Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2)

by Laurie LeClair

  “I wish to hell you’d have told me this years ago, dollface. Maybe I wouldn’t have done what I did. Maybe I wouldn’t have believed so much in your damn dreams for us, the house, the business, the family,” he choked out.

  A flash of insight chased across her features. “You can’t forgive me for that, can you? That, for us, being from different worlds didn’t matter. For making you believe that anything was possible for us.”

  Something twisted inside him. Gently, he rubbed her soft cheek, and then brushed back a wisp of her hair. “You know, that’s the one that hurts the most.” Loving someone always hurts.

  She groaned, and then dropped her head so now she rested her forehead on his chest. Her rose perfume drifted upward, wrapping around him in a delicate spun web of longing, of need. Tentatively, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, and then stroked her back. She feels so good.

  “I never used to think of more than the moment or my payback until I let myself be swept away by you.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to starve off the wave of painful memories. He failed.

  “I made you feel when you didn’t want to. I made you dream.” Pulling back, she swiped at her tears. Lifting her chin, she sucked in a shaky breath, saying, “You won’t allow yourself to do that now, will you?”

  He nodded. “This is killing me, Jewel. I just can’t have my heart ripped out of me when it all turns sour, not again.”

  “And with me it’s inevitable.” The sadness in her voice shot straight through him, leaving scars behind. “Now I know where I stand, what about Sean? You promised you’d go see him play in his football game this week. And help him fix up his new room. And teach him about computers. What about all that?”

  “You know I always keep my promises, dollface,” he said gently, still awed and humbled by her ability to accept him the way he was. It must have cost her plenty. “I’ll find the time for Sean. As for you—”

  She covered his mouth with her soft hand. “No, Devon, don’t say anything. I don’t want to be disappointed.”

  His middle clutched. Grabbing her hand, he kissed it tenderly, and then moved it away. “I just want to make it work so all of us are happy.” He knew what he had to do and with Jewel’s help they would solve everything together.

  “Oh, Devon, how can you say that when you want to turn our world upside down?”

  Confused, he asked, “How’s that?”

  Sighing wearily, she faced him. Despair shone in the depths of her eyes. “By digging up the past about your father and mine. Can’t you just leave it be?”

  He jerked away from her, breaking all contact. A part of him regretted the distance, his empty arms aching for her. The other half rallied his age-old vengeance. “I can’t. And you shouldn’t even bother to ask why not. I not only have myself to think about here, but Sean as well.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “The hell you are.”

  That only infuriated him more. But the fire in her eyes and the undisguised emotions written all over her features stunted his train of thought. In all the time he’d known her he’d never seen her like this, so open, so completely honest. Admiration sparked bright. Maybe we should have done this years ago. Things would have been so different if we had.

  Hauling his mind back on track, he said, “I owe it to Sean to find out the truth.”

  “Maybe what we already know is what really happened. Did you ever think of that?”

  A dart of pain stabbed his gut. Freed from any kind of restrictions, he tossed it right back at her. “And maybe you don’t want to find out the truth because it would shed a bad light on your old man.”

  The color in her face drained. In a way, he longed to yank every word back, shield her from all this. “Are you accusing my father of embezzling the money, then blaming yours?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you intend to uncover all this. How? By digging up every ruthless, calculated thing Simon Wainwright ever did? Well, I’ve got news for you, Devon, it will take years, and that’s just with his own family.”

  “See, you admit it.”

  “My mother and I lived it. But it doesn’t mean he stole the money. If he did, where is it now? He certainly would have used it to save his failing business. You and I both know how much breeding and training horses meant to him.”

  That gave him something to consider, something he’d never regarded before. He didn’t believe for a moment that was the case however. Clear and simple, Wainwright stole the money and framed his partner. What he did with the loot remained to be discovered. “If he’s clean—”

  “Which you doubt.” Exasperation edged her tone.

  He continued as if uninterrupted. “Then what does it matter in the long run to you?” He took the plunge and asked her what he’d wanted to for days now. “Why don’t we join forces and investigate it together? You were there in that house. You must know what went on. Or at least what happened to all his old business files.”

  Shaking her head vehemently, she said, “No, I won’t be a part of your destroying our son’s life.”

  Had he heard right? “Destroying? I’ll be setting the record straight for him.”

  She threw up her hands. “He’s eleven. His world consists of his friends and whether or not they like him. Yes, he wants attention from them, to be considered cool and accepted. If you pursue this and stir up all the old stuff and more about my father, Sean will be in the spotlight, but not the one he needs or wants.”

  Her sound reasoning crashed down on him. He fought back, but in the back of his mind he questioned how it would affect his son. “So, you’d prefer to protect your father while mine has been maligned for years. In a sense, aren’t you a party to keeping one of his grandfathers’ names muddy?”

  “That happened twenty years ago and is only whispered about on occasion. If you drag it all up again, it will be fresh and new for Sean. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt like that.”

  “And I did?” His heart squeezed in his chest, knowing exactly what Sean would face; he had at nearly the same age as his son.

  “Of course not. But let that part of our past rest, Devon.”

