Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2)

by Laurie LeClair

  Patting his son on the shoulder, he said, “Sure did. I don’t know what I’d have done without you last night and today.”

  His heart swelled at the huge grin splitting Sean’s face. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Well, I guess this is it, then. Any last words of advice for your old man?” He expected a laugh in return, but when the boyish features suddenly turned grim Devon’s internal alarm system reacted in warning.

  “Ah…I know you aren’t used to actually living with someone…a woman, that is.”

  The topic of conversation struck Devon as funny. “And you are?”

  He shot Devon one of those ‘get real’ looks, and then said, “Hello, I’ve only lived with one for the last eleven and a half years.”

  Chuckling, he admitted the truth of that statement. “All right, round one goes to you.”

  That brought a smile to his son’s face. Sean dug a hand into his pants pocket, and then withdrew a folded piece of yellow paper. He passed it to Devon. “Here, I wrote down all the things I could think of that mom likes.”

  Opening the stationary, he asked, “You’re giving me pointers?”

  The way his son rolled his eyes caught Devon’s attention. “It’s like in the olden days when guys courted, I think that’s the word, girls, you know, so they’d impress them. Dad, you gotta do that to mom. Geez, don’t you know anything about women?”

  “Apparently not.” Skimming the long list he registered the first three items: candy, perfume, flowers. “Yeah, she always loved flowers. Even talked about having a greenhouse someday.” His mind whirled with the thought. “We could build her one.”

  “Really? You’d do that for her? And let me help?”

  Gazing at his son’s awed expression, Devon smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  “Cool.”

  Going back to the list, he halted abruptly at the fourth item. “Romance?”

  “Yeah, she may not say it, but she really likes that one.” He leaned closer as if confiding a secret, saying, “You pick up these things when you live with a woman.”

  Devon had all he could do not to laugh out loud at his son. “You sure you’re not really an adult masquerading as a kid?”

  “Come on, Dad, get serious, will ya? This is important stuff to learn.”

  “And why am I learning this again?”

  Sean shook his head as if he was speaking to a foreigner who didn’t understand a thing. “So we can be a happy family. For mom all you gotta do is make her happy. See, guys like simple things. You know, a place to sleep, junk food, a cool car, and a girl. Women are more complicated.”

  Stunned wonder swept over Devon. “Are you sure you’re only eleven?”

  ***

  At five minutes to the hour, Devon stood rooted to his designated spot at the makeshift altar in the freshly painted, formal living room of his home. In the semi-filled flower bedecked space a half dozen guests sat expectantly. His gaze skimmed over Gil, and then Jewel’s two beauty salon business partners and their families who he had met when they arrived earlier.

  By his side, Sean elbowed him. “Did I remember to put bubble baths on the list?”

  Grinning, Devon nodded.

  “Phew! I thought I missed that one.”

  A fluff of gray raced by his peripheral vision. “Hey, I thought you put the cat out.”

  “Geez, I did. He must have found a way back in again.”

  A man clearing his throat behind Devon had him twisting sharply. He relaxed when he spotted the balding, heavyset minister. Holding out his hand, he said, “Reverend Duffy, I’m glad you could do this for us.”

  The round face beamed as he shook Devon’s hand. “Well, son, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Waving an arm to encompass the property, he said, “This is a lot different than the first time I performed the ceremony for you and your bride, isn’t it?”

  You mean I’m a lot different, don’t you? I was poor then. “Things have changed.”

  “For the better, I see. Well, I think we’re ready to begin, if you are.” He turned to his rosy-cheeked wife at the organ. “All right, dear.”

  Let the show begin.

  Strains of the wedding march floated to him. Getting in position, with Sean beside him, Devon gazed at the empty archway. Seconds ticked by and still no one came into sight. Some of the guests shifted uncomfortably. A few hushed whispers drifted his way.

  The tie around his neck seemed to tighten by degrees, choking off his air supply. The knot on his forehead throbbed to life, pulsing shafts of pain through his head. When she still didn’t show, a cold sheen of sweat bathed his body.

