by Sandra Field
He might not know much about marriage or feelings, but he’d finally figured that one out. She was right. Trust was basic.
The traffic was surprisingly heavy for so late at night. To Jared’s overstrained imagination, it felt as though they were crawling along more slowly than he could walk. But why was he in a hurry? All that was waiting for him was an empty house, barren of clues to Devon’s whereabouts.
He’d blown it. He, Jared Holt, head of Holt Incorporated, hadn’t been able to hold onto his wife of less than two months. She’d run away from him, and she wasn’t playing games. He knew Devon well enough for that.
His passionate, beautiful Devon.
Pain lanced through his chest. How could he have been so goddamned stupid? He was renowned for his quick intelligence, his instant grasp of any situation, his ability to make the right decision. But when it came to Devon, he’d behaved with as much subtlety as a four-year-old in a toy store.
The taxi was finally gathering speed along the boulevard by the golf course. Jared said through the connecting window, “Take the first turnoff after the clubhouse. It’s the second driveway on the left.”
They took the corner too fast, the tires screeching. Jared pulled out his wallet, checking the meter and extracting a bill. Then the cabbie said, “The house where all the police cars are? Looks like you got yourself a bit of trouble.”
Jared glanced up. His heart gave an uncomfortable thump as he heard the wail of sirens and saw three police cruisers parked in his driveway, the flashing red and blue lights casting surreal shadows over the clipped yews. He thrust the bill through the window, said, “Keep the change,” and grabbed his bag. Then he was out of the cab and running toward the front door. A police officer stepped out from behind the nearest cruiser to intercept him. “Excuse me, sir, you can’t go in there.”
Jared said roughly, “It’s my house—what’s going on?”
“Couple of burglars, sir. We’ve apprehended two of them, but we’re just checking in case there are more.”
For the first time Jared noticed two men standing by one of the cruisers, both of them handcuffed. “They were in the house?”
“Yes, sir. Are you Jared Holt?”
Jared nodded. “The security system must have alerted you, right?”
“No, sir. The alarm was given by an occupant—”
Jared’s heart gave another huge lurch. “No one’s home. My wife’s—away.”
“I believe a woman gave the alarm, sir. Dialed 911.”
“From this house? Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. She—”
In cold terror, Jared snapped, “Where is she?”
“We’re not quite sure yet, sir. We’re about to—”
“For God’s sake, man, don’t just stand there, we’ve got to find her!” As he took two impetuous steps toward the house, the officer grabbed him by the elbow. Jared snarled, “You can come with me, or I’m going in alone. And heaven help anyone who gets in my way.”
The officer, who looked about nineteen, yelled out some instructions to one of the other policemen. As Jared leaped up the front steps and burst through the front door, the young officer was at his heels. “Upstairs,” Jared said tersely. “Did the woman leave her name?”
“No, sir.”
It had to be Devon. It had to be. So where was she? As Jared took the big staircase two steps at a time, nightmare images crowded his brain. Devon raped. Knocked unconscious. Lying dead in a pool of blood.
Every cell in his body screamed out against this. She couldn’t be dead. Not his vibrant, generous Devon. She couldn’t be…he couldn’t bear it.
He was the one who’d left her alone here.
The master bedroom was empty, the drawers pulled out just as he’d left them. No one had slept in the bed. Feeling his veins coagulate with ice, Jared shouted, “Devon? Are you up here? It’s safe now—you can come out.”
“Over there, sir.”
Then Jared heard it, too: a scrabbling from one of the guest rooms, and then the voice he’d been frantic to hear: Devon’s voice, weak with relief. “Jared? Is it really you?”
“The police are with me—open the door.”
Wood scraped on wood. She said breathlessly, “It’s so heavy, I’m not sure I can—there it goes.” Then Jared heard the sound of the bolt being drawn, and the door opened.
She was wearing her blue silk robe over her nightgown; her eyes were huge, her face as pale as the white sheets on the bed behind her. Her knuckles were also white, where she was gripping the doorframe, gripping it as though she might fall down otherwise, Jared thought. He took three steps toward her and took her in his arms, pressing her to his chest, his whole body overwhelmed with gratitude and joy and some other emotion new to him, as powerful as the ocean tides and as sure of itself as the heat of the sun.
“Thank God you’re safe,” he said huskily.
She was trembling very lightly all over. As another officer joined the first one for a rapid search from room to room, Jared simply held Devon, certain that he held heaven in his arms. He’d been granted a reprieve, he thought. And this time there’d be no mistakes. He was going to do it right.
Against her hair, he said, “Get dressed—we’ll go to a hotel.”
“I hate this house,” she muttered.
“I should never have left you here. Where are your clothes?”
She pushed back from his arms, not meeting his eyes. “In the room…I won’t be a minute.”
The next thirty minutes felt like forever to Jared. Apparently there’d only been the two burglars, neither of whom Jared or Devon had ever seen before. Devon answered the young officer’s questions from the circle of Jared’s arm, because he wasn’t sure he was ever going to let go of her. Then the two of them were driven downtown in a police cruiser, to a luxury hotel belonging to one of Jared’s worldwide chains. In the top floor suite, the bellboy put their luggage down and Jared tipped him. Finally the door closed and Jared was alone with his wife.
