A knot in his middle clenched. He waved a hand to encompass the room. “Are you talking about the honeymoon or us?”
Hugging herself, she said, “Both, I guess.”
“Well, I’m glad you have the answers, because I sure the hell don’t. So, why don’t you let me in on it?” Devon berated himself for the sudden burst of temper, but sensed his anger had to do with a combination of frustration and her total lack of believing him.
Slowly, she moved toward the sofa. Once there, she sank on to the flowered cushion as if her knees could no longer hold her. “Why are you mad at me?”
Unable to keep still a moment more, he resumed pacing the room while clutching the small towel. “Call me crazy, but when I say something nice to you I’d like for it not to be thrown back at me.”
She sighed, long and loud. “Oh, Devon, it’s me, not you.” Closing her eyes, she continued, “No one has said that to me in a very long time, if ever, without some kind of hidden agenda.”
Halting, he twisted to her, his heart squeezing at the echo of sadness strumming in her voice. Gently, he pointed out, “I don’t say things I don’t mean. I never have and I never will.”
Focusing on him once again, she gave him a weak smile. He noted the moisture clinging to her lashes. A dagger-like pain sliced through his core. “Oh, dollface.” I should have been here to protect you.
Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind, all right? I’ll try to remember that you kept that part of who you were.”
“I kept it all,” he said quietly.
“You hide it well then.”
Too well, he heard the unspoken words. Blowing out a hot breath, he made his way around the furniture, and then took a seat beside her. She withdrew, tucking herself in a corner of the sofa. But not before he caught a whiff of her perfumed body. A coil tightened low in his belly.
Leaning forward, he nudged the present. “I got you a wedding gift. Would you like to open it?”
Her whole face lit up, allowing him to recall how thrilled she’d always been at receiving surprises from him. Even the simplest tokens of affection, the only ones he’d been able to afford, had brought joy to her. “I’d love to.”
In no time at all she’d ripped off the big silver bow and began tearing at the wrappings. The rustling sound of the paper sliced the air. When she lifted the lid to the deep white box and brushed aside the tissue, she gasped. “My mother’s hair brush, comb, and tray set.” Wonder colored her words.
“I knew how much it meant to you. And you wouldn’t accept it otherwise.” He shrugged as emotion formed a lump in his throat.
Lovingly, she traced the scrolled design on the back of the brush. “I used to sit for hours while she fixed her hair.” She chuckled, and then turned to him. “I guess that’s where my love of hairdressing all began. But back then whenever I attempted to emulate her style, I always ended up with a rat’s nest sitting on my head.”
Joining in her laughter, Devon’s heart rejoiced at the sweet music. From what his son had told him over the last week whenever he came to help with the remodeling, Devon had learned Jewel seldom even smiled. Now he sensed she’d purposely concealed that warm, caring young lady she had been.
“You’ll accept it then?”
Almost shyly, she said, “Thank you.” A moment later she stretched toward him, depositing a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek. It only made him long for more.
Continuing to stroke the antique set in awe, she said, “You had it cleaned.”
Refusing to tell her he’d been the one to spend the long hours of the nights removing the tarnish until it gleamed, while thoughts of her danced in his head, he simply nodded.
As if pulled from a trance, she exclaimed, “Oh, I almost forgot, I have one for you.”
Watching as she dashed to the bedroom, he couldn’t imagine what she’d gotten for him. He’d never expected anything. Just her marrying him all over again had been enough, enough to encourage him to believe, for Sean’s sake, she’d give him the help he needed in finding out the truth from twenty years ago.
She reappeared with a pale blue, book-like object cradled to her bosom. “It’s not wrapped or anything. And it isn’t even a real wedding gift. In fact, it’s more of a daddy present.”
Sitting beside him once again, Jewel watched as deep grooves formed between his brows.
“What’s a daddy present?”
Sheepishly, she handed him the cloth-covered scrapbook. “Some people call it a baby book. It’s all about Sean from beginning until now.”
