In His Shadow (Tangled Ivy Book 1)

by Tiffany Snow

  “I have no idea,” I said with a tired sigh. “He liked me, I guess. I was the one always sent to his house. But that’s all. It’s not as if I was related to him or something.” Pushing aside Devon’s hand, I sat up, holding my shirt together with one hand. I noticed a hypodermic needle on the table next to the couch and wondered what Devon had given me, not that I was complaining. Bruises aside, I felt better than I had before.

  The whole Mr. Galler thing was strange. “You know,” I said, “the men who tried to rob the bank, they wanted into his safe deposit box.”

  “They must be looking for something,” Devon said, “and think you have it.”

  I shrugged, pushing my hair back from my face with my free hand. “All I have from Mr. Galler is a pendant that he gave me the night he died.”

  Devon said nothing and, after a moment, I glanced up at him. He was looking at me as though I were an idiot.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Mr. Galler gave you something—the night he was killed—and it didn’t occur to you that it might be exactly what they’re looking for?” Besides looking at me like I was an idiot, he also looked angry.

  “But it’s nothing!” I said, stung. “It’s just a pendant. See?” My necklace had twisted, the heavy pendant I’d attached to the chain this morning now hung down my back. I tugged it around, showing it to Devon.

  Rather than just looking at it, Devon reached up and undid the clasp for the chain and dumped the pendant into his palm.

  “So this is what everyone’s after,” he murmured.

  I was confused. “Who? Do you know who those guys were? Why were you following them?”

  Devon spoke while still scrutinizing the pendant. “I’m trying to locate a man. A very dangerous man. The men who took you had just been to Galler’s home. The man I’m looking for is searching for this.”

  “Wait,” I said. “You knew they came from Mr. Galler’s home? How? Did you know him?”

  Now he looked at me.

  “No,” he said shortly. “But I suspected what they did. That you knew something, had access to something.” He fisted his hand around the pendant. “This should help.”

  Devon’s words took a moment to sink in and I gaped at him, dismay and shock rippling through me. At last, I found my voice. “You mean all of this,” I waved my hand to indicate him and me, “was a setup? To get that?” I pointed to the pendant in his hand.

  “Much easier than attempting to rob the bank,” he said, matter-of-fact.

  I was horrified. I’d been so, so stupid. I’d thought Devon and I’d had a connection, that there was something between us, something I’d never felt with anyone before. I’d let him touch me, kiss me, have sex with me—

  Abruptly, I felt like I would be sick. Embarrassed mortification crawled over my skin.

  Devon must’ve realized this revelation wasn’t going over well with me because he said, “Not that it wasn’t pleasurable.” Then his lips tipped up in a half smile.

  I swung my hand without thinking, rage spiking hard. But Devon’s reflexes were lightning fast and he grabbed my wrist before my palm could make contact with his cheek. His eyes were narrowed shards of ice, the smile wiped from his face as our gazes locked.

  “Let me go, you sonofabitch,” I said through gritted teeth. His hold on me was just this side of painful. I tried, and failed, to pull my arm away.

  But he didn’t let go. Instead, he slowly pushed my arm down and away from his face, overwhelming my strength with his. Then he leaned over me until we were mere inches apart.

  “Don’t try that again,” he said, and the menace in his voice and danger in his eyes made my insides quake.

  As soon as he let me go, I was up and rushing for the door, my vision blurred with the tears swimming in my eyes. I refused to cry in front of him. I just wanted to go home and lick my wounds in private. How could I have been so gullible?

  Clutching my shirt closed with one hand, I laid the other on the doorknob and pulled open the door a scant two inches, only to have it slammed shut by Devon’s palm.

  He stood behind me, so close I could feel the heat of his body as he leaned his weight on his hand to keep the door closed.

  The warmth of his breath fanned my cheek. I could barely breathe, my heart pounding from fear and anger.

  “You walk out that door,” Devon said in my ear, “and you won’t last a day.”