She was wearing overalls and a green sweater; she looked exhausted and deeply uncertain of herself, the soft light from the nearest lamp shadowing her cheekbones and lingering in her long blond hair. As always, her beauty infiltrated every nerve in Jared’s body, as primal and profound as his relief that he’d found her and that she was safe. But now that they were alone, he had no idea what to say to her. What to say or what to do.
How long was it since he’d made love with her? It felt like forever; but although he longed to take her in his arms again, something stopped him. She was fiddling with the strap of her shoulder bag; she said so quietly that he had to strain to hear her, “Jared, why did you come back to the house tonight?”
“I was looking for you,” he said bluntly.
Unsmiling, making no move to touch him, she said, “Why?”
She had, with her usual directness, gone right to the heart of the matter. He fumbled for the right words, the ones that would convince her never to run away again, and opted for the simple truth. “I had to. No choice.”
“Because I’ve embarrassed you? Because you can’t bear to lose—especially to a woman?” She raised her chin defiantly. “Aren’t you supposed to be in San Francisco? On business?”
“Yes. But I had something much more important to do. Find my wife.” Then Jared took a deep breath and said the words that had been forcing their way to the surface ever since Wallace had read her letter to him in Texas. The only words that counted. The true words. “I love you.”
He heard his own voice speak them, those three small words he’d never thought he’d ever say to a woman, and watched shock freeze Devon’s features. Shock, not joy.
She still didn’t trust him. Worse, maybe she didn’t love him anymore.
“It’s true,” he said, standing his ground, knowing he was fighting for his life, and that if he lost this battle then he himself was lost. “You had to run away for me to understand what you meant to me… I’ve never slept with Lise, Devon. Not o
nce in all the months I’ve known her. She and I met up in Singapore two years ago, when she was on tour. That was when those photos were taken—you’ve got to believe me!”
“What do you think I’m doing in Vancouver?” Devon said. “Why do you think I came back?”
Jared shook his head like a man stunned. He was losing his grip, he thought. It hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder. “My turn to ask why.”
“I was having tea at The Empress—”
“How did you get to Victoria? Did you fly?”
“Took the bus. Changed my clothes at the train station.” For the first time a faint smile lifted Devon’s mouth. “Agent 007 had better look to his laurels, don’t you think?”
“You really didn’t want me to find you.”
“Of course I didn’t. Adultery’s a horrible word. But while I was having tea I overheard a conversation that made me contrast you with Lise. I decided she was the one I shouldn’t trust… But if you weren’t with Lise, Jared, why wouldn’t you take me to Singapore?”
“Because I didn’t understand what loving a woman meant,” he said, stepping closer and very gently stroking a strand of hair back from her face. “I never thought I’d fall in love, Devon, I’ve told you that. It wasn’t in the cards. But ever since Wallace read your letter to me I’ve broken every rule in the book. Daniels finished off the rest of the board meeting in Texas, and Gregson’s covering San Francisco for me. I’m finally learning how to delegate, in other words. And guess what? The world hasn’t come to an end.”
She was standing statue-still. He said, hearing desperation roughen his voice, “I love you, Devon. I want you to share my life—and that means all of it. Including the crises in Singapore and the board meetings in Texas.” He took a deep breath, wondering what he’d do if she said no. “I’m supposed to open a new hotel in Australia next month—will you come with me?”
“You really do love me?” she asked in a small voice.
“That was what I was trying to tell you every time we went to bed…even though I didn’t know it myself. But my body knew. We were making love, Devon, you were right.” He smiled at her. “Yes, I love you. More than words can say…it might take the rest of my life to show you how much.”
Tears filled her eyes, clinging to her lashes. “I’m not dreaming?”
And finally Jared did what he’d been needing to do ever since they’d walked into the hotel. He took her in his arms, holding her close, rediscovering with a shock of wonder her warmth and softness. “I’m real,” he said huskily. “Dearest Devon, I love you so much.”
Two tears spilled over. “I’ve come home, then,” Devon said and lifted her face to his. “Home is with you, wherever you are. It’s that simple.”
He wiped the moisture from her cheekbone. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“I’m so happy, that’s why I’m crying.” Her smile was brilliant, a rainbow through rain. “Don’t you see? We love each other—so we have a real marriage. We’re not trapped anymore, either one of us, we’re free instead.”
“You always were wiser than me,” he said, and bent his head to kiss her. Then he took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom, where he undressed her in total silence, his hands not quite steady.
They made love with a slow and passionate intensity, every touch, every caress suffused with feeling. And when it was over Devon wept again, and Jared’s throat was so tight he could only hold her and marvel at his happiness. “I love you,” he whispered; now that he’d said it once, he was convinced he’d never be able to say it often enough.
“I feel so well loved, so safe,” she murmured. “You know, Lise did us a favor in a way.”
He gave a choked laugh. “I suppose she did. Shall we invite her to the christening?”
“Why not?” Devon pressed his hand to her belly. “Jared, our baby will be one of the lucky ones. Because its parents love each other.”