A huge smile transformed his features, giving him a soft approachable look.
Her heart swelled. Without thinking, she reached out to stroke back his damp hair. The silky texture slid through her fingers and caressed her palm. An invisible string tugged in her core.
Her actions revealed the bluish-red lump on his forehead. Inwardly, she winced, knowing from what her son had explained Devon had smacked his head hard in the middle of the night.
“Are you sure you want to give this up?”
Dragging her thoughts back to the moment and her hand away from him, she said, “I made this one especially for you. I knew that Sean would want to find you someday and you deserved to see this.”
He jerked his gaze to hers. A wealth of conflicting feelings chased across his features. “Thank you for this, for in some small way including me in his life.” He cleared his throat. “Sean told me you’ve kept me alive for him all these years. Not many women would have been so kind.”
A chord strummed inside her. “Whatever problems we had between us, I just couldn’t let them be a part of Sean’s world. He didn’t deserve that. And…you didn’t either.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a remarkable woman, Jewel Wainwright Marshall?”
In an attempt to lighten the mood, she teased, “Not nearly enough, Mr. Marshall, not nearly enough.”
His grin, wide and easy, stole her breath away. “Well, I’ll just have to do something to remedy that oversight, now won’t I?”
Unnerved by the strange tugging in her middle, she tapped the book he held. “Why don’t we take a look?”
With a trembling hand, he stroked the raised letters. “Sean Marshall.” Wonder filled his tone. “Even then you gave him my name.”
Scooting closer to him, Jewel carefully opened the cover. “Here, let me show you.” Embarrassed to come upon a picture of herself round with their son, she tried to brush it aside by saying, “You can definitely throw this one away.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
With a fingertip, he traced the image of her swollen abdomen. “I wish I could have seen you then, been there for you.” Regret throbbed in his voice, squeezing her heart.
Tears burned the back of her eyes. “In a way you were. Ah…your mother forced me to take the money you gave her the night you left town. I don’t know what I would have done without it.”
He went stark still, his face turning white beneath his tan. Pinning her with a probing gaze, he said between gritted teeth, “She knew and didn’t tell me.”
Numbly, Jewel nodded, catching a flash of raw pain. Just as quickly, he buried it. “Forget it, Devon. You know, maybe she had a good reason. She must have figured I took care of it, like she suggested. And after I kept the baby, she and I never spoke or saw each other again. I’m sure if you ask her, she’ll tell you the same or something similar.”
“She can’t. I thought you knew. The town gossips enough, surely you heard.”
“Only rumors. I didn’t pay them any mind.”
“She’s in a fancy retirement home in Hartford. At first the doctors said she was just forgetful, and then when they realized it was more serious than that, they diagnosed her with Alzheimer’s.”
“How awful.” The sympathy in her voice was heartfelt; he’d been robbed of so much all his life and now this.
Dragging a hand through his hair, he continued, “Your old man kicked her out. A habit of his, it seem
s like. If it didn’t fit in with what he expected, and obviously she couldn’t even continue on as his cook, then out you go.” He paused. “Thank God she had enough presence of mind left to get in contact with Father Tom. In turn, he got in touch with Gil, and together they found my address in her things and called me. Between the three of us we convinced her to go into a home. Gil helped arrange it all.”
Jewel released a breath, knowing at least she was being taken good care of. Scrutinizing his demeanor, she wondered if she should tell him all of it. “There’s more you should know.”
He snapped his head around to face her fully. The grim lines carved along both sides of his mouth told their own story. “Go ahead.”
With a weight in the pit of her stomach, she explained, “I think she felt guilty.”
His frown deepened. “Guilty? How so?”
She swallowed hard. “I was disowned because she told my father I was having your baby.”
“You’re saying she did it on purpose?”
Holding up her hand, palm side to him, she said, “No, not on purpose. She thought by telling him, he’d relent, track you down, and bring you home where you belonged. It had the opposite effect.”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, sweet Jesus.”
