Jenna let Devon pull her along, seeing as how she was not only ethically confused, but totally unfamiliar with this part of the city. She hoped he knew where to go. The confidence of his movements and the strength of his grip gave her hope.
They darted around crowds, and he gave her a playful grin as they slipped into one of the shops. Inside, a waif-like, surprised woman nearly backed into a display of essential oils when they rushed past her. Devon headed straight for the back door. Once they were out, he didn’t pause. He hurried down the alley, pulling Jenna into a narrow indentation in the brick wall.
They huddled in close, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. For a second the only sounds she heard were Devon’s heart thumping against her ear, and their ragged breaths. Then she heard the slam of the shop door hitting the alley wall. The confused cries of the young girls and the shuffling of feet followed closely behind. It sounded like they were going the other direction. Then it was quiet. She closed her eyes, feeling Devon’s warm breath against her hair as she tried to regain control of her own frenzied breathing.
Jenna stood there for a moment, knowing that since the threat had passed she should let go. Instead, her fingers tightened around Devon’s hips. She looked up at him, her cheek scraping his rough chin. She could have sworn his golden-brown eyes had turned richer, darker, as he leaned toward her. The hopeful look she’d often seen in them was gone, replaced by an intense desire.
Her chin tilted up higher, and she found herself staring at the curves of his lips. In that moment she’d forgotten all the reasons it was a bad idea to let Devon Ward suck her in. She gave in to the current, slowly letting herself be pulled toward him.
His lips brushed hers lightly. Then his hands were on her face, and her fingers were locked around his hair. She heard the rasp of Devon’s breath as he leaned in again, pressing his lips firmly against hers, tasting every part of them, like a true gourmand. As she pressed him back against the brick wall, she found the answer to the question what’s it like to kiss Devon Ward. The answer was a word she’d used too lightly in the crêperie. Bliss.
The shop door slammed one more time, and they froze. Jenna’s eyes widened as she stared at Devon. She collected herself, smoothing her blouse as she came to her senses. Devon straightened too, running his hands over his suit. He smiled at her apologetically, but she noted a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
The sound of footsteps shuffling through dry leaves reached them. The footsteps came closer, and their faces turned to see the shop woman, concern on her make-up-free face as she held a bottle toward them.
“Ylang-ylang and lavender.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Your auras say you need some serious relaxation.” Then she stopped, tipping her head as she studied them. “Oh. Never mind.” She gave them a satisfied smile and walked away.
She and Devon looked at each other, their lips twitching. The whole thing was rather ridiculous, now that she thought about it. All that over a few photographs, which had probably already been taken? They’d run as if their lives had depended on it. She doubled over, laughter spilling out. Devon’s deep laughter followed. She turned to see him lean his back up against the brick, one hand resting on his forehead.
Chapter 14
Devon
Devon pulled up to Anita’s place. He hurried out of the car, smoothing his rumpled shirt, then he pulled several shopping totes from the back seat. At the front door he paused, working up his courage to press the doorbell. The last time he’d seen Jenna, they’d made out in an alley behind an essential oils boutique. Afterwards, Jenna had made it pretty clear that the incident had been a mistake, but it hadn’t felt that way to him. Kissing her reminded him of when he’d stepped off the plane in France: nervous, excited, ready to pursue his passion.
Of course, it had been a lot more exhilarating than that. The way she’d kissed him had rendered him unable to think of much else. It was just the only way he could explain how right it felt. Jenna was unlike any other woman he’d dated. She was genuine, she was honest, she was good. And she was probably right to consider kissing him a mistake.
It wasn’t just the kiss that kept his finger hovering over the bell, though. He was nervous about cooking for Jenna and her mom. He hadn’t cooked for anyone since he’d come back to the States. He’d thought he’d left the person he was behind and become a new one, one he didn’t like—at least until he’d met Jenna. Now he wondered if he could start fresh, take the best parts of who he was, and combine them with who he wanted to be, like making a good Kentucky brown with Thanksgiving leftovers.
Finally he pressed the bell. When Jenna opened the door in a blue dress, her hair falling loose over her shoulders, he nearly stumbled backwards as everything he’d felt in the alley came rushing back to him. Jenna had a way of looking stunning and casual at the same time, like it wasn’t any effort at all. He knew women who spent hours at the salon to look like that. He searched her face for some clue about how she felt about him, about their moment together. She gave him a careful, guarded smile that told him all he needed to know. She wished it hadn’t happened.
“Are you going to come in?”
“Sure. I was just noticing what a stunning color your aura was today.” Jenna laughed, blushing a little, and Devon hurried to the kitchen, eager to put down the heavy bags.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you downtown today,” Jenna said, following him. “It’s just, since the move, I haven’t been able to spend enough time with Mom.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing it wasn’t enough. “I’m going to get you a car.”
She stiffened. “You certainly are not.”
Devon sighed. “It’s a company car, since you are currently working for me. It’s just a loan, we do it all the time. Besides, this is all my fault.” He’d wanted to offer sooner. He just hadn’t wanted to make her dig her heels in any further. He hoped they’d made enough progress that she’d let him fix every single thing he or his company had managed to mess up.
