The Devil She Knows

by Kira Sinclair

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.” Dev frowned. What was that supposed to mean? But, before he could ask, she changed topics as if she’d been talking about nothing more important than the weather. “What happened?”

  “Someone broke into Willow’s house.”

  “That’s unusual. We don’t have a lot of crime in Sweetheart, and this is a good area.”

  “No place is perfectly safe.”

  “True, but summer’s usually when we have the most trouble, when the rental cottages out by the lake are full of outsiders.”

  Dev shrugged. That might be true, but he probably knew better than most just how much trouble an insider could cause in Sweetheart if he really wanted to. But either way, that wasn’t the point. Not that he intended to tell Erica.

  She was nothing more than a nosy neighbor.

  Grant’s silhouette filled Willow’s front door. Despite being in his early forties, the man was still formidable. Dev supposed that was a good trait to have in a sheriff.

  Taking the cue, the knot of people who’d formed began to drift away, leaving Willow so that she and Grant could talk.

  Without a word, he fell into step behind her as she crossed the lawn and walked up the four steps to her porch.

  Grant didn’t pull any punches. “Don’t think anything’s missing, but I’d like you to take a look anyway, just to be sure. The picture’s obviously a message, although you might have a better idea what it means.”

  Willow shook her head. “I have no idea. But...” She glanced at Dev out of the corner of her eye. “You should probably know it was taken last night in the alley close to the diner.”

  Grant’s mouth thinned, but he nodded. Cool gray eyes swung to Dev. “I suppose you’re the guy?”

  He didn’t bother to explain. Stepping behind Willow, he wrapped an arm around her waist and laid his hand possessively across her hip, pulling her back against his body. She stiffened, but didn’t try to break free.

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t give y’all a lecture about public indecency.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “But y’all should be more careful next time.” Returning his focus to Willow he continued, “I’ll file a report, but there’s really not much I can do. I’ll take the picture and dust it for prints, although it’ll be a while before we get anything back...assuming I can find some.”

  “Thank you,” Dev said, holding his hand out to the other man. “Willow will be at my place if you find anything.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  Both of them turned to stare at her. She crossed her arms over her chest. Dev didn’t think she had any idea that the posture pushed the swell of her breasts high against the cut of her shirt.

  All the desire he’d suppressed came rushing back with a hard ache that nearly had him gasping. But the challenging glitter in her eyes told him she wasn’t interested...at least, not at this precise moment.

  She was braced for an argument, and he had no problems giving it to her. At least it was an outlet for the passion thumping just beneath his skin.

  “Yes, you will. It isn’t safe for you to stay here, Willow.”

  “I will not be run out of my home, Dev. While I’ll admit I’m a little unsettled that someone got in here, if they’d wanted to hurt me they could have just waited and attacked when I came home.”

  “Maybe they were planning to, until I showed up.”

  “We would have heard them leaving, Dev. No one was here. But it’s possible someone is watching, and I refuse to slink away with my tail tucked between my legs. I won’t give them the satisfaction.”

  Dev’s eyes narrowed, evaluating her and trying to determine just where the chinks in her armor were so he could exploit them. Over his years of negotiating with potential clients, he’d gotten very good at discovering which buttons to push to get the results he wanted—it was one reason his business had become so successful.

  But before he could act on what he saw, Willow said, “Don’t even think about it.”

  “About what?”

  “Trying to convince, argue or cajole your way into getting what you want. I’m not leaving, Dev, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.” She swung her gaze to Grant who’d stood by silently and watched the entire exchange. “Or you. I know how to call if I need help.”

  Obviously realizing that whatever he said would be a waste of breath, Grant nodded. “Don’t be stupid. Anything feels out of place or off, you call me. Don’t worry about interrupting or bothering me. This is my job, Willow, and I’d rather rush over and investigate every strange bump than get a call that something terrible has happened.”

  He pulled out a card, wrote a number on the back and handed it to her. “My cell number. Use it.”

  Willow stared down at the tiny square of white for a moment before taking it. “Fair enough.”

  She started to turn to walk the sheriff out, but Grant stalled her. “Warwick, why don’t you come out to the cruiser with me. There are a couple things I’d like to talk to you about.”

  Willow’s eyebrows slammed down. “Don’t you look at me that way,” Grant countered before she could protest. “You said your piece and we’re both going to let you make your own decisions, but that means you don’t get to argue about this.”

  Her shoulders rose and fell on a heavy breath. “Fine,” she ground out between clenched teeth, but turned away instead of saying more.

  Grant gestured Dev forward, following him back out to the driveway. Dev paused beside the car. Grant reached inside and the whirling colors stopped, plunging them both into a sharp darkness. It had gotten late while they’d dealt with all the crap and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the loss of light.

  But when he did, he could see the other man staring grimly at him.

  “You staying tonight?”

  “Of course,” he answered. Even if she made him sleep on the sofa there was no way Dev was leaving her alone.

  Grant just nodded.

