by Dani Collins
He knew firsthand how hard it was to be vulnerable in front of someone else. To let people see you in pain, lost, directionless. To hope that a kind word would be offered instead of humiliation or a tongue-lashing. And he fully understood her reluctance. From the very beginning, he had seen the similarities between them, the need to be strong in front of the world.
“I can’t,” she whispered, and the grief in her voice made him swallow.
“Of course you can.” He pulled her in tighter and closer until her breasts were crushed against his chest, her legs tangled with his. Until he could rest his chin on top of her head and there was no gap between their bodies. “But until you can, let’s just agree that I’m encouraging you to lean on me.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked in a small voice that reminded Dev of himself on one of those bleak nights when he’d felt all alone in the world.
“Oh, didn’t you guess already, sweetheart? I thought you had my number.”
“I did,” she whispered then, and he was glad to distract her. “But you keep shifting on me. I can’t quite pin you down.”
He smiled then, glad that she was too preoccupied to look into his eyes. He didn’t like that she saw so much of him that he usually kept hidden from the world. From even his twin.
Slowly, ever so slowly that it felt like an eternity, the stiffness dissolved from her frame. Her breathing relaxed its harsh rhythm.
And then he heard the sniffle. The soft gasp that she swallowed away before he could fully hear it. He didn’t let go. Only gave her enough room to adjust her head until her cheek settled against his chest and he could feel the dampness of her tears soaking through his shirt to his skin. For a man who’d always avoided emotional entanglements, he felt no urgency to restore the distance between them or to redraw their professional boundaries.
He had no idea how long he held her like that. He didn’t care if an eternity passed. There was something about Clare Roberts that had appealed to him from the first moment he met her. And the more he got to know the different facets of her, the more he found her irresistible.
Eventually, the sniffles stopped and she let out a small sigh. But she made no move to tell him she wanted him to release her. So Dev didn’t.
Slowly, seconds cycled to minutes and the air around them began to fill up with something else.
Dev became more and more aware of the soft press of her breasts against his chest. Of the heat radiating from the line of her spine as he rubbed his thumb up and down her back. The dip of her waist and the flare of her hips under his other palm. Of how small and dainty she was in his arms.
Sensation began to crawl back into his limbs and muscles, in the wake of that awareness. She shifted against him—rubbing her soft belly against his muscled one, and a dart of pleasure shot low into his abdomen.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, you know,” Dev explained, clearing his throat. Needing to puncture the building heat between them, he gently nudged her shoulders back until she wasn’t touching him, so he could think straight again. “When you said Goon Number One, it felt like we were stuck in a...”
She didn’t look up, but he felt her mouth open in a smile against his arm. The warmth of her breath felt like a brand on his skin through the thin material of his shirt. “In a nightmarish B-list horror movie? Believe me, I know exactly how that feels. Until I remember that man’s smile and everything becomes all too real again.”
“He’s not going to get you, Clare. I’m not going to let him.”
“I want to believe you. I do believe you. I just... How though? How long am I going to have to keep running? How am I going to—”
Dev tipped her chin up. After the tears, her eyes gleamed brightly. As if she’d come out on this side stronger and more determined. “You’re sure it’s him you saw tonight?”
“Absolutely. I’d give anything to be told that it wasn’t.”
Dev nodded. He had no reason to doubt her belief that the henchman had tailed her this far. Not when all his sources said the crime lord that Clare owed money to was a seriously dangerous man. Which meant it was time for action.
“You’ll stay here tonight. In my suite. We can’t take the risk of him nabbing you right out of the lift or even from your own suite.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue and then closed it. With a resigned sigh, she nodded. Stepping back, she looked around his suite. Dev didn’t miss the wariness that crawled back into her eyes. He knew she was looking for Angelina.
“I... I know that it’s inconvenient for you to have me here tonight but I’ll keep quiet as a mouse.”
“I’m not sure if I can stay quiet however,” some devil goaded him to say. “As you very well know, I’m quite voluble when it comes to...”
Her palm pressed against his mouth. “You’re playing with me.”
Dev tugged her wrist away. “Am I?”
“I jumped to conclusions, yes. The thing is I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what?”
“Tell a man that I want to be the one he kisses. Well, except for the last time. With you. Which was my first time.”
He couldn’t help but feel slightly shocked. She’d been so responsive he’d never guessed. “I know it’s far too late for this, but I hope I...fulfilled at least part of your fantasy that night.”
“You did,” she said simply, and Dev knew she’d given him something precious and priceless. Something he wasn’t sure he deserved.
It was just that every tentative smile and admiring glance that Clare threw his way had to be earned. It felt like he was constantly winning a prize—precious parts of her that she was reluctant to part with.
“Angelina is absolutely not my current squeeze, Clare. You ran away before I could clarify that. Plus, do you think I’d dare break the law laid down by you?”
“It’s not funny,” she said, coming closer.
