“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve seen your sewing skills. They suck. I might let you keep the supply of coffee going, though.”
“Done,” Tatum said, pulling her back into a tight hug before letting her go again.
A clatter at the door startled them all. Everyone turned to watch as Dev shot into the room. His anxious eyes darted around, taking in the mess and the people before zeroing straight in on her.
Stalking into the chaos, he wrapped her in the comforting heat and support of his arms. Her name whispered against her temple, the single word splintering the fragile hold she had on her own emotions.
She looked up into his dark blue eyes. They were filled with regret, sympathy, sorrow and a bone-deep fury that might have made her shudder with dread if it had been pointed at her.
He dipped his head down, pressed his mouth to her forehead and mumbled, “It’ll be okay,” against her skin.
The dam that had been holding everything back burst and she completely lost it. He swept her up into his arms and she let him. He carried her somewhere quiet. The world tilted. Lowering them both to the floor, Dev settled her heavily against him.
Burying her head in his shoulder, Willow let it all go. She sobbed against him. Her fists wrapped in his shirt, balling it and pulling him closer. The steady pressure of his hand brushed up and down her back in a soothing rhythm.
He didn’t tell her to stop. He didn’t try to comfort her. He just sheltered her with his body and held her tight, letting the emotion pour out of her however it needed to.
Willow had no idea how long they stayed there locked together like that, but when the tears were spent and she could finally breathe without a painful hitch, she looked up to find them at the far end of the hallway outside her workroom.
“Oh, God,” she groaned, pressing her face back into Dev’s shoulder to hide the rush of embarrassment that touched her skin. “I just made a complete fool of myself.”
“Cut yourself some slack. You’ve been through a lot today.” Dev’s voice rumbled at her, the vibrations slipping from his chest into her own.
An ache that had nothing to do with what she’d lost began to thump in the center of her chest. It wasn’t desire—or wasn’t just desire, since that was always there between them—it was more.
She liked him. She wanted him. She cared about him.
And that was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. But what could she do? If there were a woman alive who could resist Devlin Warwick, Willow would like to meet her. He was sexy and charming with a dangerous edge. Tempting. Kind. A little lost and wounded.
And he’d known exactly what she needed and given it to her.
“Grant said they’ve got what they need. Hopefully this time whoever’s doing this slipped up and left a fingerprint or something.”
“I know I locked my workroom before I left last night. I’m anal about security.”
“Well, apparently locks aren’t enough to stop this person. They’ve broken into your house, my house and your workroom. Until this is resolved, promise me you won’t go anywhere alone.”
While part of her wanted to protest on principle, Willow wasn’t stupid. The incidents were escalating and this last one had been more than personal. It had been vindictive and destructive.
“I promise.”
“Your friends are cleaning up your workroom, although I have no doubt I’m only going to be able to keep you out of there for a few more minutes. Let them help you.”
She nodded.
“Let me help you.”
A weak smile played across her lips. “Do you have a hidden talent I’m unaware of? Can you sew?”
“Unless you’re going for Gothic, with spots of blood, you should keep me far away from needles.”
A shudder of revulsion shook her. “God, no blood.” Somehow, despite everything, he’d found a way to make her smile. And that was probably more important than anything.
She’d purged the emotions that had been building inside her. The heavy weight crushing her chest was suddenly lifted. And despite everything, she felt hopeful.
“Well, one good thing might come from all of this.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”
“Now I get to give the country princess the design I wanted all along. For a woman constantly in the spotlight, she has no clue what looks good on her body type.”
“That’s my girl,” Dev said.
Willow looked up into his face. Snuggling in his lap, with approval and pride shining down at her from his dark eyes, she felt warmed through.
And suddenly the moment of happiness she’d found dimmed.
She was in so much trouble. And the danger had nothing to do with whoever was stalking her or the potential damage to her reputation as a designer.
She was falling for Dev all over again. And just as before, she was going to get her heart broken. Only this time she wouldn’t have anyone to blame but herself.
12
TONIGHT EVERYTHING FELT different. He felt different. Today had been a game changer. Getting that phone call from Macey, walking into Willow’s workroom to find her standing there in the middle of all that destruction...
Never in his life had he been violent. His father, when he’d been around, hadn’t had a problem beating the shit out of him for no reason. Dev had been more a lover than a fighter, using his face and charm instead of his fists to get what he wanted.
But in that moment he could have joyfully hurt whoever had left that hunted, injured expression on Willow’s face.
Maybe no one else had noticed the cracks that were showing through her facade, the cracks she was trying desperately to shore up, but he had. The moment he’d walked into the room he’d recognized just how close she was to losing it. And he’d wanted nothing more than to give her a safe place to land.
Not just then, but forever. He’d fought the need to whisk her away to someplace safe, mostly because he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. So he’d settled for the silent hallway, as far away as he figured she’d let him get while her design studio was in a shambles.
