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Moonlight Scandals

Page 38

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  Her gaze fell to the card on the table.

  With her heart now somewhere in her throat, she snatched up the card and all but tore it open. There was just one sentence. No name.

  Thought these would be an improvement.

  Slowly, she turned to her old Walmart beaded curtains that hung between the bedroom and the living room/kitchen area.

  Her fingers curled around the smooth beads as she whispered, “Devlin.”

  A knock sounded from her front door.

  Clutching the card in her hand, she didn’t let herself feel too much hope as she raced over to the door and threw it open.

  Her heart did stop then.

  Devlin de Vincent stood before her, his hair not as styled as normal and a few days’ worth of growth along his jaw. He made that look good, real good.

  But there was something utterly shocking about him as he stood in her doorway, those sea-green eyes fixed on her with hope, hunger, and something far more powerful.

  “You’re wearing jeans,” she blurted out.

  “What?”

  The card dug into her palm. “You’re wearing denim jeans.”

  “Yeah,” he said, confusion seeping into his gaze. “They’re jeans.”

  “Wow,” she murmured. “I didn’t think you owned jeans. Seriously.”

  One side of his lips twitched. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

  “No.” Snapping forward, she hit him on the chest. Not hard. It was more of a gentle love tap. “Where have you been? I was so afraid you weren’t going to come back. And everyone—”

  Devlin stepped into her apartment, and before she could say another word, his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. His lips moved over hers, kissing away anything she was about to yell at him. Devlin kissed like a man staking a claim, like someone who’d never had the luxury of doing so before.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, somehow he had the door closed behind them. “Did you like the beaded curtains?”

  She still held the card in her hand as she clutched his shirt with her other hand. Resting her head against his chest, she swallowed back tears. “Yes. They are an improvement.”

  “Perfect.”

  Drawing in a shaking breath, she pulled back and didn’t get very far, because the hand that was around the back of her head slipped to her neck.

  “Where is it?” His gaze searched her face. “The necklace? The ring?”

  “Oh. It was time.”

  His brows lifted.

  She fisted his shirt. “I thought . . . I was worried you weren’t going to come back.”

  “I told you I was.” He cupped her cheek. “Besides, I had to. I never did get to tell you the other part of the de Vincent curse.”

  She laughed as his face blurred. “No, no, you didn’t.”

  He smoothed his thumb over her jaw. “Our great-great-grandmother claimed that when de Vincent men fell in love, they did so fast and hard, without reason or hesitation.”

  “Really?” she whispered.

  “Really.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “I didn’t believe it.”

  “Obviously.”

  “But that changed. I met you,” Devlin said. “And now I do believe it.”

  Rosie smiled. “I guess that’s a good thing, then.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you.” She slid her hand to his cheek as he drew in an audible breath. “I’m in love with you, Devlin de Vincent, so it’s a good thing you’re cursed, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” His arms swept around her. “For once, it is.”

  Epilogue

  Dev lost himself.

  He lost himself every time he was with Rosie, and each time, he found a piece of himself that had been hidden away. This time was no different, even though her father had plied them both with enough liquor and pralines the night before that both him and Rosie were made of nothing but sugar and alcohol, so much so that any physical activity seemed unreasonable when they both collapsed into her bed, him grumbling about the damn glow-in-the-dark stars and her giggling like his drunken curses were the funniest thing ever. They’d passed out together in a tangle of arms and legs, arguing over whether or not the stars would adorn the ceiling of the bedroom in the house they were building together. There may have been a discussion about particleboard, and Dev had already accepted that there’d be beaded curtains in his home.

  Now their arms and bodies were tangled in a much different way.

  Dev moved above her and in her, one arm curled under her head, the other lower, his hand gripping her hip as he thrust between her thighs. Her legs were wrapped so deliciously around his waist, dragging him in as she lifted up, meeting every plunge. Passion soaked their skin, drenched their muscles and bones, and he wanted more.

  He always wanted more of her and he was never not ready for her—never not seconds away from tearing off his clothes and baring his body and his soul to her warm, welcoming arms. He could never get enough of the taste of her mouth or the salty musk of her skin. He could just never get enough of Rosie and her glow-in-the-dark stars, her ghost investigations that he now knew way too much about, and her damn beaded curtains.

  Being with Rosie was a revolution of the soul, and who in the hell would’ve thought he’d be so damn poetic now?

  He chuckled as he dragged the bridge of his nose down the elegant slope of her neck.

  “What are you laughing about?” she asked, her hands skating over his back, tracing the ropy lines of the scars with a care that nearly broke him each time.