  What seemed to him like hours later, but, in fact, were mere minutes, Jewel appeared. His heart skipped a beat. Standing in the entranceway, in a creamy white suit that revealed her long, shapely legs and with her glossy, black hair piled on her head, she stole the breath from his lungs.

  She didn’t move. Devon frowned. Narrowing his eyes, he detected the slight tremor in her hands as she held the bouquet of flowers. Swiftly, he focused on her colorless complexion, and then her wide-eyed gaze. Pure terror resided there. Slowly, she inched backward, away from the room, away from him.

  She’s bolting! His heart plummeted to his knees.

  Chapter 7

  The last hour had stretched unbearably. Jewel kept her eyes closed as Devon drove down the highway, skillfully maneuvering the sports car at a high speed.

  The small intimate interior of the Corvette pulsed with tension. The mixture of his clean fresh scent and the buttery leather seat cradling her crowded her senses.

  The feel of his occasional heated glances stirred a combination of desire and anticipation. But a part of her feared the expected confrontation. It was only a matter of time before he questioned her.

  Clasping her hands in her lap, aware of the gold band circling her finger, she prayed for the right answers. Will he understand my actions, my reasons? No, I hurt him…again. His icy, standoffish demeanor since their encounter in the house proved telling. The impersonal peck on her cheek spoke volumes. But it had been the wounded look in his gaze that twisted her heart and made her berate herself for being such a fool. If I could only take it back.

  He downshifted, easing on the accelerator. Suddenly, his large, warm hand covered her clasped one. She jumped, opening her eyes and twisting to him.

  A rueful grin inched up a corner of his mouth, sending a swift rush of warmth clear to her toes. “Any more of that and you wouldn’t have any blood left in them.”

  Releasing her breath slowly, she shot him a weak smile. Jewel forced herself to relax, loosening her grip under the welcome weight of his hand.

  Withdrawing his touch, he said, “You’d think I was going to beat you or something.”

  Sadness strummed to life at the distance, at the awkwardness. “You’re not?”

  He jerked his head to her, obviously sensing her distress. “I’ve never hit a woman in my life. I don’t intend to start now.”

  “No matter how much I hurt you, right?”

  “I’ll heal.” The vow sounded hollow as it rattled around the small enclosure. He paused. “I should thank you for going through with it after all.”

  Robbed of speech, she searched his profile. He gave nothing away. Frowning, she said, “But, you had to come get me.”

  Shrugging stiffly, he said, “You just backed up a couple of inches.”

  “And nearly called the whole thing off.” She shuttered at the weak part of herself. “You didn’t say a word, didn’t force me or anything. All you did was hold out your hand…”

  “And you took it. Why?” The tightness in his voice gave a great deal away.

  Dragging in a deep, shaky breath, she turned her head to look out the passenger window. Guardrails and trees whizzed by in a blur. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

  Peeking at him over her shoulder, she said, “Sean.”

  He laughed, catching her by sur
prise. “Well, why do you think I went through with it? Listen, dollface, I don’t know about you but it certainly takes a heck of a lot longer to jump into marriage than one week.”

  Easing back into her seat, she marveled at this side of him, the Devon she’d known so long ago. Playing along, she pointed out, “If you remember correctly, it took us months to decide the first time.”

  “For our son’s sake I’m glad we did. At least he wasn’t born a bastard.”

  And that’s so important to you. “Nobody ever knew about our secret marriage except us, Devon.”

  A muscle twitched along his clenched jaw. “That’s all about to change.”

  Alarmed, she asked, “How so?”

  “The papers. I made sure the announcement explained that it was a renewal of vows and I added our original wedding date.” He shrugged stiffly. “Reverend Duffy and his wife will back it up and I’ve given Gil a copy of the first license.”