  “What are you teaching him then? To ignore the skeletons? To graciously accept someone else’s view of how a man, a good man at that, lived his life?”

  “And how do we know that he didn’t do it? Because you say so?” she challenged as twin flags of red seared her cheeks.

  He balled his hands into fists. “Because I know so.”

  “How? By gut instinct? By his example? For crying out loud he committed adultery with your mother?”

  “Don’t even go there,” he bit out between clenched teeth while pointing a finger at her.

  “For our son’s sake, I will go there. Take your blinders off, Devon. He put your mom in a tiny house, no bigger than a shack. Even after you came along he never moved you two to a better place, never offered to have her stop being the cook for him and his wife. What kind of man would do that?”

  The loud roar in his ears nearly made him miss the last. “A desperate one, all right? He loved my mom.” He jabbed a finger into his chest. “He loved me. It was the only way he could keep us close to him. It was the only way he knew how to take care of us.”

  “And he left you nothing when he died.”

  To most people the hint of sadness in her voice would have been misconstrued as pity. But not for him; he knew she’d suffered the same fate as he had. Disowned.

  By her own account she’d handed him his trump card. “Exactly. Remember? His wife held the purse strings. Never once did he control any of the money in his own house. If he had embezzled the cash he’d have left it to my mother and me. Somehow, some way, he would have made sure we had gotten it.”

  Clear, bright dawning entered her eyes. Stunned wonder crossed her features. “Oh, my God, he didn’t do it.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Jewel,” he said softly, reading the echoing hurt and pain in her expre
ssion. She knew how he’d felt for so long, shunned, misunderstood. With that knowledge a certain satisfaction swept over him; she believed him now. “So you’ll help me then?”

  “I can’t.”

  His bubble burst. His heart ached. “Why not?”

  “You’re leaving town.”

  “Just for a while. Not for good.”

  She gazed at him with some inner knowledge he couldn’t quite figure out. “Eventually I think you will. And then it will be up to me to pick up the pieces in Sean’s world. And in mine.” She whispered the last, causing the words to stab his heart.

  Lord, how I must have torn her life apart. She expects the same treatment this time, too. And why shouldn’t she when I never showed her any different?

  He detected a sense of fear in her. This had nothing to do with uncovering the real criminal at all. This was personal for her. On some level she knew him better than he knew himself. According to her way of thinking, as soon as he accomplished his mission of reclaiming his family’s honor, dignity, and respect, he’d have no reason to remain in town.

  Dear God, she’s right.

  Chapter 11

  The knot in Jewel’s belly had slowly unraveled. The atmosphere around Devon and her had been quiet and contemplative the last few hours.

  Although they’d exchanged few words, it seemed as if the bond they’d shared strengthened after releasing years of pent-up truth and emotion, the eruption finally led to understanding each other. The fight had whooshed out when she’d stated the obvious.

  Sometime after he’d achieved his family’s redemption, he’d leave. Most certainly for good this time. To her, loving someone meant losing them.

  Now, walking beside him up the gleaming staircase of the inn to their room, she wished she’d have prolonged dinner instead of picking at her meal, and then shoving it aside.

  Jewel knew the moment she walked through the door the intimacy would immediately pulse to life. Her body betrayed her as it hummed in anticipation.

  The slight weight of his hand on the small of her back brought Jewel back to the here and now. Alone in the long elegant hallway she sensed the beginning of the gossamer web of passion encircling them in a titillating embrace.

  Without a word, Devon guided her to their room. With each step, she felt the brush of his hip against hers and the accompanying tug of desire. The change in his breathing pattern alerted her to his own heightened awareness. His clean, fresh scent only added to the arousing closeness.

  He stopped in front of the door, and then, watching her closely, fished out the key. Jewel gasped at the hypnotic, sensual pull she detected in his dark eyes.

  He wanted her.

  It never ceased to amaze her how in tune they were, how utterly perfect they could read each other in private, stolen moments of passion.

  Turning the key, he shoved the door open, and then waved her in ahead of him. As she entered, Jewel was assaulted with the heady fragrance of roses.

  “Damn, I forgot about that,” Devon muttered, following and turning the lock to shut out the world.

  Intrigued, she moved to the living room, searching for the source of the perfumed air. She frowned when she didn’t spot even one flower. “The bedroom.” She twirled in that direction.

  She passed Devon who dragged a hand down his face. Going over the threshold, she took measured steps toward the center of attention dominating the area.

  Rose petals, in a multitude of different colors and shades, covered the bed. Awe robbed her of speech. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she cupped a hand over her mouth to stop the bubble of joy that threatened to break loose.

  “I remember promising you this a long time ago,” he said almost shyly.

  Jewel turned around. Twin slashes of color sliced the top of his cheeks. He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. She giggled at this decadent side of him, and then flopped back on the mattress. Red, pink, yellow, peach and white petals flew up, and then gently floated back down, some landing on her.

  Hugging herself, she rolled back and forth. “I love it.”

