one of the rough and outrageous girls he usually took to bed. She’d been young, and until last night he’d assumed innocent.

Although that revelation wouldn’t have changed anything.

Back then, Willow had been too good for him and he’d at least been coherent enough to realize it.

Keeping his hands off her was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Aside from walking away from her...

Spinning over the past was getting him nowhere. He hadn’t come to Sweetheart for Willow or anyone else. He’d come for himself. For closure. For a bit of friendly retribution.

He needed to drag his focus back to the point of this little venture. He had his first meeting with the head of the resort consortium, Brett Newcomb, tomorrow morning. So, to keep his head from spiraling back to the lightning-quick memories of Willow’s body sliding against his, he’d spent most of the day burning off energy in his grandmother’s back garden. Trying to clear out the debris left over from summer was a better use of his time. Physical labor would leave his body drained and his mind too tired to think.

Around five his stomach had begun to protest his attempt to subsist on nothing but Coke and handfuls of peanut M&M’s. Since there wasn’t much in the house by way of food, he decided to head to the diner in town for something real. He could practically taste the burst of a greasy hamburger across his tongue.

Dev grabbed a shower, and threw on a clean pair of jeans and a flannel button-down. Tossing the keys in his hand once and snatching them out of the air, he cranked the truck and enjoyed the rumble of the powerful engine.

He slid into a parking spot outside the diner. It was busier than he’d expected at six on a Sunday evening. Walking through the front door, he enjoyed the warmth and scent of fried food that greeted him.

Until he realized that every person in the place had turned to stare at him. And not with curiosity, but with hard-eyed anger. He’d only been in town a day, what could he have done already?

The memory of pale blue eyes, glazed with the pleasure of release flashed across his mind. A blast of cold that had nothing to do with the dropping temperatures outside shot up his spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. She hadn’t wasted time in telling everyone all about his transgressions.

Dev’s first instinct was to turn around and leave, but he would not give them what they wanted. He wasn’t going to let these people force him out of anywhere, least of all a damn diner. As much as they might want to, they couldn’t control where he ate.

Clenching his hands into fists, Dev let a lazy scowl sweep above the crowd, ignoring everyone. He spotted an empty table wedged into the back of the room and headed for it. He contemplated putting his back to the room and everyone in it, but his spine tightened at the idea of leaving himself open and vulnerable. Instead, he settled with his back to the wall.

Slowly, everyone returned to their own conversations and dinners. The waitress came over and he placed his order.

Eating alone had never bothered him before. Not even when surrounded by other people. Tonight, it was oppressively obvious that he wasn’t just alone, but being purposely ignored. Greetings rose above the din as patrons floated in and out. People leaned across the spaces between tables joining together in conversations he had no part in. Kids darted around, laughing and snatching French fries.

It bothered him, although he knew it shouldn’t. These people could think whatever they wanted about him. They were wrong. And that was their problem, not his.

He munched on his burger and contemplated calling his project manager on the Cascade Properties job to check in on their progress when the bell above the door chimed again. A swirl of cool air shot through the diner, sending chilly fingers across his skin and bringing with it a scent he would never forget—honeysuckle, sandalwood and something altogether innocent. A scent that only belonged to one woman.

Looking up from his phone, Dev found Willow standing in the doorway, her gaze trained completely on him. Everyone had fallen silent again. They stared, but this time it was in Willow’s direction, and instead of barely suppressed anger they were full of pity.

That bothered Dev, but he had no idea why.

Heat flamed up Willow’s face, touching her cheeks. Instead of ducking to hide the reaction, her jaw tightened. Her eyes glittered with determination and challenge. Her lips pulled into a forced smile that she spread around liberally.

After a few tense moments, she began to weave through the tables, heading straight for him. Without asking, she pulled out the chair opposite him and slipped gracefully into it.

A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Every single eye was trained on them. Guests had come for dinner, but apparently were thrilled with the idea of getting a free show out of the deal, as well.

While everyone else watched them, Dev watched
her.
And waited. Whatever Willow wanted, the grim expression on her face told him he wasn’t going to enjoy it.

“I’m sorry.”

Those were not the words he’d expected to fall from her lush, pink, enchantingly kissable lips.

Tilting his head to the side, Dev considered her for several moments. Was she apologizing for kicking him out? For her anger? For believing the worst of him? There were so many options. “For what?”

“For the blog.”

Okay, now he was confused. Not only did he have no idea what she was talking about, but it wasn’t even on his list. Why would he care what some bored housewife posted on the internet? What could that possibly have to do with him?

“You don’t know.” Willow’s flat voice sent a tingle that tightened his scalp with apprehension.

Her face screwed up and she squinched her eyes closed for several seconds. Blowing out a long, slow breath, she opened them again.

“Someone posted pictures of you leaving my house this morning online and then emailed the link to a huge list of people.”

He blinked, trying to figure out what the problem was. Who cared?

“You were half naked.”

Heat crept up Willow’s pale skin. Oh, she cared.

The anger he’d been fighting all day slammed back through his body, turning his muscles rigid. Leaning across the table, he ground out, “Are you more embarrassed that you slept with me or that the whole town knows about it?”

Her eyes widened. A jumble of emotions chased across her pale blue eyes—shock, hurt, chagrin and finally fury. Her eyes glittered like broken glass, cutting through him just as easily.

He regretted the words almost as soon as they’d left his mouth. What was it about this woman that drove him to the brink and then shoved him straight off the cliff of decent behavior?

But he refused to take the words back. There might have been a better way to couch the question, but it was still valid. What bothered her more? That she’d broken her own rules and let him in or that everyone now had proof that she wasn’t as perfect as she liked to pretend?

Her body tightened, her hands flattening on the table as she prepared to stand up. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have bothered to come tell you.”

Before she could move, Dev’s hand shot across the table. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, holding on and anchoring her in place.

Her gasp was soft enough that it was almost drowned out by the clatter around them, but he heard it. And watched as her pupils dilated and her jaw set against the reaction she didn’t want, but couldn’t control any more than he apparently could.

“Why did you?”

“Because I thought you should know. I have no idea who posted the pictures, but it wasn’t because they were being nice. I’m hoping it was nothing more than a cruel joke, but who knows?”