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?”
“You think this is about me.”
She took a deep breath. The motion of her breasts, pushing tight against the soft shirt that clung to her skin, made his mouth go dry with the need to taste her again.
“You’re the only one in the pictures. They appear the day after you arrive back in town. It isn’t a great leap to the idea that whatever this is, it’s about you.”
She was worried about him. The realization slammed into him so hard that he let her go and rocked back into his chair. Her palm, still flat on the table, flexed as if she’d just escaped from a tight, uncomfortable binding.
It had been a long time since anyone had been concerned for him.
A warm buzz started somewhere in the center of his chest and spread slowly through the rest of him.
“I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary.”
“Who said I was concerned?”
He snagged her gaze, holding her in place and refusing to let her go. His lips tugged up into a lopsided grin that dared her to lie to him again.
She didn’t bother. “Just be careful. You weren’t exactly considered citizen of the year before. I don’t want what happened between us to derail your job with the resort.”
“Well, that’s sweet, angel, but my contract with the consortium is airtight. The only way the citizens of Sweetheart are getting rid of me this time is if I don’t perform. And we both know I have no problems in that department.”
Dev enjoyed the way her cheeks flamed with color. Her eyes flashed a warning. His body hummed, this verbal sparring with her doing nothing to quench the flame of need licking across his skin. In fact, it only made him want her more.
Ten years ago she’d been quiet and unsure. Delicate. She still had that edge of fragility that made a man want to circle around her and growl at anything that came within inches of touching her. But she no longer held back, unafraid to call him on his bullshit and slap him across the face with her harsh words.
Willow Portis had grown up, and God, that only made him want her more. She’d been a tempting teenager. She was a formidable woman.
She’d pulled her long, sleek hair into a smooth knot at the back of her head—now the deep, dark brown that he remembered. He wanted to tug on it and make the silky strands tumble down across his hands and chest and thighs. He wanted to run his teeth along the elegant curve of her long neck. He wanted to leave a mark on her so that every time she looked at it her body would remember.
Instead, he clenched his hands tight in his lap beneath the table and dragged a heavy breath into his burning lungs.
He needed to put some distance between them. Now. Before he did something stupid and compounded the problems they already had.
“Look, I appreciate the thought, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself for most of my life.” By force of will, Dev tore his eyes from hers. The moment his attention drifted over the crowd of people around them, guilty stares started jerking away.
Nothing ever changed.
His lips twisted into a scowl and he said, “You better leave now. A few more minutes sitting here with me and your reputation will be ruined forever.”
Dismissing her, he dipped several fries into the pile of ketchup on his plate and shoved them into his mouth.
But she didn’t leave. Instead, she shifted on her chair, as if she were finding a softer spot to settle. Willow Portis was a disconcerting puzzle. Just when he thought he’d pegged her, she went and did something that broke the neat box he’d shoved her into.
Watching him through lowered lids, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at him.
“You really are an asshole, aren’t you?”
Her words hurt, although he didn’t want them to. And he certainly wasn’t going to let her know it. Swirling another fry through the pool of red, he said lazily, “Yep, that’s me.”
“What did Rose ever see in you?”
He sent her a mischievous grin, the sexual energy he was trying to keep a tight lid on leaking out.
“Rose got exactly what she wanted from me.”
Willow huffed deep in the back of her throat.
“I seriously doubt that. She had to leave town. You both did. Nothing is worth losing your home, especially not sex.”
“Speak for yourself, little girl. Finally getting a taste of you was worth a whole hell of a lot.”
She gasped, enraged. God, he’d always enjoyed watching her shoulders tighten with indignation and her eyes narrow with determination. Ten years ago it was the only kind of passion he’d let himself have from her. Except that one night...
What bothered him most about the conversation was the obvious role Willow had cast Rose in—the victim. The little vixen had been far from innocent.
“Rose left town because she wanted to, Willow.”
Willow shook her head. “Rose left because she didn’t have a choice.”
Dev swore, long and low. Luckily, he was smart enough to keep the worst of his response inside his own head. “She had plenty of choices. She did exactly what she wanted. She always did.”
