Crimes of the Heart (Heart Romance #2)

by Laurie LeClair

  With one phone call, everything had changed. He saw Jewel’s side to a whole host of concerns. Distance topped the list. A vital part of her life would be removed for long periods of time. Devon couldn’t do that to either one of them. If anyone had to change gears here it was him.

  The answers prowled through his mind. Tate continually pestered him to hire an assistant. That would be the first step. Next, he’d promote a couple of their guys to supervise the out-of-state projects. Slowly, Devon clawed at a free day here and there, adding up to a week at a time so he could return to Sean and Jewel.

  With the practical resolutions firmly settled, Devon’s mind focused once again on Sean. “How bad can it be?” he wondered out loud.

  “No broken bones.”

  He glimpsed at Jewel. Expressionless and remote, she sat ramrod-straight. Taking a second look, this one for several seconds longer, he detected the way she clutched her hands in her lap.

  “No stitches, either,” he reassured her as well as himself, easing his stranglehold on the wheel.

  She let out a shaky breath, the tension in her slackening, and then turned to him. “Just some bumps and bruises when he and Kev collided on their skateboards. Nick would have told us if it was really bad.”

  Frowning, Devon asked, “How well do you know this guy?”

  “Nick? I’ve known him for years actually. It’s just recently he and Bree—”

  “Your business partner, right? The blonde one?”

  “Yeah. They’ve had feelings for each other for a long time, but not until a couple of weeks ago did they act on them.”

  “So, do you think he’d tell you the whole truth about Sean?”

  A rough chuckle escaped her lips. “He’s a cop, what do you think?”

  “Not all cops are on the straight and narrow,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Well, Nick Carletti certainly is. Plus, he’d tell me. He knows how agonizing the waiting can be. The hoping.” Her voice caught, and then came out filled with pain.

  Swinging his gaze to her, he asked, “How so?”

  “He lost his son over a year and a half ago,” she said quietly. “Vinnie was a cop, too. He was shot and killed in the line of duty. Nick saw the whole thing.”

  Devon’s heart contracted, squeezing in imagined pain for what this father must have suffered. Hearing this, the dust blew away and he saw things so clearly.

  Sean. What would I do if anything happened to him?

  A raw ache throbbed to life behind his rib cage. He couldn’t fathom the stark emptiness of living somewhere with the knowledge that the charming, funny eleven-going-on-forty-year-old boy he’d come to know and care for didn’t exist any longer. He loved his son, there was no denying it.

  Carefully, he reached out with an unsteady hand, and then covered her clasped ones. They felt so small, silky, and delicate beneath his. Fragile, like her, only she won’t let anyone see it.

  The giggle she released surprised him. With it the tense atmosphere dissolved. “What’s so funny?”

  Tugging a hand free, she plucked a stray white rose petal trapped between his shirt cuff and wrist, and then lifted it for his inspection. “We are. We dashed out of there so fast we didn’t get all these off of us.”

  Shifting slightly in his seat so he could tug at his jeans, he shot her a wicked grin. “And I didn’t even have a chance to drag on any underwear.” Scanning down over her unbound breasts under her thin shirt, to her skintight, black leggings, he said slyly, “You didn’t either, if I remember correctly.”

  She leaned close, depositing the softest, sexiest kiss on his cheek. “But then again, I normally don’t anyway.” Her husky whisper in his ear caused heat to bathe his body and made his jeans even more uncomfortable than they had been an instant ago.

  “Ah, you wouldn’t be trying to distract me now, would you? Cause if you are, you’re doing a damn good job of it.”

  Her throaty laughter sent liquid fire surging through his veins. “How’d you guess? It takes our minds off of worrying about Sean.”

  “It does that. But unfortunately, it also takes my mind off the road.”

  “Sorry.” She settled back in her seat, adjusting her seat belt and withdrawing from him totally. The absence should have appeased him, but it did anything but.

  Once again, he focused on the long stretch of deserted highway.

  “Something’s been bothering me since we talked earlier today.”

  He heard the hesitations in her voice, and then speculated on the reasons. “We talked a lot. Mind clueing me in on what part?”