“I’ll think about it.” She nibbled at her lip. “I didn’t mean to—I miss spending time with her, but she seems happy here. So I’m happy. It just an adjustment.”
Devon frowned at the hint of sadness in her voice. He didn’t regret helping Anita, of course, but he regretted not letting Jenna in on the decision. Even if she had resisted, they would have figured something out. They both knew Anita deserved it. “No chance you’d want to move in here?”
Jenna crossed her arms. “That neighborhood is keeping my feet firmly in reality right now. So I don’t get swept away by all of your promises and charm and—and fancy crêpes.”
A grin spread across Devon’s face. “You think I’m charming?”
Jenna’s eyes wouldn’t meet his. Their kiss only seemed to have given her new determination to draw boundaries. And she was right to do it. He was pretty sure that whole situation with the fan-girls and photographers had been orchestrated by Charles and Peyton to get more photos of them together. Even though he’d had nothing to do with it, he felt grimy by association, and by his initial agreement to use her.
“You just need to know that even though I’m agreeing to work with you on this, I haven’t forgotten the harm your company has done to thousands like us. I’m not letting it go,” she said, her voice hard. “No matter how much money you give to charity.”
Devon held back a sigh. “I’m not asking you to.”
Jenna tipped her head, narrowing her eyes. “You’re not?”
“No. I’m just asking for a truce for a few more hours. We’ll eat some curry and then I can help you make picket signs if you want.”
Her lip twitched as if she were trying not to laugh, but her brows remained arched as she stared him down. “Fine. Just a couple more hours. But I have something else in mind for after dinner.”
“You do?” He gave her an over-exaggerated smile.
She shook her head, laughing as she glared. “Not even for a billion dollars.” She walk
ed into the kitchen, peeking into the bags. “So did you learn to cook this in India?”
“No, England. They love their curry over there, although I’m not sure mine is very traditional.” Devon made himself at home as he rooted through the cupboards and drawers for supplies. Luckily, he’d had excellent cookware purchased along with the house.
He pulled out a cutting board and a sharp knife, and started chopping onion.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Jenna said, moving closer to watch.
“Yeah, chopping’s one of the first things they teach you, because it makes you look better than you are.” He smiled.
Jenna started pulling ingredients from the bags. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“What are you talking about?” she said. “You’re the food snob.”
“Guilty.” He took a stick of butter from her hand, and lopped a chunk off into a hot pan. “I have to admit, I’m cheating a little tonight. I bought pre-cooked chicken and naan, to save time.”
He wiped a tear from his stinging eye with his sleeve as he dropped the onion in the pan. It sizzled, and the scent of warm butter and browning onion drifted toward them.
“I hate to see a grown man cry,” she said. “Don’t worry, I won’t dock you too much for the shortcut.”
“Mmmm.” Anita shuffled into the kitchen. Devon smiled, seeing her up and about, looking so relaxed and happy. “Where’s Susan, and what’s that I smell?”
“I gave her the night off, and Devon’s making us curry.”
“It’s more of a butter chicken, actually,” he said. “Although right now it’s just onions and butter.”
“It smells divine already. My mother taught me that if you hadn’t figured out what was for dinner by the time your old man got home from work, you should just put a little butter and onion in the pan to trick him into thinking dinner was on its way.” She laughed. “Nowadays I suppose you’d just toss him his phone and tell him to order his own dang dinner.” Anita looked back and forth between the two of them. She held up a paperback. “Well, I’m only a few chapters away from the hard-headed main characters finally giving it a rest and admitting they love each other, so I’ll be back out when it’s ready.” She smiled and disappeared into her room.
Devon hadn’t missed Anita’s hint, and from the embarrassed look on Jenna’s face, he guessed she hadn’t either. He busied himself by popping a head of garlic apart, deftly peeling off the papery exterior. “I can’t wait to tell you about our progress with charitable donations,” he said, just as eager to find a new topic of conversation.
Jenna found an empty spot, and pulled herself onto the counter, letting her legs dangle. Her dress caught on her thigh, and it took a good deal of effort for Devon to pull himself back to chopping garlic. It was difficult enough not to think about the feel of her lips on his or her fingers tangled up in his hair with her this close.
“Let’s hear it.”
“Remember, we talked about that NeighborWorks program? The one that gives aid for education and purchasing homes? It’s a go.”
He looked over to see Jenna’s face light up before scraping the garlic into the pan and giving it a stir.
“I’ve also convinced them to start up new programs for employees. They’re going to get paid leave a couple of days a year to volunteer, and they can apply to spend several weeks working with a non-profit organization if they choose.”
“That’s wonderful.”
He stared at her, enjoying the look of joy that radiated from her face. “It’s all because of you,” he said quietly.
She blushed, looking away. “I think you had a thing or two to do with it.”
“But only because you showed me that I was being a schmuck.”