  “You can’t possibly think I’d stay here?” My voice was barely more than a pained whisper, but I was hurting too much to care what I sounded like.

  “They know who you are and they’ve already attacked you twice,” Devon said. “If I hadn’t been there tonight, they’d have succeeded.”

  I was caught, caught between what seemed to be two equally dangerous sides. Devon had lied to me and used me. The taste of that was bitter in my throat. But he’d saved me, kept me from bodily harm, though I wasn’t so sure about the psychological and emotional damage he’d wrought.

  Devon’s hands moved to settle on my shoulders, which he may have meant to be comforting, but I felt too narrow, my bones too fragile beneath his palms. His strength and size controlled me and the force of his will overpowered mine.

  I felt him brush my ponytail aside, then the soft touch of his lips to my skin at the place where my neck met my shoulder.

  “Does this feel like a setup to you?”

  I was stiff under his touch as he gripped my upper arms, slowly drawing the ruined fabric of my blouse down and exposing more of my skin to his mouth. He pulled my hand from its death grip on the door handle. Devon’s touch was an addiction I couldn’t tear myself away from. A knot of bitter anger still burned in my belly, but I could no more stop my body’s reaction to him than I could have resisted the drug I’d been given tonight.

  Cooler air touched my stomach and I realized Devon had removed my blouse completely, the fabric falling from my wrists to land in a soft brush of silk on the floor.

  His hands were unhurried, giving me plenty of opportunity to try to stop him, but I did nothing when he unclasped my bra, letting it slide down my arms to the floor as well. Devon’s palms cupped my breasts and I drew in a lungful of air with a gasp. His mouth sucked lightly at my neck and my head lolled back to rest against his shoulder.

  The buzzing of my cell phone in my pants pocket tore my attention away from what Devon was doing to me. It had to be Logan, no doubt worried about me and where I’d disappeared to.

  Devon didn’t pause in kissing or caressing me as I fished the phone out and answered.

  “Hello?” The greeting was breathier than my normal voice.

  “Ivy! Where the hell are you?” Logan’s voice penetrated the haze of desire Devon had wrapped around me and I pried my eyes open.

  “Sorry,” I said, searching for a white lie about what had happened with Steve. “I decided to get some air, then ran into Devon.”

  “You left your coat, and your purse is still in my car,” Logan said. “Jesus, Ivy, you’re not usually this inconsiderate. I mean, I don’t care if you want to ditch me for a dude, but you could have at least mentioned it.” His irritation made me feel guilty, even though I knew it wasn’t my fault.

  Devon suddenly turned me to face him, bracing my back against the chilled wooden door, then his lips were closing over my nipple. The wet heat of his tongue sent a sharp flash of arousal through me. My eyes slammed shut and my free hand clasped him to me, my fingers buried in his hair.

  “Sorry . . . Logan,” was all I could manage.

  “What’s the matter?” Logan asked suspiciously. “Are you all right?”

  I couldn’t reply, my thoughts incoherent as Devon’s mouth skated upward to cover mine. Our tongues slid together and I could feel the hard press of his erection against my abdomen. Logan’s voice echoed in my ear, but I didn’t listen to what he was saying.

 
Suddenly, the phone was lifted from my hand.

  “She’s busy at the moment,” Devon spoke into it. “She’ll have to ring you back.” He pressed the button to end the call, then tossed the phone carelessly behind him. It thudded to the carpet.

  The brief moment brought clarity. I wedged my arms between us and pushed against Devon’s chest while trying to cover my exposed body.

  “Stop,” I said, angling my head away from where his mouth was drifting over my collarbone. “I don’t want this.”

  Devon stilled, his proximity unchanged from my attempt to push him away. I waited to see what he’d do, barely breathing. I knew that if he pressed the issue, disregarded my wishes and continued kissing and touching me, I’d fold like a cheap tent. Even now as I struggled to keep a clear head, my body was wet and aching for him.

