Sizzle

by Sarah O'Rourke

  “Nope.” Devil shook his head.

  “Well, then it’s shady.”

  “Not really,” Devil drawled.

  “Undo it, Devil,” Molly demanded harshly, dropping her hands to her hips. “All of it.”

  “Can’t.” He shrugged again. This time, however, he had the good sense to quell the smile that hovered around his lips. The steady stream of smoke rising from her ears didn’t seem all that funny at the moment. “It’s done, Molly. Just enjoy being debt-free,” he recommended smoothly.

  “No! I can’t enjoy being debt free, you interfering son of an ass! Do you want to know why?” she asked huffily, flapping her arms at her sides. “It’s because I’m not debt free, Devil! I just traded in a bunch of little creditors for one single big creditor. YOU!!” she shouted, jabbing her finger toward him.

  How in the world did he suddenly become the evil villain in this morality play? She acted like he’d committed some kind of heinous crime, and he felt himself growing angry. “You don’t owe me anything, Molly. I paid your debts. Consider it an engagement gift.”

  “You don’t spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a gift, Devil. I feel like I’ve been bought and paid for, and I do NOT care for the experience,” Molly spat. “You crossed a line. No, wait. You didn’t just cross the line. You firebombed it. Figure out a way to undo this,” she ordered him sternly. “I don’t want to owe you for anything.”

  “You’re overreacting and being completely ridiculous, Molly,” Devil growled, coming to his feet with the full power of his convictions behind him. “I’m a millionaire. I can afford to pay a few insubstantial bills.”

  Blinking, Molly’s face hardened to stone. “Did you just call me ridiculous? Tell me that I didn’t hear that correctly,” she urged him as her eyes glinted dangerously.

  “Would you have preferred that I said you were being childish? They both seem to fit at the moment,” Devil snapped quickly, instantly regretting his word choice as she took a step back from him and he watched a flash of hurt dim her bright eyes. “Molly…” he began to apologize, taking a step toward her.

  And in that one moment, Molly realized that her feelings, her needs were seemingly inconsequential to the mega-millionaire standing before her. Throwing up a hand to ward him off, Molly glared at him. “Don’t you dare ‘Molly’ me in that tone. I’m not going to be placated. Why, you ask? The answer is very simple. It’s because I’m not a child nor am I acting childish. I’m angry. Why? Because I’m seriously pissed that a domineering, controlling jerk of a man decided to hijack my fricking life! I’m livid that you went behind my back and made decisions that affected me without having even consulted me. You do not make my decisions, Devil. Not now, not ever.”

  “Your independence is that important to you? It was a few bills, Molly, not the national debt,” Devil replied, his jaw clenching. Christ, he had millions. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to make her life easier. As his wife, she’d be entitled to half of everything anyway. And he wanted her to have the money! The most he was guilty of was getting a jumpstart on the process of sharing his wealth with her, right?

  “They were my bills to pay, and yes, my independence does mean quite a lot to me. I’ve worked hard at getting it. Believe me, it wasn’t an easy task, either, with you and Grant always hovering around me.”

  “All either of us ever wanted to do was protect you,” he defended himself immediately.

  “I don’t need that kind of protection,” Molly countered, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched him pace.

  “Well,” he began with a heavy sigh, “All I can say is that if paying off your debts has pissed you off this much, then, for the love of God, don’t check your bank account.” He turned away from her to pace the length of the kitchen. His shoulders were stiff as he felt her staring at him. He was probably an idiot for even turning his back on her.

  When she realized what he’d done, she’d probably plant a knife in it.

  Hopefully, she’d be merciful and make it a quick, clean kill. He’d hate to linger.

  Chapter Thirty

  Molly fumed as she heard his last mumbled remark. Opening her mouth to ask him what he’d done now, she abruptly closed it and opted instead to snatch her cell phone off the kitchen table. She’d rely on her trusty bank app to tell her what she needed to know. Who needed an overbearing giant anyway? Not her, that was for sure.

  Tapping in her bank login quickly, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared down at the small screen. Closing her eyes, she felt panic claw at her throat while she tried to process the balance reflected in her personal account.