“I knew what I was doing when I insisted we got married…I just went about it all the wrong way. Now that I look back, I loved you from the first moment I saw you,” he said. “Scowling at me in that hideous green suit.”
She chuckled. “I thought you were the butler.”
“You know what’s so wonderful?” Jared added. “That you love me for myself…not for my money.”
“I love you because you’re so stubborn and so sexy.”
“Sexy?” he said innocently, running a hand down her body to nestle between her thighs.
“Also insatiable—Jared, stop it!”
He leaned on one elbow, openly laughing at her. “You really want me to stop?”
She moved her hips very suggestively. “I suppose we do have to make up for lost time…do you know why else I love you? Because you came looking for me.”
“You did, too. You decided to trust me, and came home.” He hesitated. “I’d like to sell the Vancouver house, Devon. Let’s get a place in the country somewhere outside New York. A real home, one we choose together.”
“With the children in mind,” she said, and wound her arms around his neck.
“Sounds good to me,” said Jared. “How many?”
“At least two,” she said, her eyes dancing. “After all, we have a duty to keep your father and my mother in grandchildren.”
“Your first duty,” Jared growled, nuzzling his lips to her breast, “is to pay attention to what I’m doing.”
“Oh, that’s not a duty, Jared,” Devon said. “That’s a pleasure. Trust me.”
EPILOGUE
SIX months later, standing in the warm midsummer sunshine that streamed through the window, Devon watched as Jared stooped to put Bruce Jared Holt back in the cradle. Jared’s big hands were very gentle, and in the last few weeks he’d gotten over his initial fears that the baby would break if he as much as picked him up. Carefully Jared drew the covers up to the baby’s chin, an expression on his face that made her melt inside.
Jared loved his son. She’d seen that from the very first time her husband had held the baby, only five minutes after the birth; the look on Jared’s carved features that day, compounded of awe and joy and tenderness, had brought tears to her eyes.
She’d just fed the baby. His dark lashes wavered over his deep blue eyes, then closed altogether; his wisps of hair looked very black in contrast to the white coverlet. She bent to tuck it in at the foot of the carved wooden cradle, hearing the soft pad of bare feet come up behind her on the burnished pine flooring. Jared slid his hands around her waist. “He looks fat and happy,” Jared said.
“And utterly beautiful,” she responded contentedly.
“Never as beautiful as his mother.”
Devon turned in the circle of his arms. “But I haven’t really got my figure back yet, and—”
Jared closed her mouth with his lips. A satisfactory interval later, he said huskily, “Darling Devon, you could be nine months pregnant with septuplets and I’d still think you were the most beautiful creature on earth—have you got that straight?”
Her six-weeks checkup had been just yesterday; while it had been sheer heaven to make love to Jared again in their big bed last night, Devon had still worried that he might not care for the inevitable alterations in her body. “Truly?” she said.
“Truly.” He nuzzled her throat. “Come back to bed, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you. Once again.”
“We can’t be too long—Benson and Alicia are arriving today.”
Jared chuckled, smoothing the swell of Devon’s hips under her silk gown. “It’s only their third visit since Bruce was born.”
“I don’t know which one of them’s worse—your father or my mother.”
“Besotted, both of them.” Jared looked around. “They like the house, too, of course.”
“The house has nothing to do with it!”
“You like it, though, don’t you, Devon?”
“I adore it,” she said honestly.
They’d bought a restored eighteenth-century farmhouse on two hund
red acres of rolling countryside only an hour from Manhattan on the interstate. The house came complete with barns and meadows and a network of horse trails; Rajah and Starlight were already in residence, gifts from Benson before Bruce had been born. The house was spacious, combining old-world charm with a sense of welcome that Devon had responded to from the first moment they’d walked in the door. She added, wrinkling her nose at her husband, “It’s as different from the Vancouver place as it could be. And I’ve always wanted a fireplace in the bedroom.”
“Even when you’ve got me?” he growled.
“Yep.” She laced her hands around his neck, smiling into his dark eyes, so like his son’s. “Did I tell you yet today that I love you?”
“You said you adored the house. But I don’t recall you mentioning me.”
“I adore you, too.” Her eyes shining, she added softly, “Jared, I didn’t know anyone could be as happy as I am now.”
A muscle tightened in his jaw. With a humility new to him, he asked, “I really do make you happy?”
“Of course you do.”
“No of course about it…for a long time I didn’t.”
“Oh, Jared, that’s behind us now. Look at the changes we’ve made! A house we both love. A perfectly gorgeous son. And—” she gave him a saucy grin “—at last you’ve learned to delegate.”
“Daniels in charge on the east coast, Gregson on the west, and Holt Incorporated, I hate to admit it, is flourishing east and west.”
Devon laughed. “Not only that, but you’ve got the world’s best lawyer working for you, too!”
“Of course I have.”
Devon didn’t just mean in terms of traveling on business with Jared, although certainly she’d done some of that in the last few months. More importantly, he was gradually sharing with her more and more of the complex decisions he made every day, and to her delight was consulting her frequently on points of international law, so much so that she was thinking of doing some post-graduate work once Bruce was a little older. She said, “I’ve become your wife in all ways. And I love it.”