  “Just . . .” He lifted his head and stared down at her, his thrusts slowing as he went deep enough to cause her to gasp. “Just thinking we’re probably sweating sugar and liquor.”

  “True.” She giggled.

  “And I was also thinking that you’re . . . you’re a revolution of my soul,” he admitted, pressing his hips flush to hers and feeling a little silly for speaking it out loud, but there were no secrets between them now. None at all.

  A wide, beautiful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as a sort of wonder filled her gaze. “You . . . you really think that?”

  “I know that.”

  Lifting her head, she curled her arm around his neck and kissed him—kissed him in a way that almost caused him to come right then. “I love you, Devlin.”

  He groaned as the words skated down his spine and he lost all semblance of control, just like Rosie knew he would, just like he did every time she said those words. He lifted her to him as he thrust in her, over and over, his mouth finding and claiming hers, and when she tightened and spasmed around him, there was no holding back. He lost himself in those moments of bliss, and as his heart slowed and their bodies stilled except for the heavy, sated pants of breath, he discovered that he had no problem with the power her love had over him.

  No problem at all.

  Who knew how much time had passed before he rolled off her. He didn’t go very far, snagging an arm around her waist and pulling her along with him so that her cheek rested on his chest.

  Staring down at the mess of curls, he idly dragged his fingers up and down her back as he thought about who he was and who he was now becoming. It had been a year since the night he’d started to lay his demons to rest and everything had changed. Not just for him.

  Julia and Lucian had married—eloped, actually—and were planning to welcome their first child in the summer in a ghost-free home. Gabe and Nikki had also married, but in a ceremony that had dominated the local news for weeks. They’d moved to Baton Rouge, to be closer to his son, William. After all, Nikki wanted William to spend as much time as possible with his younger half sister. Livie, who had been named after Nikki’s mother, was only three months old.

  Even Payton, his twin, was starting to come around. He was in town, staying at Dev’s place at the Port, and tonight they were all going to have their first family dinner. It was a beginning.

  And Dev . . . well, he was a different person
. . . mostly.

  He felt no remorse nor shame for what he’d done to stop Lawrence and his father. Maybe that made him a bad person, but he didn’t care and he knew Rosie didn’t, either. He wasn’t haunted by his actions even if his past still followed him into his sleep, but Rosie had always been there for those nights. With her kisses and her touches, her sighs and her very breath, she chased away those ghosts.

  Dev had to say he was a better man because of Rosie, but he would utterly destroy without a second thought anyone who harmed one strand of hair on Rosie’s head. That brutal part of him still existed. Always would for those he loved and cherished, and there was no one he was more in love with than Rosie.

  And it was time he proved it.

  “Hey.” He scooped a few of the curls from her face. “Could you do something for me?”

  “Depends.” She shifted so that her breasts pressed against his side in the most distracting way possible. Resting her chin on his chest, she grinned. “If you’re going to ask me to cancel the ghost investigation of Waverly Hills—”

  “I would never dream of doing that.” He laughed as he crooked his arm behind his head. “Can you lift your pillow up for me?”

  The corners of her lips turned down. “Um, what for?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She stared at him for a few moments and then she raised up onto an elbow as she reached over and lifted the pillow, revealing what he knew was under there, and he knew the exact moment she saw the small black box. She became so still, he wondered if she breathed. “Devlin . . .”

  He bit down on his lower lip. “Open it.”

  Her gaze swung back to him and then she sprang onto her knees, snatching up the box as she rested back on her haunches, completely comfortable in the nude. Slowly, she opened the box and gasped. “Devlin,” she repeated.

  Sitting up, he, too, rose to his knees as he took the box from her trembling fingers and plucked the ring from the velvet interior. His heart started pounding as he met her gaze and saw that her beautiful eyes were gleaming.

  “How long was that under there?” she asked, voice hoarse with emotion.

  The corners of his lips curled. “Just two days.”

  “Two days!” She clasped her hands together. “You had that under my pillow for two days and didn’t say anything?”

  “I was waiting for the perfect moment.”

  “Every moment is the perfect moment!”

  His grin spread. “I’m making this the perfect moment right now if you let me speak.”

  “Go ahead. Speak. I’m waiting.”

  He chuckled as he cupped her cheek with his other hand. “I never believed in love until I met you, Rosie. At least not for me, but you proved me wrong. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re a revolution for the soul, but what you don’t know is you’re so much more than that. You’re a balm to my soul, and while I know I don’t deserve you, I will spend every damn day of my life becoming worthy of you. Will you marry me, Rosie?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “No?” He blinked.