  “You think of everything.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “I try.” His was equally laced with mockery. Blowing out a breath, he said, “It’s for Sean’s well-being. I don’t want him to go through what I did, at least not any more. All right, I admit, I’m joining the game a little behind schedule, but it’s not too late to fix things for him.”

  How can I argue with him when he’s only trying to help Sean? In the back of her mind, she allowed a doubt to form. Was he only concerned about Sean? Seeing the two of them together Jewel had witnessed the adoration beaming from both her son and her husband. There was no denying the instant bond they had formed.

  But there’s something else involved, his family’s redemption. Please don’t let Sean find out. Don’t let Devon hurt our son.

  Chasing the disturbing thought aside, she focused on the positive aspect of what he’d done. She’d deal with the rest if or when the time came.

  Tentatively, she reached over and touched the back of his hand as it rested on his thigh. “Thank you,” she choked out, feeling the huge burden of raising a child alone lifted from her spirit; she knew whatever happened between them, Devon would never abandon his own flesh and blood. Look what he was still trying to do for his dead father.

  Turning his large hand over, he clasped hers gently, engulfing hers in heat and tenderness. “He’s a great kid.”

  The wealth of emotion coloring his declaration told her more than his simple words did. She covered her own swell of overwhelming feelings, by saying, “Of course he is. He looks like you and acts like me, what’s not great about that?”

  He chuckled, long and hearty, warming the wintry regions in her core. Lacing his fingers through hers, he tightened his hold. Matching invisible pressure squeezed her heart. Don’t let me fall for this guy, she prayed while memorizing every endearing laugh line on his handsome face. Her fingers itched to touch the angles and planes of his forehead, high cheekbones, and firm jaw.

  Smiling fondly, Devon glanced at his bride. He lingered over the delicate features and porcelain complexion. Thankfully she’d finally got her color back. The frightened stony expression from earlier was absent. In its place he noted the soft feminine glow. And her violet eyes sparkled in mischievous delight.

  Her lush lips drew his attention now. Mentally berating himself for not taking advantage of sealing the vows with a full-blown kiss, he wondered how she’d taste.

  Dragging his thoughts away from that erotic dream and back to the road, he relished the easy silence. Up until they talked he’d endure the strained atmosphere, suffered the tantalizing wafts of her haunting rose perfume. In all that time he’d conjured up ways to diffuse the building tenseness.

  So what if she’d nearly made a fool out of me again, the point I have to remember is, for whatever reason, she didn’t turn her back on this poor boy a second time.

  With her soft hand still in his, she leaned her head back and sighed.

  “Tired?”

  From under her thick, dark lashes, her hooded eyes found his. A teasing smile played around her lips. “Now, what would make you think that? Some guy just happened to climb up my trellis and into my room in the middle of the night, then…” she trailed off.

  Curiosity tugged at him. “Then what?”

  She giggled. “You really can’t remember, can you?”

  Sheepishly, he shrugged. “I’m still trying. How ’bout you help me fill in a couple sketchy places?”

  Red crept into her cheeks. “No way. You figure it out for yourself.”

  His middle clenched at the potent desire swirling between them now. Lord, what did I do? She shifted her legs, drawing his attention downward. Sitting, her skirt was hiked up, revealing long, luscious expanses of her legs. Absently, he wondered if she wore stockings or pantyhose. Turning back to the highway, he tried to concentrate on the traffic. But his mind wandered. Please let it be stockings…and a garter belt. He groaned inwardly as a sexy picture of Jewel dressed in little bits of lingerie sprang before him.

  The sensation of touching soft, round flesh last night intruded. Suddenly, it came back to him. “You weren’t wearing any panties.”

  She stilled, and then yanked her hand away from his. A shaft of bereavement sliced through him at the loss. A quick glimpse and he noticed the crimson dots of color high on her cheeks.

  “Ah…just let me ask you something. Call it a warning to my libido.” He dropped his gaze to her hips and a knot formed in his throat. Swallowing hard, he asked, “Do you make a habit of not wearing panties?”