They’d taken the rest of the day to put everything to rights. He hadn’t spent much time with her friends up to that point, but he liked them. Even if they had given him several hard looks and individually found a moment to warn him against hurting her.
What was it with the citizens of Sweetheart? Willow had more people watching over her virtue than the average nun.
But even though it was slightly annoying, knowing she had so many people who cared for her also made him happy.
It had taken some fast talking from him and her friends to convince her there was no reason to start redesigning the dresses tonight. She needed a little rest before she dove into a marathon design session.
So he’d brought her home. To the only one he’d ever really known.
He pulled into the driveway, and for the first time in a long while, instead of seeing the place as a burden he remembered the moment he’d driven up when his grandfather took him in. He’d visited before, but that time he was there to stay and everyone knew it.
Relief had flooded him, but experience and wariness had kept him from showing it. His grandfather hadn’t said anything, just reached across the bench seat of his pickup to place a heavy hand on Dev’s shoulder. He’d squeezed. It was the silent comfort and reassurance his grandfather had instinctively known that young Dev had needed.
Part of him wished his grandfather was still here so he could find that reassurance again. He had no idea what he was doing—in Sweetheart and with Willow. He’d come here for a little benign revenge and instead he’d fallen for a brilliant, cool, poised and passionate woman who had the potential to turn his life upside down. Again.
He’d promised himself he’d never be that vulnerable again.
But he couldn’t seem to turn away from her. When she’d looked at him today, those light blue eyes still shiny with tears, as if he was the only person holding her life together...
It had been a very long time since anyone had looked at him that way—as though he was worth something. Like he mattered.
Taking Willow’s hand, Dev squeezed it and then jumped out. Striding around the side of the truck, he helped her from the cab.
Her body collided with his, slithering down as her feet found the ground. He reacted, every cell going on full alert.
Dev wanted her. To touch and taste. To fill her up and assure them both that she was safe. But now wasn’t the time for that. She’d been through enough today and needed peace.
Unfortunately, he knew the one place that would normally have provided that—her studio—wasn’t going to work. At least, not for a little while. So he did the next best thing.
Tugging on her hand, he led her around to the gate in the side of the fence and pushed it open. The hinges squeaked and the wood creaked. Her small gasp of surprise as she walked into the garden was enough of a reaction to make his chest swell just a little with pride.
“Dev, this is gorgeous. I had no idea it was back here. Did you do this?”
He’d hired a landscape company to keep everything in order, but somehow it hadn’t been the same. The bushes were trimmed, the mulch in the proper places. The few late-blooming flowers had been fragrant.
But the moment he’d walked out here that first night it had felt impersonal. Everything was right, but it wasn’t his grandmother’s garden. So he’d spent his downtime back here trying to capture the elusive element that had been missing.
Willow walked farther into the garden. Slowly, she turned to take it all in. The soft tinkle of the pond in the far corner. The stone bench. The rosebushes climbing up a trellis.
Finally, she turned to him, a beautiful smile on her face. And he realized exactly what had been missing...her. Heart and soul.
She was surrounded by color and the new flowers he’d planted. Autumn crocus, calla lilies, some asters. Most of the flowers wouldn’t last much longer, but while he was here, he’d needed to see them. To see the place as it had once been.
If he was honest with himself, by restoring the garden of his memories he’d been saying goodbye. When the Sweetheart Consortium job was finished there’d be no reason to hang on to the house anymore. No reason to stay.
A sharp pain lanced through his temple and he closed his eyes, willing it away.
“I thought you might like to sit out here for a little while. Just breathe.”
Willow, polished, contained and utterly sophisticated stood in the center of his domain. She should have looked out of place. But she didn’t. She was perfect. Just like the milky-white tubes of the calla lilies off to her left, she held heat and color deep in the center of her soul, only sharing the secret with a very lucky few.
She cocked her head to the side and considered him for several moments. Flicking her feet, she let her designer heels fall haphazardly to the ground. She didn’t even watch where they landed, just flexed her toes, letting them crush down into the dirt.
The look of utter bliss on her face was erotic as hell. She stood in the middle of his sanctuary, his fallen angel, perfect, hugely tempting and slightly disheveled.
Crooking her finger at him, she lured him forward. “Show me.”
He took several steps toward her. How could he not?
“What?” What did she want to see? How she could drive him to his knees with nothing more than a glimpse of the passion in her eyes? How much he wanted her?
“Whatever you want. I want to watch you work. Show me what you do.”
That was not what he expected. “You’re going to get dirty.”
“If you haven’t figured out that doesn’t bother me then there’s no hope for you.”
“Just making sure.”
Gesturing her over to a corner of the garden he’d cleared for some new flowers, he showed her how to prep the soil, pop the small root ball from the waiting pot and transfer the plant to its new home. She dug right in, quickly picking up the mindless rhythm.