Pulling his hand away and cupping his chin, she forced him to look directly at her. “Don’t blame her. It probably would have happened anyway. He wasn’t a forgiving man. I betrayed him.”
“By sleeping with trash.”
Cringing, she nodded. “In his eyes.”
“And in yours?”
Slowly she scanned his features. The soft boyish roundness from his youth had been replaced with sharp angles and planes, giving him a hard, ruthless quality. And the once readable dark green eyes contained an ability to mask the tenderness he used to allow her to witness.
Tentatively, she caressed his cheek, knowing she had to ease his pain somehow. He flinched, but she didn’t withdraw her touch. Oh, the price we’ve both paid. “In my eyes, I loved you with everything I had in me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You were the only person who could give what I needed back them.” Whether it was manufactured or not is another story? But at the time, I didn’t realize how badly you wanted your revenge.
“And now?”
She pulled her hand away, and then hugged herself. A sadness throbbed to life behind her rib cage. Now, I know the truth. “I’m not that dreamy-eyed little girl anymore.” At least I won’t admit to it, but I still want that Knight in Shining Armor to rescue me. Once, I thought it could even be you, Devon. Now I know I expected too much from you. But if only…
A wicked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, causing her to suck in a sharp breath. “Our son would claim otherwise.” Leaning near, he whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but he thinks you’re a romantic at heart.”
His clean scent drifted to her. Only inches from him now, she became highly aware of his near naked state. The need to touch him pulsed with every beat of her blood. Heat rolled off his body to encompass her. A flare of desire sparked in the depths of his gaze, sending a responding warmth to curl low in her abdomen.
“Handsome?”
“Dollface?”
He lowered his head. Automatically she closed her eyes, anticipation fluttering in her middle. His hot breath fanned her face, sending shivers down her spine.
“Stop me now,” his husky voice begged.
“I don’t want you to,” she whispered back.
A groan escaped him. Gently, he brushed her lips with his. The soft, exploitative kiss surprised her, yet made her ache for more. With infinite care and patience, he continued the sensual assault on her senses. He licked her lips apart, tenderly opening her mouth for his access. Liquid fire rushed through her at the bold, intimate embrace.
She flowered under his touch, her heart swelling with joy. With one hand, she reached out to sink her fingers in his thick hair. The silky texture caressed her palm, causing her to moan. He responded in kind, the vibration tantalizing her even more. A surge of feminine power lanced through her.
Trembling, she sought his broad shoulders. His muscles bunched beneath her questing hands. Stroking him freely, she relished the contained strength, the power, the solidness of him. He’s here and not a dream any more.
He shifted, drawing her closer. Suddenly a loud thump and a muffled curse broke the haze of her passion.
Chapter 8
Reluctantly, she parted from him, gulping in fresh air. “Are you all right?”
Bending, he hefted the scrapbook, and then placed it on the coffee table. “This, my wife, is a lethal weapon. I think I might have broken my toe.”
Clamping a hand over her mouth to stop the flood of bubbling laughter, she noted the murderous look he shot the baby book. Dropping her hand, she said, “It weighs a ton.”
Sticking out his foot, he flexed his digits. “You’re telling me.”
She searched the room, spotting the champagne nestled in a bucket on the quaint side table. “I’ll get you some ice for that.” Quickly, she grabbed the small towel lying across his lap, and then crossed the living area. In a few deft steps, she made an ice pack for him.
Near him once again, she gingerly propped up his injured foot, and then placed the icy bundle on his reddened baby toe.
“Got any more of that stuff?”
Confused, she followed the drop of his gaze to the bulge under the towel that barely covered his hips. Heat whooshed into her face, burning large circles in her cheeks.
Just thinking of how close they had been only moments ago sent her careening back in time, a time when she’d been head over heels in love with him. Along with the embarrassment came a wave of regret for how much they had lost, how much love they had missed out on.