  $500,327.56

  In ten lifetimes, Molly knew she’d never have a balance that high in her bank account. There was no way. Ever.

  There was only one way she’d ever have that much money in her account, and she was going to marry him.

  Lifting her eyes as she dropped the phone back on the table, she stared at her benefactor’s back and wondered at his audacity. Not only had he paid her bills, but naturally, he’d assumed that she was for sale, too.

  “Five hundred grand, huh?” she mused softly. “Is that the going rate for a wife, Devil?” she asked, carefully keeping her voice calm and level. “Where did you do your research? Brides R Us? Wife for Hire, Incorporated?”

  Turning, Devil eyed her warily across the room. “Don’t be crass, Molly,” he admonished huskily.

  “Crass?” Molly cocked her head and smiled blandly. “That’s not crass, Devil. Crass would be if I asked you which part of me you were paying to get? My hand or my pussy? Or, were you hoping you could cut a deal for both. Sort of a “buy one, get one free sale”?”

  “That’s enough!” Devil barked sharply as he spun on his heel to face her. He’d be damned if she devalued herself one more time in his presence.

  Meeting his glittering gaze, she saw how her questions had enraged him and felt a momentary burst of satisfaction. “What?” she asked innocently.

  “Be careful, Molly,” Devil warned, his jaw clenching. “You’re wandering perilously close to pissing me off. I would never attempt to buy you. You are not a whore, and one more remark like the ones you’ve been making is going to force me to take actions I know you won’t appreciate.”

  “Like what?” Molly snapped.

  “Like turning you across my knee and paddling your ass,” Devil growled, his blue eyes darkening as he stared at her.

  “Well, that would cost you extra, honey,” she informed him with saccharine sweetness. “What do hookers charge for BDSM play these days?” Seeing his eyes dilate slightly and his nostrils flare, she knew she’d struck a nerve.

  “Molly…”

  “Oh, did I go too far, Dev?” she asked with exaggerated patience. “Did that sting a bit? Imagine how I feel! I was bought and paid for,” she yelled, grabbing her phone again and waving it in front of him. “To the tune of half a million dollars! Should I strip right here so that you can get some return on your investment?” she shouted. The longer he stood there like a statue watching her, the more agitated she grew. “Go ahead, say something! Tell me how I’ve misunderstood your intentions, Devil. Tell me how I haven’t just been purchased like some slut standing on the street corner!”

  Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

  “Refer to yourself as a whore one more time, Margaret, and I swear to God, you won’t sit for a week. And when I’m done spanking you, I’ll personally hand you over to your big brother and let him take over,” he threatened, his deep voice vibrating with anger as he made his threat.

  “I don’t care what you do,” Molly spat harshly. “Just make sure you get your money’s worth out of me. I know how you hate to lose money on a bad business deal,” she sneered while she tried to ignore the burning in her eyes. She would NOT cry, damn it! She would not allow this insufferable prick the satisfaction of making her cry!

  “Honey.” Devil grimaced as a tear drop slipped out of Molly’s eye. “You’re crying. Don’t
cry,” he groaned, hurrying toward her.

  Well, damn, Molly thought furiously, lifting a hand to wipe at the moisture on her face. Throwing up her other hand when Devil would have pulled her against him, she shook her head and took a step backward. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  Moaning softly as he ignored her protests and pulled her against his body, Molly buried her face in Devil’s broad chest while tears slipped down her cheeks. She hated it when she was this mad. She lost all control of her emotions and more often than not, her rage manifested in tears. “I am not crying because I’m hurt. I’m crying because I’m PISSED! Keep that straight, Devil!” she sobbed into his shirt as his big, comforting hand slid up and down her back.

  “I know, sweetheart,” Devil soothed softly, resting his chin on her forehead. “Go ahead and be as mad as you want,” he rumbled, keeping his arms wrapped around her.

  She was mad for several long minutes during which he held her in his arms, rocking her back and forth. When the worst of her anger had dissipated, Molly sniffled against his shirt. Sighing as she caught the scent of his aftershave, she leaned weakly against him. He always smelled good, and for a second she closed her eyes and let his masculine scent comfort her. How insane was this? Seeking solace from her tormenter had to rank right up there with falling in love with a serial killer, she thought dryly to herself as his hands smoothed up and down her back, massaging the tense knots in her spine.