  “You already are worthy of me,” she insisted, and the tightness in his chest loosened. “You already deserved me and that is why I will marry you.”

  “Thank God,” he growled.

  Devlin de Vincent wasn’t sure who moved first or how the ring got on her finger, but he was kissing her and guiding her back to the bed, sinking into her, the woman who was to become his wife—the woman who stood up to the Devil and proved that even he could love.

  Acknowledgments

  None of this would’ve been possible without the TV show The Dead Files. I know. That sounds weird, but an episode about cursed land is what gave me the idea to write the first de Vincent book.

  I want to thank Tessa Woodward and the amazing editing, marketing, and publicity team, along with Kristin Dwyer; Jenn Watson; Social Media Butterfly; my agent, Kevan Lyon; my sub-rights agent, Taryn Fagerness; and my assistant and friend, Stephanie Brown. It really does take a team of people to publish a book.

  Special thank you to my friends, family, and fellow authors who help support me. You know who you are.

  And last but not least, thank you to YOU. Without you, there would be no stories.

  The de Vincent Series

  Have you met all the de Vincents? Make sure to check out the first two books in the spellbinding series.

  MOONLIGHT SINS

  Julia Hughes has always played it safe until she learned a very painful lesson. Now Julia’s starting over with a job in the Louisiana bayou, working for the infamous de Vincent family, the massively wealthy brothers who are haunted by a dark reputation and whispers of misdeeds. Hired to care for their troubled sister, Julia can't afford any distractions, but the menacing presence in the mansion and the ever-present temptation of the handsome Lucian de Vincent isn't something anyone can ignore.

  Julia knows better than to get wrapped up in Lucian. He’s from a world she can’t relate to. Plus, he’s her employer. But his wicked touch and sensual promises are too much to deny. What starts with a kiss ends with so much more.

  Lucian is the youngest brother—the wildest, most unpredictable one. He’s the unrepentant bachelor of the family, known for his escapades in and out of the bedroom, and he wants Julia. There’s something about her that makes Lucian want to lay himself bare, but some secrets are better left buried, right along with a past that could not only bring down a dynasty but also destroy Julia in the process.

  MOONLIGHT SEDUCTION

  Nicolette Bresson never thought she’d return to the de Vincents’ bayou compound. It’s where her parents work, where Nikki grew up . . . and where she got her heart broken by Gabriel de Vincent himself. Yet here she is, filling in for her sick mother. Avoiding Gabe should be easy, especially when so much of Nikki’s time is spent trying not to be stabbed in the back by the malicious hangers-on who frequent the mansion. But escaping memories of Gabe, much less his smoking-hot presence, is harder than expected—especially since he seems determined to be in Nikki’s space as much as possible.

  Gabriel spent years beating himself up over his last encounter with Nikki. He’d wanted her then, but for reasons that were bad for both of them. Things have now changed. Gabe sees more than a girl he’s known forever; he sees a smart, talented, and heartbreakingly beautiful woman . . . one who’s being stalked from the shadows. Now, Gabe will do anything to keep Nikki safe—and to stop the de Vincent curse from striking again.

  About the Author

  Jennifer L. Armentrout is the #1 New York Times and #1 internationally bestselling author of Wait for You and the Young Adult Lux and Covenant series, among other books. She writes steamy and fun New Adult and Adult romance under the pen name J. Lynn. She is published with Entangled Teen and Brazen, SHP, Disney/Hyperion, Tor, and Harlequin Teen. You can find her on Twitter @JLArmentrout or at her website, www.jenniferlarmentrout.com.

  www.avonromance.com

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  By Jennifer L. Armentrout

  The de Vincent Series

  Moonlight Scandals

  Moonlight Seduction

  Moonlight Sins

  Till Death

  Forever with You

  Fall With Me

  By J. Lynn

  Stay With Me

  Be With Me

  Wait for You

  The Covenant Series

  Daimon

  Half-Blood

  Pure

  Deity

  Elixir

  Apollyon

  The Lux Series

  Shadows

  Obsidian

  Onyx

  Opal

  Origin

  Opposition

  Gamble Brothers Series

  Tempting the Best Man

  Tempting the Player

  Tempting the Bodyguard

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, char
acters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  moonlight scandals. Copyright © 2019 by Jennifer L. Armentrout. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.

  Digital Edition FEBRUARY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-267458-6

  Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-267457-9

  Cover design by Amy Halperin

  Cover photograph by Wander Aguiar Photography

  Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.

  HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.

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