Crimes of the Heart (18 page)

Thumping his chest, he said fiercely, “We’ll do it together.”

A raw, choking noise erupted instead of the chuckle she’d intended. “You’ll be gone and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces for both Sean and me.”

Clamping his eyes shut for a long moment, he seemed to fight himself. A muscle jerked along his jaw. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t deny what she’d said. It hurt her, but she clung to her earlier decision. “I guess I forgot.” He hesitated for a moment. “Once upon a time I used to think we could do anything together.”

Me, too
.
I’d convinced you that we could. Maybe we still can
. “All I ask is that you stay long enough to weather the fallout with Sean. After that you’re free to go.”

Focusing on her, he scanned her expression, obviously reading the sincerity there. “If I say yes you’ll help me then?”

Something sharp sliced through her.
Will he make that a condition? Will he manipulate me, try to use his power, to do as he hoped?
Drawing on her courage, she pushed back her shoulders. “I won’t actively be a party to exposing or destroying my father.”

A flicker of admiration lit in the depths of his eyes, and then faded just as quickly. “I didn’t think you would. But I had to try one last time. And, for your information, I was never going to desert our son.”

A mixture of relief and hurt poked at her middle. “Just me, right?”

He winced visibly. “I can’t give you any more than what I’m offering, Jewel. The present.”

“Don’t you even plan for a future?”

Shrugging, he allowed, “Only in one thing: my vengeance.”

She gasped as if struck anew. “That’s what you live for, isn’t it?”

“It’s kept me going in the darkest hours.”

The pain in his voice told her so much more than his simple words. An invisible hand squeezed her heart. Tears smarted the backs of her eyes. “I have no excuse. And no concrete defense for not leaving with you. No matter what I say, or how I say it, nothing will ever change what I did, for staying with what was safe for me back then. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I wish I could wipe the hurt from your heart, but I know I can’t.”

Clearly awe struck, he stared wide-eyed at her. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said anything like that.”

She shot him a watery smile. “I guess you’re not the only one who has some things to fix in order to make it right.” Digging into the front pocket of her jeans, she withdrew a small scrap of white paper. “This is something I think you should have.”

He eyed her outstretched hand warily. “What is it?”

Her hand trembled slightly. “It’s the name and number of my father’s last attorney. He may know the answers to what you’re looking for. Or he might know where to find out. He’s the one who called me last year to let me know my dad died and to tell me what was left to me.”

Confusion clouded his expression as he gingerly accepted the gift. “I thought you were disowned.”

Sadness throbbed to life. “In property, yes. But he left me something far better. It seems as if he couldn’t face me, even in the end. His stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it.”

“What was it?”

“A two word legacy.”

“Words?” His forehead wrinkled with his lack of comprehension. “What could he possibly have said to you after all that to make a difference?”

“I’m sorry.”

She waited for the meaning to sink in. Dawning hit him instantly as his jaw slackened and his eyes widened.

Gently, she said, “They never cost him a penny, but they meant the world to me.”

Shirtless, Devon leaned against the kitchen counter sipping his second piping hot mug of black coffee. He savored the rich, dark blend of roasted beans, hoping the caffeine would provide him with a jolt of much needed energy. Waiting for it to kick in, he spied the clock.

“Quarter past nine,” he muttered, willing the hands to move faster so he could redial the number Jewel had given him last night. “What kind of lawyer doesn’t open his office until ten?” he wondered aloud, having gotten a canned message on a machine on his first try.

I’ll get my answers to everything soon enough. What’s another forty-five minutes when I’ve waited years, anyway?

Even after the passage of nearly twelve hours Devon remained awed by his wife’s courageous act. He knew if he’d been in the same position he would have most certainly held back the information. On top of all that, he wondered how she could wipe out years of wrongs against her with a dead man’s apology. He doubted he could do the same.

A woeful meow sounded behind him. He turned slightly to see the cat walk gingerly along the windowsill, dodging the many pots of herbs and plants Jewel had placed there.

“You knock one down and I’m not going to rescue you when she tosses you out, understand?”