“I wouldn’t say—”
“Of course you would. That’s what I like about you,” he said, sprinkling garam masala into the pan. “You’re not afraid to say what you think, or to fight for what you believe in.” He looked away, grabbing the tub of curry paste. “Anyway, it’s just a start. They’re all patting themselves on the back right now, letting the world know how generous TrueLife is.” He turned, grinning. “They don’t know we’re not done yet. I can’t wait to see Chuck’s face when I tell him about the next phase.”
“Do you think they’ll fight you on it?”
“I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve asserted my authority. I guess I’m about to find out if they really want to hear from me or if they just want me to stand there and look pretty.”
Jenna reached over and pinched his cheek, grinning. “But you do it so well.”
Devon rubbed at his cheek, surprised at her touch.
“Sorry, it’s just so exciting.” Jenna blushed, hopping down from the counter. She headed to the living room, and moments later Indian music was playing. She inhaled deeply. “With the spices and the music, I have the full effect. I can almost pretend I’m in India.”
He turned around to see her shuffling around, waving her arms gracefully. “I learned this from a movie. Tali and I practiced until we got it right. We love those big Bollywood dance numbers.”
Devon found himself swaying from side to side, trying to mimic her movements.
“No, like this.” She laughed, demonstrating more slowly, rocking her hips back and forth.
Devon tried to follow along, but even if he was a dancer, he’d be too distracted by the way Jenna moved to figure it out. He had the urge to drop everything and take her in his arms, swaying along with her to the music, whether he had any idea how to do it properly or not. “Sorry.” He turned around to hide his embarrassment, grabbing the tomato sauce and coconut milk. “My only dancing experience consists of the waltz lessons my mother made me take, and an occasional slow dance at a party.”
“That’s too bad,” she said. “Maybe someday. Someday I’ll go to India, and someday you’ll dance like a Bollywood movie star.” Then she was standing at his elbow. “I know I said I wanted to stay grounded, but getting swept away by all the possibilities is kind of tempting. Lately there are moments when those maybe somedays feel real enough to reach out and grab.”
He turned to look at her, surprised to see her big blue eyes looking into his, and even more surprised to see her looking so vulnerable.
“So reach out. Grab,” he said, feeling himself lean toward her, and she leaned in a little too.
“I know you have good reason to distrust me,” he said, “but I hope I can earn at least enough of your trust to make you believe I’m here for the right reasons.”
“Which are?” she asked softly.
“To learn how to make the world a better place. That includes your world. So have you had time to dream yet?”
An embarrassed smile spread over her face. “Actually, this work we’re doing with the charities, it’s so fulfilling. I think I’d like to do something like that.”
“Then do it,” he said firmly. “Quit your job and let’s make this a full-time arrangement.”
Her mouth opened, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’d need training. I don’t even have a college degree. I can’t just walk into a company like yours and act like I belong there, like I earned it.”
“So we’ll look into it, see what kind of education you’ll need. I’ll take care of the cost.”
Her expression hardened a little, and she looked away. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Why? You’re worth it. I—I mean, you’re passionate, and very capable. It would be an investment.”
“When you make it all personal like that ...” Jenna said, smiling, with sarcasm in her tone. Still, she looked unconvinced. “I’ll think about it.”
“I understand you don’t want to take things from me, but I already told you, you’ve done me a huge favor. I’ve learned I can run my father’s company in my own way, a way that makes me happy. The company owes you too. Not to sound all corporate cold about it, but the charity work is going to give us good PR,
so everyone wins.”
“I already told you, I’m not going to back down on my criticism of TrueLife,” she said, the edge back in her voice. “Taking money from you, separate from my mother’s care, taking an official job from you, that would be a definite conflict of interests.”
“I thought we were calling a temporary truce.” He clenched his jaw and turned to stir the sauce, which was already sticking to the bottom of the pan. He couldn’t keep pretending that he wasn’t attracted to Jenna. She was captivating, and not just because of her soulful blue eyes or the graceful way she moved. She was the kind of person who’d always find something to give to someone in need, even if she had nothing.
He knew he’d never deserve a woman like that. But every once in a while he’d fool himself into thinking that she actually felt something for him. Then she’d level him with a hard dose of reality. What did he expect? That she’d fall for a man whose company she believed had knowingly put her family through years of pain?
He turned back to look at her. He had half-a-mind to tell her whatever she wanted to hear, anything that would make her stop looking at him like she was looking at him now. But he couldn’t do that. He had to give her the truth.
“When my father was building TrueLife he wasn’t around for anything. I’d always get the old your-father-is-making-the-world-a-better-place speech. He’s helping people who are sick. It was simplified, but it was the best way to explain to a kid why his father was never home for a birthday or showed up for a ball game or a graduation.”
Jenna’s lips turned down, her eyes softening.
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, I’m just trying to explain that he gave his everything to that company. He certainly didn’t give it to us. TrueLife was created to bring relief to the suffering, and peace of mind to their families.” He’d heard and repeated that line a million times. “I mean, not our family, but other families. I have to believe that’s true.”
Battling the Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance Page 8