His every muscle tightened with want as the scent of her reached him afresh. There was no hesitation or anger or reluctance in her gaze or in her steps just then. She looked as if she was determined to claim something for herself tonight. As if fear had washed away whatever kept her caged, instead of doing the opposite. She looked at him as if he was a prize. And yet he was nothing close to that.
“No, it’s not. But you’re determined to see me as some kind of rogue.”
“You are a rogue. You’re just not...” She looked away and back at him. There was a new light in her eyes, and Dev knew he should cut this conversation short right now. Knew that things were spiraling out of his control.
But damn it, the woman was irresistible. Even when she was busy thinking the worst of him—again.
“So she isn’t your lover?”
“Nope.”
Pink flushed her cheeks but she didn’t shy from his gaze. His own humor came flooding back as he saw the inherent challenge in the lift of her stubborn chin. “It’s just you did promise me that you wouldn’t take any chances with your reputation right now.”
Dev stared at how easily the damn woman shifted from terrified to assertive.
“So ask me,” Dev said, lobbing the ball back at her. “You know you’re dying out of curiosity. Ask me who she is, Clare.”
If he thought she’d lift her nose into air and tighten that upper lip in fake haughtiness, he wasn’t wrong. She did all those delicious things that made Dev like her so much. But she never ceased to surprise him.
Head held high, she demanded, “Who was that woman, Dev?” She looked like she meant to say more, but to his disappointment, she locked those words away.
She was standing so close now that he could see the pulse fluttering away at her neck. Could see the resolve glinting in her eyes.
“That was my best friend Derek Lansang’s wife. The one that should have come to dinner with us. Not that I’ve ever gotten involved wit
h a married woman, I hasten to add.”
“She was very possessive of you.”
Dev grinned, wondering if she knew how she sounded. “Angelina acts like that with every man she knows. It drives Derek crazy, but it’s part of the woman he married. Despite their frequent spats, they do love each other. And I have some scruples, Clare. Just not as many as you.”
Her shoulders ramrod straight, her gaze didn’t budge from his even when she was in the wrong. Like Mama had done so many times. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Dev repeated, enjoying seeing her squirm.
Had she been jealous? Clingy, drama-creating women had never been his favorite kind, and yet there was something about being wanted by Clare that shredded his control.
“So that was Derek Lansang, the football player’s wife,” Clare mused. “I thought she looked familiar.”
Dev nodded.
Blue eyes met his and held. “I was jealous,” she said simply, and Dev wondered if he’d misheard her.
He had released his arms from around her, but her palms still clung to the material of his shirt.
“I... I had a lovely time at the dinner, playing your partner and I...got caught up in the fantasy of it. And when she appeared and you went off together like you were her knight in shining armor, I had this...most distasteful feeling in my belly. I know we laid down all these rules, and I have no right to feel jealous, but—”
Dev had never thought himself a man particularly prone to having an unruly heart. And yet something somersaulted inside his chest as he looked into her blue eyes. The lashes were still tinged with wetness and her straight nose was red; she should have looked ordinary. But the resolute strength of her character made her beautiful instead.
“But what, Clare?” he prompted, his voice hoarse.
“As I stood in that lift, I realized how sick I was of being afraid. How out of control my life has been ever since that man...started dogging my footsteps. How I’ve been just counting each day, longing for it to be over. How I’ve always tried to be the quiet, good girl who never demanded anything. Of herself or anyone else.” And then she came closer and Dev could see the tremble in her lush pink lips. “I’m so angry. I’m furious about how much this bloody mobster is cheating me out of. I might escape him again tomorrow, but having this shadow always hovering over me, it’s really not making much of a difference, is it? I could escape him every day for the rest of my life but still never be free.”
“And that makes you mad?” Dev asked.
“That makes me...crazy,” she said. And then her gaze focused on the now. On him. Dev felt his heart kicking like a mad thing against his rib cage again, and desire ran thick and heavy in his veins.
“So I’ve decided I’m not going to be scared anymore. I’m not going to simply lie down and give up. I’m not going to let every moment be consumed by fear. I’m going to seize the damned day.”
“How?”
“For starters? I’m going to kiss you very thoroughly, as I’ve been wanting to ever since I woke up in your closet.” Thick lashes flickered up and down his body before she met his gaze again. “If you’re willing, that is.”
Dev exhaled a long breath. Damn it, did the woman have any idea how arousing her artless honesty was? “Assuming I was—”
She cut his words off by trailing her fingers all over his chest. His heart pounded under her palm. The anticipation of a single kiss lit a fire in his blood like never before. But then something about Clare—that irresistible combination of honest, innocent passion, made his nerves sing.
“You are willing. That’s all that matters to me. Yes, I already know your usual disclaimer. I don’t care what this leads to or how long it lasts. I just want to feel this moment, live in it. Before all I remember about it is that I ran away from it. Before the only thing that will stay with me about this beautiful evening in this beautiful city is that...that bastard contaminated it for me.”