  Twisting, so she sat sideways in her seat, she sighed. The warmth of her breath fanned across his face and he shivered in response. He loved when she did that every time he entered her as if, saying, without a word, she accepted the exquisite feeling of being one with him.

  “It was in the meadow. You said you wanted to make Sean and me happy.” She paused, clearly gathering her thoughts. “You meant by leaving us, didn’t you? Trying to keep us untouched so you wouldn’t interrupt or even cause a bump in our lives. Which, by the way, isn’t anywhere close to happening. All of this so that we’d be happy.”

  A ripple of shock raced through him, shaking him to his core. She knew him so well, maybe better than he knew himself sometimes. “I didn’t want to be a bad influence on him.”

  Her gasp tore at him. “You think walking away is still an option. You think that’s going to be a good influence? Don’t you get it yet? You need to make a bigger investment in your son’s future, more than just righting some wrongs. You need to do it not just for Sean’s sake, and not just for his children to come, but for your own sake as well.”

  Icy dread pooled in his middle. Nothing had ever deterred him from his quest. No setback had been too great to hurdle. When some difficulty developed he’d regroup, and then press onward. Plan A had disintegrated the moment he learned of Simon Wainwright’s untimely death. Devon had stumbled, but never faulted. He implemented Plan B with renewed determination. Then, when he’d found out about Sean, he created Plan C. Now, that too, seemed to be wavering.

  The thought of losing Sean had sent him on an incomprehensible odyssey of fear. With the prospect of all Jewel had said and inferred, the fact that his single-minded resolve of vengeance and any action he chose to take from now on would transform, maybe even harm his family in some way, brought him up short. She’d told him earlier today, but he’d been centered on a plausible defense. Excuses.

  For the first time Devon realized there was so much more to consider here. So much of who and what his son and grandchildren would become rested with the decisions he’d make in the very near future, decisions on whether or not to pursue the course where he knew, but couldn’t prove yet, Jewel’s father had committed a crime and framed his.

  What kind of life would Sean and his children be able to lead in their hometown? None, if they had to live under a cloud of speculation and suspicion that they were made out of the same fiber as an adulterer on one side of the family tree and a criminal on the other.

  Right now it only amounted to one bad seed, his father, one buried so deep some had nearly forgotten the past. How can I uncover the answers I need while still protecting my son?

  Chapter 14

  At midnight, standing in the Carletti’s living room, Devon jammed his hands in his pockets. A rush of sweet relief swept through him as he watched Jewel hug their son. The touching picture of his wife and son locked together nearly choked him with emotion.

  “See I told you I was all right,” Sean said when Jewel finally released him. “The doctor even said it was okay for me to play in Wednesday’s football game, the one dad promised he’d come see me in.”

  Except for a scrape on his chin, some scratches on his cheek and arms, and a couple of bruises, the boy seemed fine to Devon. Despite the good condition his son was in he still couldn’t shake the terrible prospect of losing him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Nick, holding his
very sleepy little girl, and Bree watched silently with a well of empathy, and perhaps envy on Nick’s part.

  Devon swallowed past the lump in his throat as he yanked his hands out of his pockets and held open his arms for his son. “Got one of those for your old man?” The mixture of delight and love that transformed the boy’s face humbled him. That look would stay with Devon for the rest of his life.

  Sean rushed to him, and, in moments, Devon hugged his son for the first time. His heart swelled and overflowed with indescribable joy. Embracing the small body, Devon inhaled the soapy scent of him and clamped his eyes shut, thanking whoever was listening for watching over his son, not just today but always.

  “Geez, Dad, what did you and mom do, take a bath in roses or something?” he asked, stepping back and waving a hand in front of his nose.

  Looking squarely into his wife’s eyes, he winked, and then watched as crimson crept up her neck. A purely masculine response tugged at him as he recalled their lovemaking on the soft, silky petals.

  “Something along those lines,” he answered his son. Ruffling Sean’s dark hair, Devon teased, “How’s the skateboard look?” He was certain everyone present heard the thick emotion clogging his voice. He didn’t care.