  He lifted his head, his ice-blue eyes staring down into mine.

  “Are you quite sure about that?” he asked.

  Devon’s hands spanned my waist, the pads of his fingers rough against my skin. A shiver ran through me and the whisper of a smile drifted across his face. I felt a blush crawling up my neck, but my words were firm.

  “I’m sure. You used me, lied to me.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to have sex with someone who treats me that way.”

  “I also saved your life—twice,” Devon said.

  I raised an eyebrow. “So you require sex as a thank-you?” I was hoping to hit a nerve, because Devon was too arrogant to ever have sex with a woman who viewed it as an obligation.

  Devon’s face was unreadable. “I don’t require anything,” he said, stepping away from me and confirming my suspicion. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  Bending down, I grabbed my shirt, clutching it to my chest as though it were a shield. Devon had disappeared from the room and I eyed the door. Was he right? Would someone come after me again if I went home? Or was he lying to me again? Should I leave now while I had the chance?

  But before I could make up my mind, Devon was back.

  “Here,” he said, handing me what had to be one of his shirts. “Put this on.”

  I turned my back and dropped my ruined blouse before shrugging into the much-too-large shirt. I buttoned it up and had to turn back the cuffs several times. The fabric was a thick, soft cotton and carried a whiff of Devon’s scent. When I turned, Devon was watching me, and the look in his eyes made me fleetingly regret calling a halt to his seduction.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, walking over to the kitchen. “Something in your stomach will help get the drugs out of your system.”

  “Okay,” I replied, noncommittal. Picking up my discarded blouse and bra, I folded them and set them aside, then took the opportunity of Devon not standing over me to look around the apartment.

  It was nice, like it-was-obvious-he-had-money kind of nice. The furniture was top-of-the-line and everything went together too well for me to think anyone other than a professional had decorated the place. There was a wide expanse of windows that showed the city skyline, so I could tell we were close to downtown, but in a more expensive neighborhood than my own.

  Something felt strange about the apartment and it took me a moment to pinpoint what it was. There was nothing personal in it at all. No photos, no books, no knickknack memorabilia sitting on shelves. It was like an apartment from a magazine, devoid of sentimentality or intimacy.

  My ponytail was falling out, so I reached up and pulled the band until my hair fell to my shoulders and down my back. I ran my fingers through it, trying to comb through the tangles. That felt better.

  I didn’t see a television, which I thought was strange, then I noticed a closed cabinet in the corner. Ah. It was probably there.

  I could hear Devon rummaging around in the kitchen as I headed for the white cupboards. The apartment had a lot of space and a hallway led back to where I assumed the bedroom was.

  My thoughts skittered away from that. Didn’t want to think about it. Though if I was going to stay here, where would I sleep?

  Best not dwell on that right now either.

  “Come sit down.”

  Devon had approached without me hearing him and now his hand was on my waist, moving me toward the couch. There was a tray of food sitting on the coffee table that held a couple of different types of cheese, some crackers, grapes, and strawberries.

  “Strawberries in the winter?” I asked as I sat on the couch. Those weren’t cheap.

  He shrugged. “I like strawberries.” Snagging one, he sat back, watching me as he bit down into the soft red fruit.

  My gaze was rapt on his mouth, now slightly pinker because of the juice clinging to his lips. His tongue swiped and the juice was gone, leaving behind a wet sheen. Tearing my eyes away, I picked up a cracker and some cheese.

  “Will you tell me who you are?” I asked, nibbling on the cracker. “Who you are really?”

  “I’ve already told you,” Devon replied.

  “But who do you work for? How can you kill so many people without the police catching you?” I couldn’t look at him as I asked, maybe because now that I was saying it aloud to him, it made it more real. If he realized I knew all he’d done, would he hurt me, too?

  “My job is a bit . . . above the law.” He reached out, snagging another strawberry.