Devon noted the quick rush of crimson and berated himself for stating the obvious effect her devastating kiss had on him.
An impish grin played around her mouth. “I don’t think there’s enough ice in the bucket to reduce the swelling for your…condition.”
He chuckled. It came out strangled.
Turning her back on him, she moved to a nearby chair. Once seated with her legs tucked beneath her, she said, “You’re wrong, you know. I’m not the romantic type at all. I’m cool, calm, and collected. I don’t let myself be swept away with any romantic inclination.”
Lazily, he eased back, scanning her flushed features, the feverish eyes now dark with desire, and the way her breasts rose and fell with each panting breath. He gulped hard.
Concentrating on what she’d stated, he took in everything he’d learned about her. She may disagree, but she hadn’t erased every last fanciful notion from her childhood. Sean’s list proves it. “Cool, calm, and collected, is that right?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t believe you,” he challenged her, tickled to see a spark of fire ignite in the slumberous violet eyes. He longed for the flames again, the flare of passion to erupt between them as it had only a minute ago.
One delicate eyebrow rose. “I wouldn’t have remarried you if I hadn’t been realistic about the whole matter.”
Nodding, he agreed, “Sean.”
“Exactly.”
Lifting a shoulder, he asked, “And you can’t think of anything else we’ve got going for us?”
“Not a thing.”
Fighting the sudden tightness in his chest, he balled his hands into fists. “What about the obvious: sex?”
She blanched, and then visibly withdrew from him as if she’d turned a switch to off.
“Don’t even try to deny how good we are together.”
Her silence grated along his nerves. The way she ducked her head and fidgeted with the braiding on the chair, tipped him off to the internal battle she waged.
Blowing out a hot breath, he said, “I’m telling you straight from the hip.” He flung a hand to the package she’d unwrapped earlier. “If you want me to dress it up in fancy paper and p
retty ribbon, then say so. But the fact remains the same, we’re good in bed together.”
“That was the past.” The clipped answer felt like a blade slicing deep.
Numbness replaced the throbbing pain in his toe. He tossed off the makeshift ice pack, and then stood to pace. Hobbling around the room, he pointed out, “Didn’t we just prove we still have it?”
She covered her face with her hands and groaned.
Did she regret the kiss? A ball of fire resided in the pit of his belly. “Damn it, Jewel, stop acting like an ice princess.”
Jewel jerked her head up, locking gazes with him. Hers held a wealth of pain, making him cringe. “I only used to do that when someone I cared about hurt me and I didn’t want them to see me cry. But I was never like that with you, Devon Marshall.”
“Maybe not then, but a minute ago I swear you put up a wall.”
Swiping at a tear that hung in the corner of her eye, she said, “It’s because…”
Raking a hand through his nearly dried hair, he said, “Now, that’s a really good answer.”
A frosty glare nailed him. “I wasn’t finished. All right. If you want me to tell you, I will. Yes, we’re good together. But only when we focus on the physical stuff. Then we’re almost combustible, so much so that we tend to forget everything else. It’s always been like that with us. If it wasn’t we wouldn’t be in this predicament now, would we? So forgive me if I’m a little reluctant to throw all our problems out the window in order to sleep with you again.”
“I wasn’t aware we had ‘problems’,” he bit out, churning inside.
Disbelief came over her face. “You don’t see it, do you? Lord, how could you, since you don’t seem to have any concerns with what’s going on. You now have all you ever wanted.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “Everything that was wrong in the past between us is still there.”
“How’s that?” I’m not poor anymore.
“I know to you I’m just a means to an end.” Bitterness edged her voice.
Stunned wonder robbed him of speech and something inside him twisted. He never saw her like that, not really. His heart had always won over when it came to her, so much so he had nearly given up his vengeance just to go on loving her. But as much as it hurt, tearing his heart in two, he had to restore his father’s honor.
Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2) Page 7