  A grimace wrinkled the boy’s expressive features. “Oh, man, you should see it. It busted in two and the wheels are all bent out of shape.” He demonstrated with his hands, making a snapping motion, and then twisting them together. “Kev’s is all messed up, too.”

  “Speaking of him,” Jewel cut in, brushing the sweep of hair out of his eyes, “how is he doing?”

  “Uncle Nick talked to his mom a couple hours ago, isn’t that right?” he asked, looking to the tall, broad-shouldered cop tenderly embracing the blonde-haired girl.

  Nick jumped in, saying, “He’s a little worse for the wear than this guy.” He settled a hand on Sean’s neck for a moment. “I’m afraid Kev sprained his wrist. He’ll have to wear a splint for a week or more.”

  Recalling the wide-eyed, red-haired boy, Devon felt a pang of remorse. The kid had taken to him in an instant, clearly hungry for a father figure. Maybe there was something he could do for him, as well as Sean.

  “You know what’s really cool about the whole thing?” Sean smiled widely, an impish twinkle in his eyes. “It gave Kev and me the best idea for a Halloween costume for him. He’ll be a mummy, dripping with gobs of fake blood.”

  The colorful image sprang to Devon’s mind. The playful side of him, one he normally suppressed, came out. “Hey, why stop there? You can go all out and have this really gross eye hanging out of one hole where the eye socket’s supposed to be.”

  “Cool!” Sean and Bree said in unison.

  Catching sight of the bloodthirsty look in the petite lady’s eyes, he chuckled. “You like that, huh? I’ve got loads more where that came from.”

  “Oh brother,” Sydney mumbled into Nick’s chest, slapping her forehead and shaking her head.

  Devon and the others laughed.

  Sean twisted to Jewel, and then said, “See, Mom, I told you dad would just love the idea of a Halloween party.”

  Arching an eyebrow, he locked gazes with Jewel again, asking, “Party?”

  Shrugging, she said, “We have an open house every year.”

  “Devon, if it’s a problem to hold it at your place, Nick and I can do it here.” Bree must have sensed his hesitancy.

  Five pairs of eyes zeroed in on him, pinning him to the spot. Perspiration dotted his forehead.

  A party? An open house? That meant the town’s people, nasty gossipers, curiosity quenchers, and judgment makers.

  Why should he host his own debauchment? He fixated on the two people he loved. Sean’s look held a wealth of hope and anticipation. While Jewel’s contained such compassion he swore he saw the glimmer of tears, making his heart squeeze.

  Make them happy, that’s what you promised. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Yippee!” Sydney, now fully awake, cried.

  “Cool!” Sean engaged him in a high five. The sound of their slapping palms rang out. “Oh, man, this is going to be the greatest one yet. We can clean out that old shed and make it into a haunted house.”

  Jewel moved to Devon, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely, and then dropped a gentle kiss on his cheek. The softness of her and her rose-perfumed body didn’t escape his notice.

  When she went to pull away, he held tight. Just the feel of her caused his breath to catch in the back of his throat. His heart hammered as her full, hard-tipped breasts pressed into his chest. With one touch he was set aflame. Reluctantly, he released her, stealing a quick, hard kiss before she backed away.

  A powerful surge of male possessiveness pulsed through him at the delicate flush sweeping across her cheeks. Hunger gnawed at him when he stared into her luminous violet eyes.

  Nick coughed, apparently sensing the obvious tension. “Maybe you’d like us to keep Sean again tonight. After all, you’re still on your honeymoon.”

  The knowing grin that slashed the other man’s face put Devon at ease. “Thanks, but we’ll take him home with us.”

  “Cool. Like a real family, right, Dad?” Sean asked.

  A frisson of panic bit at him, at the acceptance of his role in all of this. “Right, son, like a real family.” God help us all.

  ***

  Three days later, Devon jabbed at the keys on his laptop computer in his nearly barren library. Only the huge oak desk and burgundy leather chair had arrived on Monday. Everything else had been backordered. So here he sat in a shell of a room. That didn’t bother him so much; he adapted to most situations pretty well. It was the eerie stillness of the house that unnerved him.