The gray feline stilled in his tracks, and then twisted his head to look at Devon and lifted its ears as if to consider the warning. He must have heard; he gracefully jumped to the counter, and then to the floor. With a purpose obviously born of fear, the car raced out of the room, leaving Devon to laugh softly at his antics.

Brilliant rays of morning sunshine streamed in the bank of windows behind him, highlighting the newly decorated room. With the exception of the modern conveniences, he’d stayed true to the original country look by restoring the red brick wall where the old-fashioned stove resided, glass-paneled cupboards, and pine flooring.

But the credit for the cozy atmosphere went all to his wife. Colorful rugs dotted the floor, a large bowl of fruit rested on the oval pine table, shiny cooper pots hung from hooks, and a scalloped blue valance lined the top of the windows, allowing enough decoration without blocking the natural lighting.

Shaking his head in admiration, he wondered how she could instinctively make a place a home with a few perfect touches. Images of the two other rooms she’d completed took hold. A smile tugged at his lips when he thought of how she had replicated her living room in this house. Repainting the walls a cranberry shade instead of stark white gave it more warmth and character. And thinking of their purple and teal bedroom sent his mind spiraling into forbidden areas.

His body responded nonetheless as a low tug of awareness knotted in his abdomen.

Clamping his eyes shut, he relished the memory of loving her all night long. He pacified himself into assuming it was his only way of thanking her for being so damn generous by supplying him with a name and number. But, if truth be told, he’d worshipped her heart, body, and soul with his lips, hands, whispered words, and his body because he loved her with everything he possessed.
I always have.

He opened his eyes wide as reality hit him. “Damn,” he cursed himself, knowing the longer he stayed the harder leaving would be. “It’s already too late.”

The full knowledge of it nearly rocked him. Coming back had been necessary for his revenge. But seeing Jewel again, touching her, tasting her, had shaken his strong hold on his assertion he didn’t need her to live.

“Liar! You can survive, going through the motions, but you can’t be alive without her in your life.”

Every part of him screamed for him to push past the walls between them. Something resisted. He figured it was his common sense or at least the tormented section of his heart still damaged from all they’d encountered.

The realist in him knew the poor boy never ended up with the golden life, not without a hefty price and that was always the beautiful rich girl. Their stations in life may have changed, but the fundamental facts of who they were and where they came from would never alter anyone’s perception, especially his.

“It’s just a matter of time,” he murmured, sadness creeping into his softly spoken words, “before she realizes I’ll never be good enough for her. She’d have realized it back then if I had stayed long enough.”
But I left before she lost all her illusions about us, about me.

Taking another sip of coffee, he detected light footsteps padding down the stairs. He hardened instantly when Jewel appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but his well-worn denim shirt. Lord, he’d never be able to put that on again without recalling how she’d only secured three buttons so he got a tantalizing glimpse of shadowed cleavage and how her long shapely legs peeked out from beneath the hem.

Gulping, he let his gaze travel back up her scantily clad figure. Liquid fire rushed through his blood stream, sparking latent flames of passion.

“Good morning,” she said huskily, leaning against the doorjamb. A sexy smile played around her mouth as she swept back a wave of her tousled, black hair. The shirt strained over her breasts at the action, causing him to swallow once again. The pink flush of sleep still colored her cheeks and she blinked lazily as if trying to wake.

He swelled even more, pulsing with each rapid heartbeat. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he choked out.

Pushing away from the frame, she walked to him and nodded. “Got any more of that?”

The devilish side of him emerged. “What, coffee or this?”

He tugged her close. A waft of her intoxicating perfume rose to his nostrils, making him slightly dizzy. Cradling her between his legs, the sweet pressure of her against him was nearly his undoing. A low, deep groan erupted from his chest.

She gasped, but didn’t pull away. Snuggling nearer, she feathered delicate kisses across his collarbone, making him shudder in delight. “Didn’t you get enough all night long?”

Hearing the smile in her voice, he realized she wasn’t complaining. Carefully, he twisted, placing the mug on the white tiled countertop. Turning back to her, he wrapped her in his arms. “Never.” It came out fiercer than he’d intended.