  “You hurt her and you’ll have me to answer to. And we both know how much of a pain in the ass I can be when I want to. I can make every moment of your time here in Sweetheart miserable.”

  “What is with everyone? I have no intention of hurting her.”

  “Why would anyone suspect you didn’t? Ten years ago you ruined her sister’s marriage and fled town instead of sticking by Rose’s side to help her deal with the mess you made.”

  Dev’s jaw tightened. A few weeks ago he would have said he no longer cared what anyone in Sweetheart thought about him—or what had happened. Apparently he’d been wrong.

  It bugged the shit out of him, but he was under no illusions that anyone would be interested in the truth now. They hadn’t been back then, and nothing had changed. Everyone expected the worst and saw what they wanted.

  “Rose made that mess all on her own. And there was no way I could stick around even if there’d been a reason to. My grandfather kicked me out and told me he never wanted to see my face again. So I left.”

  Grant’s hands clenched tight on the top of the open car door standing between them. His knuckles went white with tension.

  “Don’t ruin Willow the way you did Rose.”

  “I have no intention of ruining anyone.” Dev wanted to choke back a reassurance—this man didn’t deserve it—but it escaped anyway. “Willow’s special. Always has been. I’m not stupid. Or blind.”

  Grant’s hold eased, the blood rushing back into his abused fingers. The man studied him with the sharp eyes of someone who’d seen a lot and had developed the ability to separate fact from fiction.

  Dev stood, accepting the scrutiny. Even as it bothered him, he realized Grant was only trying to protect Willow.

  Finally, Grant no
dded and folded down into the driver’s seat. Reaching for the door, he said, “I’ll give you a call if we find anything.” Dev supposed that was the closest he was going to get to acceptance.

  He’d lived in the South, around possessive, protective men, long enough. He could read between the lines. Should Forensics find anything, Grant wouldn’t be calling Willow...he’d be calling Dev.

  He just hoped Willow never found out.

  9

  WILLOW MOVED THROUGH the kitchen, trying not to let her attention stray to the table where the photograph had been waiting. She wasn’t going to let anyone chase her from her own home.

  It was late. She was hungry. And no doubt Dev would be, as well. Feeding him was the least she could do considering he’d stuck with her through everything.

  The night had definitely not gone the way either of them had hoped.

  She sighed, trying to push her own disappointment away, and stirred the strips of chicken, bell pepper and onions she’d thrown into a pan. Tortilla shells were already heating in the microwave, and bowls of lettuce, tomatoes and cheese waited on the island countertop behind her.

  She didn’t even hear him approach. Her first warning that Dev had come back inside was his hands wrapping around her waist from behind and pulling her against his body.

  Knee-jerk reaction had her stiffening, but even before her mind could register who was holding her, her body was relaxing with recognition. Apparently it didn’t mind that she was miffed at him for ganging up on her with Sheriff Grant.

  Stupid hormones.

  “Sit,” she ordered, trying to muster up a glare for his benefit. The knowing smirk that teased his lips said she hadn’t quite pulled it off.

  Although he did step back and pull out one of the chairs around her dark wooden table.

  “I’m not much of a cook,” she said in a tone that rang with apology.

  “If you say ‘I’m sorry’ I’m going to leave,” he warned. “I don’t care if you can cook. I didn’t ask you to feed me.”

  “I know, but I needed something to do.”

  Silence settled over them, heavy with unspoken words. She didn’t want to talk about the photograph, and he was obviously aware of her reluctance. She turned away, reaching into the cupboard to pull down two plates. His wooden chair creaked. An unexpected crackle of awareness shot across her skin. Devlin Warwick was sitting at her kitchen table. Three days ago that had been so far out of the realm of possibility as to have been laughable. Now her body buzzed with the low hum of constant awareness and need.

  “I would have taken you somewhere for dinner. Gotten you out of here, at least for a little while.”

  “I didn’t want to go anywhere.”

  “Because you don’t want to be seen with me.” His voice was low and soft. It was a statement, not a question.

  That bothered her.

  “Surely you know that’s not it,” she protested, setting her hips against the hard edge of the stove. From across the room she watched him. The buzz intensified, becoming a sharp ache.

  As she watched, Dev morphed. His eyelids dropped down. His eyes glittered at her with promise and heat. Her body responded.

  “Stop.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice gone breathless.

  “You keep looking at me like that and it’ll be a long time before we eat anything.”

  Without turning, Willow reached behind her and flipped a switch, turning the burner beneath the pan off.

  Dev groaned low in his throat and started to surge up, but a quick shake of her head stilled him.

  Willow reached up and found the pins holding her hair in a knot on her head. She slipped each of them free until it all tumbled down around her shoulders.

  Dev sprawled back in his chair, spreading his legs wide. The length of his erection strained against the fly of his jeans. She wanted it, and the oblivion only he could give her.

  From somewhere deep inside, her inner vixen woke and stretched. What was it about this man that made her feel so desired, that made every look seem erotic? He called to pieces of her soul that even she hadn’t known existed...always had.