  “You should be grateful for the peace and quiet,” he muttered under his breath. While waiting for a business call to come through from Texas, he attempted to fix one of several contract bidding sheets he’d screwed up over the last few days.

  Distractions had plagued him, intruding on his usually intense concentration when it came to his business. One major interference had gone back to work this morning. Jewel’s constant presence had shoved coherent thoughts right out the window. She hadn’t hovered or crowded him in any way, shape, or form.

  “No, she was much more subtle and didn’t even know it.”

  He’d given her free rein with decorating the place. If she could do half as good a job here as she’d done in her rental unit, Devon would be more than pleased.

  But he hadn’t counted on straining to hear every little noise she’d made from her light footsteps overhead, to rustling sounds as she unpacked, to her muffled voice speaking on the phone or to one of the movers, to her lilting singing. Nor had he bargained on her haunting fragrance drifting to him at the oddest of times. Never mind the fresh wave of memories he conjured up of tasting her strawberry-flavored lips.

  All of his musings rallied to the forefront in the daylight hours. In the shroud of night, he wrung every drop of passion out of both of them, driven beyond rhyme or reason. Like a man possessed he couldn’t get enough of her soft curves, gentle kisses, tender embrace, and sweet loving. Jewel had joked he was ruthless in the boardroom and relentless in the bedroom. She hadn’t been far off the mark.

  Punching in a key, he stared wide-eyed as the screen went blank. “Damn!” Frantically, he tried to retrieve all his hard work to no avail. “That woman is going to ruin me yet. That’s if she hasn’t already.”

  Dragging a hand through his hair, he blew out a breath. “Don’t blame her for your own mistakes.”

  She couldn’t help it if he acted like a teenager every time she drew near. All of it rested on his reactions to the graceful sensuality of the lady. Without conscious thought she plucked his heartstrings while stirring his senses to fever pitch. A rare but lethal combination.

  Shaking his head in disgust, he threw up his hands, saying, “I swear, I’m doomed. Wrecked.”

  Just then the cat leapt on to his desk, sha
king his gray fur into a wild frenzy. His heart jolted, senses alert. Breathing a sigh of relief, he said, “Damn cat. You know, the next time you go surprising people you may not be so lucky.”

  Curious gray feline eyes stared at him. Stretching his mouth open, he emitted a loud meow, and then pawed at the object he’d landed on.

  “Hey, cut that out, that’s Sean’s baby book. Don’t you go and mess it up.” The scratching stopped, and then the animal cocked his head. “You’re a strange one, you know that? And I’m worse for talking to a cat, one who doesn’t even have a name.” Frowning, he asked, “Have we tried Morris yet?”

  Two sharp meows rent the air.

  Devon held up his hands. “All right, you don’t like that one. How about Garfield?”

  He got a similar response as he did to the first suggestion.

  Disgusted, he said, “I’m done for the day, okay? Sean can try a couple more tonight when he gets home.”

  At the mention of his son’s name, the pawing began in earnest again. “I told you not to-” he cut himself off, wondering if this creature was trying to tell him something.

  “Yeah, right,” he muttered. But a doubt nagged at him as he focused on the thick, cloth-covered book. Over the last few days he’d had a chance to look at all the pictures inside. A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the sometimes funny, sometimes poignant photos of his son from infancy, to toddler, to various school age shots, to the last one of him in his football uniform.

  A ripple of alarm shot through his middle. “Football! Sean’s game.” He checked the gold watch on his wrist, and then cursed long and loud. Suddenly, he grew aware of the shadows cast across the gleaming hardwood flooring. “Five. Oh, man, am I in deep trouble.”

  He rubbed his face, debating whether to stay for the call from Tate or leave now and catch the last half of the game. Oddly enough, the cat stopped tearing at the baby book and started licking its paw.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” The cat meowed once. Devon grew concerned at the strange cat who had filled out considerably in the last week. “No, I am not going to believe you understand me. No way.”