Stilling, she pressed her forehead to his chest. “Wanting isn’t enough though, is it?”

He dropped a tender kiss on her temple, and then whispered into her hair, “No, not for us.”

As she heaved a long, drawn-out sigh, Devon shivered inwardly at the warm brush of her breath on his bare skin. She tried to step back, but he held tight. By slow degrees he felt her stiffen. One minute she was soft and loving, the next she withdrew, standing in his embrace as if enduring his touch.

Swearing, he reluctantly released her. She backed up a pace. He shoved his mug at her, saying, “Here, drink up.” Frustration and despair hammered through him now.
Why couldn’t I just keep quiet?
Why does talking to her always have to end in a hassle?

Over the rim of the big flowered mug, she captured his stare. She sipped once, and then wrinkled her nose. “Needs sugar.”

Chuckling, he added the necessary dose of two heaping teaspoons, and then stirred. Metal clanged against ceramic. After taking another sip, she smiled, saying, “Perfect.”

No, you are
.

A deep furrow appeared between her brows. “Did Sean get off to school all right?”

Shrugging uncomfortably, he nodded toward the covered pot on the stove. “I made him some oatmeal. After he wolfed it down, he caught the bus just as it was pulling to a stop. There’s more if you want some.”

She shook her head swiftly and placed a hand on her middle. “No, thanks, I’m not up for anything solid right now.” The frown returned. “What about his lunch?”

“I gave him five dollars to buy some.”

With that the lines smoothed and she cupped the mug between her hands. Ducking her head, she said, “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

Warmth curled inside him. Sometimes the innocent side of her broke free, reminding him of how potent the rare combination of sweet and sexy could be. “Why don’t you go back up to bed and I’ll join you just as soon as I make my call.” The husky timber of his voice and all that it implied was unmistakable.

She sucked in a sharp breath and jerked her chin up so now she looked squarely at him. Her violet eyes darkened to a dusky hue, kicking him in the gut. “Why is it that all you have to do is say something and I melt?”

He caught the barely spoken words edged with desire. Drawing in gulps of air, his chest rising and falling rapidly, Devon gripped the edge of the counter and tried to gather his thoughts. “Not always.”

“Most of the time.”

Reality intruded as he scanned her delicate features.
So silky, so fragile.
He swore he saw a flash of fear in the depths of her eyes. Suddenly it was gone, making him wonder if it had been there at all. But it had. For a brief moment, she’d revealed the alarm of not knowing what the future held for her, for them. “Lord, what are we doing to each other?”

Moving so now she stood beside him, she placed the cup on the counter. It connected with a muted clatter. Watching her profile closely, he witnessed the trembling of her lower lip. She caught it between her teeth to halt the motion. He reached out, covering her clasped hands.

“I’m all right,” she said with a tremor threading her voice.

A flash of temper poked him. “Oh really, do you always shake when you’re fine?”

“Maybe it’s just the effect you have on me. You know, you always did disturb me, in all senses of the word. I remember thinking as a teenager you were dangerous.” Sliding a sideways glance at him, she gave him a tight smile. “You still are.”

He’d never known how she’d viewed him, then or now. He shoved away from the counter. Pacing the room, he jammed his fisted hands into his jean pockets. “You mean, deadly, don’t you?” Bitterness laced his words. “Every relationship I’ve ever had seems to end up destroyed. My father, my mother, and especially you.”

“Is that how you see it?” She turned around, braced against the counter, so now they faced each other. Gone was any trace of tears. A beam of determination burned bright in the glare she drilled him with. “Damn you, Devon Marshall, for putting people into neat, little categories: rich, poor, realists, dreamers. Your mother dreamed of a better life—”

“A fairy tale life, you mean,” he said between gritted teeth.

“In loving your dad, she reached for the stars and in your eyes fell short. She even made you believe in the happily ever after, didn’t she? The poor Cinderella marrying the handsome Prince Charming. Just like I did to you, only in reverse? And when they didn't come true, you blamed us and wanted nothing to do with us ever again.”