Even he could hear the bitter edge to his words, but apparently Willow was too caught up in her indignation to notice.
“Is that what you tell your guilty conscience? Rose is a showgirl in Vegas, Dev. She dances topless. Because she couldn’t do anything else to earn money when her husband divorced her.”
How had Willow’s vision of her sister become so skewed?
“And she loves every minute of it. She’s the center of attention. Men fawn over her. They desire her. No doubt she has a string of them that she’s taking for everything they’re worth. Don’t kid yourself. We both know your sister can take care of herself just fine. She’s manipulative and ruthlessly beautiful...and she knows it.”
Willow’s eyes flashed a warning, but he had no intention of heeding it. Rose had cost him plenty and he wasn’t going to pull any punches, not even for her sister.
The legs of her chair scraped loudly against the floor. Willow stood. She glared down at him, her body tight with contemptuous disdain. It should bother him. On anyone else it probably would have. But with Willow...the haughty expression just made him want to ruffle her pristine feathers again. To drag her down into the muck with him and show her just how much fun it could be to get dirty.
To make her remember—and admit—how satisfying last night had been. And that she wanted desperately to do it again. Just as badly as he did.
“I refuse to listen to you malign my sister.” When she left the diner, her palms slapped the front door with a resounding smack. A whirling gust of wind blasted in, fluttering the papers tacked to the bulletin board by the door.
Throwing a twenty down onto the table, Dev followed her.
This conversation wasn’t over.
6
WILLOW SEETHED. HOW dare he talk about Rose that way? He was the reason she’d gotten into trouble in the first place. If he’d kept his tempting smile and those challengingly sensual eyes to himself then her sister never would have made the mistakes that she had.
And Willow wouldn’t have been left feeling betrayed by them both. Although she really didn’t want to think about that. Ten years was a long time and she’d moved on. Let it go. Everyone had their heart broken as a teenager...it was a rite of passage. Dev had been hers.
There was no reason to compound the stupidity by letting him get to her again. She was older and smarter now. And she saw beneath the crap he was pedaling.
But maybe that was the problem. He’d said exactly what she’d expected him to—poked and prodded at her just as he’d always done—but unlike before, something told her there was more to his barbed comments.
Was he just giving her what she expected?
Rose had been wild long before Dev had come into her life. Her sister had delighted in ignoring the rules. If her parents set a curfew, Rose broke it. If they told her not to wear something, she hid the clothes and changed the moment she was out of their sight. If they told her not to date someone, she spent hours outside in the driveway necking with him.
About the only thing she’d done that her parents had approved of was marrying Marcus. He was older, and comfortable enough to take care of her. Rose wasn’t a good student and college had definitely not been in her future.
And Rose had enjoyed being treated like a princess. Her husband had showered her with jewelry and trips and a brand-new car. For a twenty-year-old the easy lifestyle had been seductive, and only two months after meeting him Rose had eloped.
Willow’s mind spun back to the past, one she tried hard to forget. Things had seemed fine for a few months. Rose settled down a bit. She spent her time getting her nails done and going shopping. She was happy.
And then it all exploded. Rose began staying out all night again. She got into trouble, even calling late one night so that their parents could bail her out of jail. Several times her husband showed up at their house in the middle of the night looking for her. Willow remembered the loud, angry voices.
She’d tried to talk to Rose, but her sister had been tight-lipped, telling her everything would be fine.
And then the rumors about her and Wick had started...just days after he’d walked away from her. She’d confronted Rose. With dreamy eyes, her sister had said Wick was her ticket out of Sweetheart. And Willow had been devastated.
But she shouldn’t have been. She knew his reputation, a scandalous loner who never stayed with anyone for very long. They’d never even dated. Aside from that one night on her porch, he’d never touched her.
She’d felt like an idiot, but couldn’t stop it from hurting.
He hadn’t even stood by Rose. Within days of the scandal breaking, Wick was gone.
And that pissed her off more than anything. He’d been playing with Willow. She accepted that. But he’d destroyed Rose’s life and then walked away as if it was no big deal.
The Devil She Knows Page 6