  Both were completely stupid and dangerous actions that could seriously get a woman mortally wounded if she wasn’t very careful.

  Lifting her head to stare into Devil’s deep, dark eyes, she realized that the biggest risk of all to her safety was the one she was taking with her heart. He might not be a serial killer, but Devil Delancy was twice as deadly to her.

  And that scared her to death.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Staring into Molly’s teary gaze, Devil felt about an inch tall. Reducing a woman to tears…even if they were enraged tears… had never been his style. He was known for being a smooth operator, but with this woman he’d done everything wrong.

  Where the hell was his much vaunted charm now?

  “I’m sorry, Molly,” he apologized softly, lifting a hand to caress her damp cheek. “I never meant to make you cr-… angry,” he amended quickly when her green eyes narrowed on his face. “That was never my intention.”

  Sniffling, Molly lifted a hand to wipe her nose. “I’m not sure I want to know what your intentions were, Devil. The only thing I know is that you need to get that money out of my account and tell me how much I owe you so that we can work out some sort of payment plan.”

  “Molly, there isn’t much that I wouldn’t do for you, but I’m not going to change anything I’ve already done. You’re going to be my wife. You’ll be entitled to half of everything I have. In that vein, I’m just getting a head start on sharing my worth with you.”

  “I’m going to be a pretend wife in a fake marriage,” Molly clarified sharply, needing to find some balance in her world that was obviously teetering on the edge of disaster. “That doesn’t entitle me to jackshit as far as I’m concerned. Just hand me a ring from a bubblegum machine and we’ll get this Greek tragedy underway,” she ordered, reaching for another napkin from the table and mopping her face with it.

  Devil tamped down on his urge to shake her until her teeth rattled. It wouldn’t curry favor and her still-wet cheeks were enough to dampen the momentary need to yell. But, Jesus, she was testing him. If he didn’t act fast, he was going to go down on his knees and beg her to believe in him.

  Just a fucking little bit.

  Breathing deeply as she dabbed at her nose with another crumpled napkin, he forced himself to silently count to ten. Blowing up and getting angry wouldn’t work with Molly. She responded to reason and logic. She needed order and discipline.

  And he needed to get them back on track before he tackled her to the floor of his kitchen and showed her exactly how he felt about her – condom or no condom.

  Grabbing her wrist, he dragged her toward the door. “Come with me,” he demanded when she began to protest, hauling her through the formal dining room and back into the living room. Pushing her none too gently onto the couch, he pointed one long finger at her. “Sit and stay,” he ordered imperiously.

  “Should I heel and fetch on command as well?” she yelled to his retreating back as he walked toward the picture hanging on the wall opposite the sofa.

  Ignoring her as Molly continued to mumble under her breath about self-righteous men and their arbitrary commands, Devil removed the framed Monet that hung on the wall and quickly punched a security code into the safe that the painting had hidden. Easily finding the black velvet box he sought, he heaved a relieved breath as he wrapped his hand around the ring box and extracted it from the safe. Quickly closing the door and replacing the painting, he returned to stand in front of the still-ranting woman he was going to marry. He had intended on talking to her father first, but desperate situations called for desperate measures.

  “Sweetheart, you realize that you’re talking to yourself, right?” he asked, kneeling to squat in front of her.

  “Maybe that’s because I’m the only one that listens to me anymore,” Molly snapped, glaring at him. “And if you give me dog commands again, I’m going to buy a Great Dane and train him to eat YOU.”

  Devil choked on a laugh. He could see by the look in her eyes that she was completely serious, and he definitely wouldn’t put it past her. “Sorry about that,” he murmured. “I needed to grab something out of the safe and didn’t want to take the chance that you’d bolt while I was occupied. The neighbors might not understand if they watched me tackling a woman to the ground in my driveway in the dead of night. I do have a reputation as a serious businessman to maintain.”

  “Trust me, Devil, a businessman is the least of what you’re known for in Atlanta,” Molly grumbled as she shoved her hair behind her ears.