  I swallowed the bit of cheese in my mouth, wondering if I wanted an answer to my next question. “And what is that job exactly?”

  “I’m a spy, of course.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I stared at Devon, then slowly blinked.

  “You’re a what?” I asked.

  “A spy,” he repeated, “though perhaps not how you’re used to thinking of one.” He ate another strawberry.

  “I generally don’t think of spies at all,” I said honestly. “I kind of thought they were extinct after the Cold War.”

  “Extinct?” He raised an eyebrow. “Surely I’m not that old. Besides, spies never go away, nor does the need for them.”

  I let this ruminate for a moment. “So,” I said, “you’re a . . . British spy? Spying on America?” Nice. I’d hooked up with someone who could probably get me arrested for treason or some such thing.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he dismissed. “We don’t spy on allies.”

  The way he said it made my response a little dry. “Of course you don’t.”

  His lips twitched at my tone. “I told you I’m looking for someone,” he said. “My search led me here.”

  “And Mr. Galler is . . . was . . . involved?”

  “It would seem so.”

  I waited, but Devon didn’t elaborate. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “That’s all you need to know.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that from the beginning?” I asked. “Why the lies and . . . and the pretending to like me . . . and taking me to dinner and . . . and stuff?” Blurting all of that out made me look away in embarrassment, but I wanted to know. I’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. After years of being so cautious, it burned to know how easily Devon had seduced me.

  His hand cupped my chin, making me turn to face him. I lifted my eyes reluctantly to his.

  “I didn’t tell you because I thought you might be working with them,” he said. “And I do like you. If I hadn’t . . . well, there are other ways to make someone talk.”

  Yeah, I didn’t really want to know the details.

  “What convinced you I wasn’t?” I asked instead.

  Devon’s hand slid to my cheek and I resisted the urge to tip my head farther into his hand.

  “The night you were afraid,” he said. “You couldn’t have faked that, nor would there have been a reason to, if you’d been working for them.”

  That night flashed through my mind, how quickly he’d known what I’d been trying to hide.

 
He was so close, and the words he said soothed my mangled pride. But I didn’t trust him. He could lie so easily, and considering his life probably depended on how well he did so, it would be foolish to believe him now. Should I even believe that he was a spy? Maybe he was playing a game with me, seeing if I’d believe such an outlandish story.

  I eased back, putting some space between us. “So you’re just going to keep me here?”

  “For now,” Devon said, the calculating look coming back into his eyes. He stood. “Come. You need to rest.”

  Taking my hand, he pulled me to my feet and led me down the hall to the bedroom. He flipped on the switch and a lamp illuminated the room. Although spacious, the huge bed dominated the space and my eyes were drawn inexorably to it.

  “You can sleep in here,” he said. “I’ll take the sofa.” The way he said it, almost with a wry smile, had me glancing at him.

  “You don’t have to give up your bed for me,” I protested. “I mean, it’s not like you’re a gentleman.” I didn’t know why I added the dig, maybe I wanted to push him and see how far he’d go.

  But his lips only twisted further. “I can pretend as well as the next man,” he said.

  Devon moved closer until we were nearly touching. I stood my ground, though I wanted desperately to take a step back.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, immediately hating the throaty sound in my voice.

  Devon didn’t answer me. His gaze dropped to my mouth and my pulse leapt. Leaning down, his lips brushed mine in a feather-light touch. His lips were soft and warm, teasing gently and coaxing a response from me as his tongue swiped my bottom lip.

  It was electric and I moaned softly, opening my mouth so he could deepen the kiss. He tasted of strawberries, his tongue sliding along mine as his hand palmed the back of my head. Devon kissed me as though he had all the time in the world, until I was breathless and clutching his shoulders, my body pressed against his.

  “Your body was made for me,” he murmured, his lips sliding along my jaw to leave my skin burning. “That’s why you’re not afraid. It knows me. It wants me between your legs, buried inside you.”