  Slowly, she closed the space between them, reaching up to flick open the buttons on the oversize flannel shirt she’d thrown over skintight leggings.

  “Do you have any idea how good you look right now?”

  She answered honestly. “No.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for those ankle breakers you like to prance around in. And those short little skirts. But that...” His eyes skimmed across her body. “Makes me want to burn everything you own and leave you with nothing to wear but my shirts.”

  Her sharp intake of breath had the heat in his eyes flaring higher. She should protest, tell him he was an idiot. But she wouldn’t. She’d never been one of those women who wanted to be owned and possessed. She was too independent and strong, but with him...the thrill of possibilities shot down her spine.

  She wanted to be his, always had. There was a piece of her that was bothered by just how much power this man had over her. How easily he could coax her into breaking her own rules.

  The rest of her was too turned on to care.

  Obviously, his dangerous edge was rubbing off on her and she wasn’t entirely certain that was a good thing.

  Dev shifted on the hard chair, drawing her focus back to the weight of his cock pressing against his fly. Her pulse fluttered and her gaze pulled up to tangle with his. What she saw there stole her breath, made her burn and scared the crap out of her.

  She’d seen the same narrow-eyed, hungry expression on one of those nature shows, a sleek panther stalking prey. He hadn’t moved, and yet she already felt caught. Out of her depth. Severely outclassed and lacking in the skills necessary to escape whatever was coming for her.

  But beneath that was a thrill, a burst of endorphins and adrenaline.

  Her muscles bunched, and even she wasn’t sure if it was to run. But as the possibility occurred to her, she realized it was way too late for caution.

  Crossing the space to him, she stepped between his open thighs. His wide hands settled around her waist, holding her still. His head fell back against the curved slats of her kitchen chair. His hooded gaze swept across her, caressing her and sending a flare of heat through her body.

  But she wasn’t content to just stand there. Not tonight. Pushing against his hold, she climbed right up into his lap, wedged her knees along his hips and sank down onto him.

  “We should go upstairs.” His fingers tightened around her waist, as if by the sheer force of his will he could hold her a little apart.

  Willow shook her head. Hands bracketing his face, she pulled him close. His heat settled deep into her bones, chasing away the chill she hadn’t even realized still lurked there. “No. Here. Now. Give me something else to think about whenever I look at this table.”

  He groaned deep in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and spearing her with those dark blue pools. His mouth was pulled into a grim line, but he nodded, agreeing to give her what she needed even if he wasn’t entirely happy about it.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, closing the gap and sealing her mouth to his. He tasted dark and a little sinful. Which was exactly what she needed right now, something relentless that would suck her down and not let her think.

  Willow grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head in one quick movement that left her blessedly bare. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, and when Dev groaned low in his throat she was glad for the decision.

  He filled his hands with her, softly brushing his palms against her aching nipples. But right now she didn’t want soft.

  Laying her own hands on top of his, she pressed harder. Flexing her hips, she ground her body against the strong ridge of
his erection. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.

  Dev leaned forward and pulled the heat of her into his mouth. The pebbled edge of his tongue scraped against the distended center of her breast. Willow sighed and arched into him.

  Her hair tickled across her back. His hands tangled in the thick mass, angling her back so that he could get a better taste.

  Dev ran his lips across her collarbone, taking nipping bites of her as he went. She shuddered.

  Her mouth found the skin at the opening of his collar. The taste of him exploded against her mouth, masculine and earthy, sky and sunlight. She needed sunlight right now. Needed him.

  Her hands searched between them for his fly. A sound of triumph and appreciation vibrated up from her center when she found exactly what she wanted.

  She freed him, reveling in the heavy sound as a groan exploded through his parted lips. Her hips rolled against his, capturing his length between the heat of her hand and the wall of his abs.

  He surged against her, silently indulging in the shared sensuality of the caress. Dark eyes glittered at her with promise and the sheen of a fever she understood. He wanted the same thing she did, to have him deep inside her.

  Her own muscles clenched hard, wanting. One night with him hadn’t been nearly enough. She wasn’t sure there was a number that would ever satisfy her, not completely.

  Her hand slipped up and down his swollen sex. She could feel the throb, the pulsing urgency echoing deep inside her own body.

  “God, I need you. All of you,” he ground out.

  Wrapping his hands around her waist, Dev lifted her up onto her knees. Her thighs tightened, gripping his body and holding on. The hard press of the chair bit into her kneecaps, but she didn’t care. The surface wasn’t quite big enough for both of them, but his bracing hold kept her from toppling over.

  The change in position dragged her hand away from him. She might have protested, but his mouth found the smooth expanse of her belly and feathered kisses across the surface. Her muscles leaped, contracting at the tickling caress. He leaned forward and nipped at the indent of her belly button, dipping his tongue inside. Burying her fingers deep in the strands of his hair, she held him to her, relishing the way he could make her body respond.