They worked side by side for a while. He enjoyed watching her muscles relax and the tension she’d been carrying like a constant companion ease. The silence that stretched between them took the edge off the ever-present need. Dev was surprised to realize that sitting there with her in the quiet twilight was effortless. While he’d meant to give her a space full of much-needed peace, he’d also managed to give it to himself.
Or maybe she’d done that.
Dropping back onto his heels, Dev watched Willow. At least he’d convinced her to go inside and change out of her dress and into something more appropriate. Her long, slender fingers were dusted with dirt. Clumps of it clung to her jeans-clad thighs. The muscles in her arms and back bunched and strained. Her teeth ground together as she fought a particularly stubborn weed that didn’t want to let go of its hold.
It finally popped out. The sudden loss of resistance sent her toppling over onto her rear. Not even the surprise of that could diminish the light of triumph in her eyes. She’d won.
Dev couldn’t help but laugh at the vision she made, sprawled on her butt in the grass.
Until a mangled clump of dirt smacked him right in the chest.
“You think that’s funny?”
“Absolutely not,” he said, trying to bite the inside of his cheek and get control of his reaction.
The effort was wasted, though, since he had no intention of letting her projectile go unchallenged.
Stalking toward her, he scooped up a handful of loose potting soil he’d mounded beside the flower bed. Willow wasn’t stupid. She knew what was coming and wasn’t willing to sit still and take it. She scrambled to her feet, poised to dart away.
But he was faster.
Snatching her around the waist, Dev pulled her close. His mouth nuzzled the spot just behind her ear. Her body responded immediately, relaxing against him.
And then he struck, tugging at the neck of her shirt so he could let the moist dirt trickle down her back. She gasped and squirmed, but he held her tight.
She was driving him crazy. What had started as retaliation quickly backfired on him. The moment he’d touched her he was a goner and the more she rubbed in all the right places...
Wrapping his hand around her jaw, Dev pulled her mouth to his. The moment his lips found hers she stopped struggling to get away from him and started trying to get closer. Her response was immediate and made something primitive swell deep inside him.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back snug against his chest. He cradled her neck, holding her so he could take the kiss deeper. She sighed and melted into him.
He half expected her to protest when he moved to pull her shirt off over her head, but she didn’t. The fences were high and no one would see them here in the privacy of his backyard. But that wouldn’t prevent the neighbors from hearing, if they were outside.
She didn’t stop him. Instead, she helped him, pulling frantically at the confines of her bra and tossing it away. She barely gave him time to appreciate the tantalizing effect of the see-through mesh and lace before it was gone.
“Have I told you how much I love your underwear?”
Her mouth curved. He felt more than saw her smile. “Not enough to leave it in one piece.”
His hands found warm, willing flesh. One hand splayed across the tight expanse of her tummy, pressing her against the bulge straining his fly. The other found the tight buds of her nipples. They thrust against his palm when he dragged his hand over her. Her back arched, seeking more even as her taut derriere ground against him, making him breathless with wanting her.
Suddenly, he needed to see her, all of her, here, where he fou
nd his own sense of peace and comfort. He wanted to drag rose petals across her body so that she could feel how soft they were and he could smell and taste them on her skin.
Darkness was falling. Gloomy shadows twisted around them. The only sound was their mingled gasps as they drove each other insane with need.
When Willow pulled away from him, Dev expected her to grab his hand and lead him inside to the first flat surface. Instead, she walked several paces farther into the dusk. Keeping her eyes firmly locked with his, she reached for the fly of her jeans and tugged.
The gentle rasp of metal teeth letting go sounded as loud as a sonic boom in his ears. When she rolled her hips, dropping the denim to the ground he understood just what kind of appeal Eve must have had in the Garden of Eden. Willow was surrounded by the lush green and deep brown, making her skin glow in the pale light.
Slowly, she reached for her hair, letting it tumble down to her shoulders. It brushed against the peaks of her breasts, making his mouth water for the taste of her again.
In one quick burst of motion he was in front of her, his hands filled with as much as he could take. He hadn’t even formed the thought to move before they were twined together again.
Her hands tugged at his clothes, pulling his shirt from his shoulders and dropping his jeans to the ground. Somehow they found their way down to the soft layer of grass at their feet.
The scent of jasmine mixed with something wholly Willow. Somewhere in the frenzy, Dev found that elusive moment of tranquility. He brushed the hair back from her face and stared deep into her bright eyes. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to, he could see her clearly, maybe more clearly than anyone else ever had.
She was a mix of so many things, passion and distrust, reluctance and hope, ambition and creativity. She let him in, stripping away every barrier she had. And he was grateful for the gift.
Dev reached between their entwined bodies and found the hot warmth of her sex. He delved deep inside and relished the way her eyelids fluttered with the pleasure of his touch, but she wouldn’t break the connection.
The Devil She Knows Page 14