She didn’t leave it to chance. No, she hedged her bets to the highest, by tightening her fingers at the nape of his neck, going up on her toes until her breaths were crushed against his chest and she was burying her face in the hollow of his throat.
Dev’s pulse pounded when she boldly touched her tongue there. Every muscle contracting on a wave of pleasure as she gently nipped the skin between her teeth. Every intention and rule he’d ever laid down for himself forgotten when she blew softly on the tiny mark she’d given him.
His hands on her hips tightened without conscious thought, and then he was pulling her even more tightly against him, until he knew she could feel his growing erection against her belly. She was gasping against his chin and then there it was...her luscious mouth against his—finally.
A stab of pure lust coursed through him as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her moan fired up every nerve ending as he licked at the seam of those lips, suddenly voracious for more.
He reached for the round curve of her bottom with his fingers and hitched her higher against him. “Yes, please,” she whispered against his mouth, and Dev lost the last bit of good sense he possessed.
As he delved deeper into the warm cavern of her mouth, as he tangled his tongue with hers, pressing her against the wall and drinking her in hungrily, the shape of the future—at least the immediate future—seemed to coalesce in his brain.
She needed his help. He couldn’t turn away from the fact. So why not marry their problems and come up with the perfect solution?
He could show the world that he was settling down and changing his playboy image, and here was the perfect woman to do it with. If he felt a momentary doubt about whether he should be further involved with a woman who saw far too much of him all too clearly, it evaporated in the heat of their kiss. And anyway, not being tied down to any woman—even one as complex as she waswas his true nature. He’d be able to walk away afterward, just like he always did.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CLARE HAD LONG forgotten what it meant to feel vulnerable. If she’d ever known it as an adult, that was.
Once she’d been dropped off on her unwilling aunt’s doorstep, she had, for the most part, learned to bury any emotional needs. She’d learned to keep her head down, work hard; in essence to be a quiet, good child with no demands. Either of her aunt or herself.
All the silly dreams she had kept building about her dad returning, though, she realized now were just those—something to sustain her through a barren childhood. As she had turned into an adult with little contact with him, she’d learned to foresee any need or want that might not be fulfilled and crushed it.
The need to be loved—unconditionally, of course—had to be the first one to die.
Vulnerability, she had realized long ago, was a costly thing for her. Her aunt had been the embodiment of the British stiff upper lip, and after a while, Clare had seen the value in it. But today, as she had walked away from Dev, while Angelina had wrapped herself like a vine around his broad shoulders, Clare had been drenched in a surfeit of emotions. As if everything she’d ever denied herself was determined to fill her up.
When Dev had opened the door to her, even through the spine-chilling fear, she’d felt the urgency to snatch what she could from life. To stop spending it burying herself in pros and cons. To put herself out there and live.
As Dev held her for his devastatingly hot kiss, fingers plunged into her hair, her body sang with spiraling pleasure. If only her every act of vulnerability could be rewarded in such a delicious way...
In the passionate depths of his kiss, she felt as if she was rediscovering the dizzying sense of being alive again. As if she was shedding layer after layer of all those sterile restrictions with which she’d caged herself. As if she was finally seeing the core of her own self on glorious display for the first time in years.
This had the potenti
al to be as vivid and soul shaking as the fear had been. Except this was something she was choosing. This was something she wanted and needed and deserved.
This man and this moment and this...unparalleled, total joy in a kiss.
Pleasure suffused through her every nerve, deepened by a giddy sense of power that he was just as mad for her taste as she was for his.
The shocking carnality of his kiss, because with Dev—a kiss was far more than just the slide of their mouths—it was a hungry, sensual exploration, a prediction of what their bodies could do for each other, and it rocked Clare to her soul. Every sweep of his tongue against hers, every nip of his teeth into the trembling flesh of her lower lip goaded her on. Every groan he let out filled the void she’d knowingly carved into her own life.
No more, she told herself. She was done hiding from life. Once she made up her mind, Clare had never been a passive participant.
The fabric of his shirt bunched satisfyingly within her grip. She snuck her fingers underneath, finding warm, delightfully taut skin. His powerful body shuddered when she raked her nails gently down his chest.
A fresh burst of desire bloomed low in her belly, urgent and grasping.
She set her fingers trailing up and down his chest and down to his abdomen. The clench of the hard muscle, the rough groan that fell from his mouth, the tightening of his fingers over her bottom...everywhere he touched, new pockets of sensation opened up.
There was already a familiarity to how they touched each other. A languid understanding of what the other craved, a rhythm to the give and take they engaged in. Clare delighted in this knowledge. And she used it ruthlessly, no longer bound by her own confining rules.
That first night they had spent together a few weeks ago, she’d let him take the active role. That was nowhere near enough for her anymore. She loved the light dusting of hair on his chest. She wanted to lick the hard slab of his abdominal muscles.
Why had she denied herself the life-affirming sight of that happy trail?