  “Well, I happen to know that marrying you will improve my reputation tremendously. At the very least, it will put me in a better mood,” he offered with a wink at her.

  “Don’t bet on it,” Molly replied with a snort of derision. “You’ve never been married to me, Dev.”

  “I will be shortly.” Taking a deep breath, he smiled with confidence that he wasn’t exactly sure he felt. “This will make it official.” He cracked open the velvet box in his hand and pulled out the diamond ring inside. “In the kitchen, you said you were going to be a fake wife in a pretend marriage, Molly. Those were your words.”

  “I know what I said, Devil.” Molly crossed her arms over his chest and eyed him suspiciously. “Everything I said is true.”

  Holding the ring between his thumb and index finger, he lifted it in front of her nose. “No, Molly, it isn’t. This is very, very real,” he confided quietly. “Three generations of Delancy women wore this ring. You’ll be the fourth.” He reached for her hand and frowned when she snatched it out of his grip.

  Jerking backward, Molly’s rigid shoulders met the couch cushions as her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Is that the…the Delancy Diamond?” she asked tightly. “The ring Nana always talks about?”

  “One and the same.” Devil nodded. “Now, it’s Molly’s diamond,” he explained while he reached for her cold hand again.

  “No, Devil. No, no, no, no, NOOOOO!” Molly shook her head furiously, quickly shoving both her hands behind her back.

  Staring into her frightened eyes, Devil’s heart softened as he realized that she wasn’t being deliberately obstinate. That was honest-to-God fear he saw shining in her expressive, green eyes. “Honey, it’s just a ring,” Devil soothed, rubbing her leg with the hand not holding the engagement ring.

  “Bullshit,” Molly charged tersely. “I’ve been in this family my whole life, Devil. I know the stories about that ring,” she panted, nodding at the sparkling gem in his hand. “Nana told me that once that ring goes on a woman’s finger, it only com
es off when somebody’s in a pine box. I have no intention of dying anytime soon, and as much as the idea of murdering you had appealed to me, I don’t really think it’s an appropriate way to get out of a marriage. I’d probably serve time and orange just isn’t my color!”

  “Molly, it’s a ring,” Devil stated calmly, squeezing her calf muscle gently. Sweet Lord in heaven, he had to find a way to get this very ring on her finger...and quickly.

  “Nuh uh,” she denied, her thoughts running rampant as she tried to take control of the situation. “Pick another ring. You’ve got a jeweler on speed dial. I’m sure the guy that sells all the necklaces would love a tidy commission on a small engagement ring.”

  “I’m not going to a jeweler, Molly.” Devil shook his head gravely as he watched Molly chew on her bottom lip.

  “Fine! A pawn shop then. Plenty of divorced women hock their rings once the ink is dry on the divorce decree. Hell, I don’t care if you fish one out of a Cracker Jack box! I’m just not wearing the Delancy diamond,” she refused adamantly. Wearing the Delancy diamond would make this entire farce just a bit too real for her...would make her too connected to him. And as much as she might actually want that very thing, she just couldn’t allow it to happen. The consequences were too great. Weren’t they?

  “This is the ring that Nana wants to see you wearing, babe,” Devil reminded her softly. “It’s the ring that I want you to wear. It’s the only ring I’m going to put on your finger. So, do us both a favor and simply offer me your hand,” he coaxed gently. He’d never imagined giving this family heirloom to a woman before, but in that moment he decided that he wanted Molly Ramsey to wear his ring more than he wanted to draw his next breath.

  Molly lifted a hand to rub her face and scratch her neck frantically. “Would you please stop!” she begged. “First, you tell me that you want me to sign a year-and-a-half of my life over to you. Then, you nearly have sex with me. Next, I find out that not only have you taken my credit report and wiped it clear of any debt I had, but you also put half a million dollars in my personal bank account. And now, you’re trying to put a priceless freaking family heirloom that essentially curses us to a life together on my freaking finger! It’s enough,” she cried almost hysterically, moving the hand at her neck to her arm and clawing the itching skin furiously. Glancing down at her arm, her jaw dropped. “And now you’ve given me hives, to boot!” she shrieked, staring in horror at her mottled skin as she took shallow breaths.