  She released a puff of air. Was it laughter or indignation? “You expect me to answer that?”

  Trying to make light of it, he said, “Some people might say it’s a husband’s right to know.”

  A bead of sweat formed on his brow as the silence stretched. And I thought it was bad before we started talking. To break the tension, he joked, “I’d tell you if you asked me.”

  A strangled giggle escaped her lips. “All right, I’ll tell if you’ll tell, how’s that?”

  A whoosh of heat blazed through his bloodstream. “Most days I do.” Capturing her stare, he asked, “Now it’s your turn, dollface.”

  Seconds ticked by. “Hardly ever,” she whispered hoarsely, sending him into a tailspin.

  ***

  Hours later, Devon paced the cozy living area of the Vermont bed and breakfast room he’d reserved for their short honeymoon. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting the only light in the small space. The best bottle of champagne the inn had to offer sat nestled in a bucket of ice on an antique cherry table near a stuffed armchair.

  The cold shower he’d taken ten minutes ago hadn’t quieted his passion one bit. He secured the knot on the white towel that hung around his waist, and then used a smaller hand towel to scrub his damp hair.

  Her ‘hardly ever’ repeated in his mind, sending another flare of scorching fire through his veins. Every part of his body throbbed with the intimate knowledge. Was she wearing any today?

  He clamped down on another groan that yearned to escape him. The suppressed sound rumbled in his chest.

  Running water coming from the direction of the bedroom rewarded him with the impression of Jewel sinking into a tub full of bubbles.

  Cursing under his breath, he wondered how he’d survive until she came out. “You just can’t jump on her, Marshall. Try some finesse, some…romance,” he said slowly, recalling Sean’s list.

  With that thought, he turned to the cherry coffee table in front of the French sofa. The silver wrapped package shone brightly in the glow of the nearby firelight. “Well, that’s a start,” he muttered.

  In the back of his mind, he wondered how he could close the gap on twelve years of distance. Physically, he didn’t doubt they’d connect. Somehow, when he held her in the past, everything else faded away and only she and he existed. But, he sensed despite how wonderful making love to her again would be, there would always be something missing, an emptiness.A dream unfulfilled. That hollow part of him ached now; he’d neve
r allowed himself to be so vulnerable with her again.

  “What might have been?” he asked softly. Impressions swirled to life, happy images of Sean, Jewel, and him. “We could have had so much. We could have loved so much.” But not now, not with all that had transpired between our families. With us. It’s too late.

  He tried to bury the heartwarming pictures, but he failed to do so. In fact, they came stronger and faster now, tossing darts of exquisite joy clear through his soul. “Stop teasing me,” he muttered.

  “Devon?”

  Jerking to the sound of her sweet voice, he stilled. Shimmering lavender silk hugged her curves, outlining every delicious inch of her body. He gulped in a breath as he scanned the length of her. She’s definitely not wearing a stitch under that garment.

  Yanking his intent inspection from the way the large, twin points hardened under his stare, he sought her face. Radiant. The steam from her bath had turned her cheeks a rosy hue. Wisps of her glossy, black hair caressed her neck and ears. And her eyes held a dark, sultry quality that made his blood burn with need.

  A deeper red invaded her features as she grabbed the two ends of her matching robe and tied it closed. If she thought it would adequately cover her, or even halt his potent desire, she was mistaken.

  Her gaze swept over him, scorching the bare skin on his chest with just one look. His grip on the small towel tightened.

  “Ah…did you say something a moment ago?”

  As if in a daze, he answered, “I was just talking to myself. God, you’re beautiful.” Even if he wanted to he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

  A tremulous smile tugged on her lips and she refused to be captured by his stare. “Oh, it’s just the wedding gift Bree and Tessa gave me, that’s all?”

  Intrigued by this shy side of her, he probed further. “You’re business partners, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Remind me to thank them. But, I really did mean it when I said you’re beautiful.”

  “You don’t have to say things just to make me feel better about all this. I know why we’re here.”