  His chuckle, low and throaty, sent tingles to her toes. Scurrying to her knees, she grabbed handfuls of the soft flowers, tossing them in the air. They rained down on her, caressing her face and neck. “This is so wonderful.” Holding out her hand to him, she coaxed, “Come join me.”

  He didn’t make her wait. The mattress dipped at the added weight, nearly toppling her into his arms. Devon steadied her. The contrast of his warm, work-roughened hands and the silky feel of the petals made her suck in her breath.

  Staring into his eyes, she gasped with wonder. “You remembered.”

  “I wanted to give you this when we were young, instead of a musty old loft with prickly hay and a scratchy wool blanket.” Emotion clouded his voice. But his eyes shone with an inner light, reminding her of the love they once shared, the absolute caring, the way he used to be.

  Had their confrontation peeled back the protective layer he clung to, letting her peek inside? Could the real Devon be just below the surface waiting for a signal to reemerge? Reaching the loving man he’d been might hold the key to solving so many of their problems, of his constant need to leave.

  Tentatively, she reached up and trailed her fingertips over his face. “Oh, Devon, you are the sweetest man for doing this for me. Thank you.”

  Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. He returned the soft caress, prolonging the gentle kiss. The tenderness in his touch brought a deep longing in her to the forefront. She yearned to be loved and cared for by this man, the only man who could repair her broken heart, the heart he broke.

  When he delved his tongue in her mouth, she flowered under him. His warm hands cupped her face as he paid homage to her with the incredible, sensuous kiss, strumming chords in her she never knew existed. Jewel reveled in this sensitive side of him, a side he seldom showed.

  Pulling back slightly, Devon locked gazes with her. Sucking in a sharp breath, she read the stark hunger in him clear to his soul. Wonder filled her at the revelation; he allowed her to witness his desperate need for her.

  He’d never let her so close before, never let her read more than the physical desire. Now, he opened a pocket of himself to her she marveled at. She swore to herself she’d never betray that knowledge and would never harm him with it.

  “I want you, dollface,” he whispered fiercely.

  Blinking back the sting of tears, she nodded. “I know. But I don’t know if I can give you what you want or need.” The admission cost her dearly.

  A spark of admiration shone brightly in his dark green eyes. “The truth is, I don’t know if I can do the same for you, either.” He blew out a hot breath. It fanned her face and something low and deep curled inside of her. “I thought I knew all the answers. When I came back to town I had it all figured out.”

  “Getting back what had once been your father’s, right?”

  “Buying the house, the property, rebuilding the horse breeding and training business was easy enough to plan.”

  A cloud passed over his features. She guessed, “But I wasn’t what you expected. And Sean was a complete shock.”

  He grinned, sly and wicked, sending a tingling sensation through her veins. He brushed back wisps of her hair with such reverence it renewed the well of moisture gathering in her eyes.

  “You, Mrs. Marshall, nearly knocked me down with one look.” He frowned. “I figured you’d left town if the house was for sale. But, if by some chance, you were still around, I’d planned to give you a divorce.”

  An invisible band wrapped around her chest, squeezing tight. Jewel lowered her head. A tear escaped, sliding down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb, and then gently lifted her chin.

  “In a way I thought it would fix things between us, set you free of me.” Sheepishly, he continued, “Oh that was after I’d have showered you with a pile of money.”

  “I don’t want your money.” Irritation edged her voice.

  He he
ld up his hands, palm side facing her. “Whoa, now. I got that impression when you kept throwing it back at me this last week. Do you know how annoying that can be to a man who only knows dollars and cents?”

  A giggle escaped at his crestfallen look. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

  The feel of his large hands on her shoulders seemed like a balm to her. “Yes, we are.” He paused for a moment. “Jewel, I never had anything I could offer you before now.”

  “That’s not true,” she rushed to reassure him. “Remember the summer when they sent me away to camp and I came home to find out my mother had died…” she trailed off as she clamped her eyes shut, willing the fresh wave of tears to stay at bay. “Just you being there for me then was more than enough.”

  “God, I hated them for doing that to you.”

  His concern touched her. Looking at him again, she whispered in a broken voice, “I never had a chance to say good-bye to her.”

  “They took it away from you.”

  She nodded. “And when the rumors went around town how depressed I was, no one came to me to talk or even to ask me how I was doing. Except you, you shoved a note at me the first day back to school.”

  Raking a hand through his hair, he said, “I was thirteen, I didn’t know what else to do, or even if you’d talk to me, so, for me, it was the only way to tell you someone gave a damn.”

  “I still have it.”

  He jerked his head up at that. Deep lines formed between his brows. “I didn’t know it had meant so much to you.”

  “It did. For the first time in a long time I knew someone cared what happened to me.” The memorized words of his note ran through her mind now.

  I’m sorry about your mom. I know how you feel. My dad died three years ago and it still hurts like hell. Just don’t go and do what they say you’re gonna do.

  “No one has ever made me feel like you do.” Emotion clogged his voice. “These last twelve years I turned it off. I didn’t want to face anything but how much I hated your father. It was so much easier that way. It kept me alive when I thought I was dying inside.”