Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (17 page)

“Other than that, how are you?” he asked.

“Awful. Miserable.” Inside and out, but I didn’t say that part.

Devon flicked a glance at me. “You’ll feel better when we stop,” he said. “Get some food and some rest.”

“How do you keep going?” I asked. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But you have to do what needs to be done. Sometimes there’s not enough time to eat or sleep. You train yourself—and they train you as well—to put the mission first, always.”

“But you didn’t,” I said. “Otherwise you would have left Logan and me to fend for ourselves in St. Louis.”

Devon didn’t reply and I wished, not for the first time, that I could see inside his head.

“What did you mean?” I asked. “Earlier. When you said that you’d choose me, every time?”

“I thought the words were pretty self-explanatory,” he said dryly.

“I know, but why?” I turned to look at him. “I’m nothing more than your fuck buddy, so why would—”

“My what?” he interrupted, turning sharply toward me. “What did you say?”

“Your . . . fuck buddy,” I muttered, my face heating. “It-it’s what Scott said, and pretty much how all my friends see our relationship. Even me.”

“Scott doesn’t know a bloody thing,” Devon snapped, “and neither do your friends. Other than filling your head with a load of nonsense.”

Relief at his obvious irritation eased the ache in my chest.

“What was I supposed to think?” I asked. “The only thing we’ve done until the last few days is have sex.”

“Firstly, I would never use such a derogatory term in relation to you,” he said. “Secondly, you have no idea the risks I took getting to you the few times I could. Any more or longer would have been dangerous for us both. And lastly,” his cool blue gaze met mine, “just because we can’t have more doesn’t mean what we do have isn’t worth something. At least, something more than what the term ‘fuck buddy’ encompasses.”

One of those things stood out the most to me. “What do you mean by it being ‘dangerous for us both’?” He’d put himself at risk just to come see me?

Devon turned back to the road, sliding his sunglasses on as the sun shone brightly above the horizon. “I told you what happened to Kira,” he said. “If anyone sees me with you one too many times or gets an inkling of our relationship, they’ll use it against me in a heartbeat. Clive is a perfect example of that.”

“Anyone?” I asked, wondering if he meant just his enemies, though Vega’s face floated through my mind.

“Anyone.”

“So quit,” I said. “Leave your job. Do something else. There’s got to be other careers out there for you where we could be together.” I held my breath, hoping his answer would be different. He cared for me. He’d nearly come out and said it, plain as could be.

“I won’t quit my job,” he said. “The only way I’ll stop is when they carry me away in a body bag.”

The absolute certainly in his voice made despair well inside me. Hearing Devon tell me how he cared for me—that I was “dear” to him—was wonderful . . . until he followed it up with the fact that he didn’t care
enough
.

I turned away to stare out the window, leaning my head against the cool glass. I closed my eyes and tried not to think.

I woke when the car stopped. Sitting up from where I’d slumped against the door, I saw we were outside a hotel downtown.

“Wake up, darling,” Devon said. “We’re here.”

A valet opened my door and I stepped out, rubbing my eyes and still trying to clear my head from the cloud of sleep. Devon took my elbow and steered me inside. I didn’t say anything until he was telling the front desk the kind of room he wanted.

“I want a separate room,” I interjected. I felt Devon’s gaze on me, but I stared straight ahead at the man typing on his computer behind the desk.

“Two rooms, sir?” he asked Devon.

I looked down at the counter where my hands were tightly clasped.

“Yes, please,” Devon replied. “Connecting, if you have it.”

“Yes, sir.”

They did have it and a few minutes later we were being shown into our connecting rooms. I noticed Devon took one of the two keys to my room, but I didn’t object. He was paying, so he could do what he wanted, but having my own space would help in my resolve to put some distance between us and not sleep with him.

“I’ll order some room service,” he said. “Get some rest and I’ll wake you when it comes.”

I nodded, already toeing off my shoes and crawling underneath the covers of the king-size bed. I heard Devon go through the connecting door to his room, then I was out again.

Devon must’ve thought I needed sleep more than food because he didn’t wake me. I woke on my own when twilight was darkening the sky. The room was in deep shadows and I sighed. I didn’t yet feel rested, but I felt a helluva lot better than I had earlier.

I got up to use the bathroom and splash water on my face, then dug in my suitcase for my toothbrush. When I was finished, I hesitantly approached the connecting door. It was open, but pulled nearly shut. I rapped lightly on the surface and waited. Nothing. I knocked again. Still nothing. Cautiously, in case Devon was sleeping, I eased the door open.

But the room was empty. Not only was it empty, it looked completely undisturbed. The sheets on the bed were pristine and there were no dirty dishes from the room service Devon had supposedly ordered. Not even a pillow was out of place.

It was odd that he wasn’t there, and I paused for a moment, thinking. It made me a bit uneasy that he’d left me alone. Perhaps he’d been called to duty by Vega, I thought with more than a little bitterness. He’d already professed that his devotion to her superseded his feelings for me. So why was I still here? I could leave if I wanted to. I deserved more than what Devon was offering me, it had just taken a while for me to see it.

Was it wrong to love someone to the point of self-destruction? I’d been unable to help myself before—my need for Devon stronger than my sense of self-preservation—but hearing him so unequivocally state the boundaries of his affection left my love for him cold.

Decision made, I went back to my room and dug in my suitcase for a change of clothes. I’d have the hotel take me to a car rental place, and I’d drive back to St. Louis. As for the people supposedly after me . . .

One problem at a time.

I’d slipped on my shoes and was just wheeling my suitcase to the door when I heard the lock click. I froze in place as the door swung open and Devon walked in.

“Sorry, darling,” Devon said. “Meant to be back earlier, but got held up.” He said this as he unknotted his tie and I saw there was a
tear in the sleeve of his jacket. His gaze was sharp as he took in the sight of me standing there fully dressed, suitcase in hand.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

The note of warning in his voice gave me pause, but I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye.

“I’ve decided to leave,” I said.

“I see. And why would you do that?” he asked. “I’ve told you there are people after you. It makes absolutely no sense for you to leave.”

My temper sparked at the thinly veiled insult. “You’ve told me you’ll never quit your job, that basically I’m not enough for you, then you want me to stick around just because some people are supposedly after me?” I shook my head. “Taking care of myself is something I need to work on, and now is as good a time to start as any.”

I pushed past him, but he grabbed my arm.

“You’re a bloody fool if you leave,” he bit out.

“I’d be a bloody fool to stay,” I retorted, jerking out of his grip. In another moment, I was out the door and heading for the elevator.

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. I could do this, and I would. It was my life, and I was going to live it on my terms, even if it meant it would be more dangerous for me.

I stood in front of the elevator, waiting for the car to arrive. I clutched the handle of my suitcase. I felt unbearably sad inside, but good, too. The chains of obsession for Devon were finally loosened, and I hadn’t realized until now just how bound I’d been by them.

I heard a door open and close and I stiffened, seeing Devon approach in my peripheral vision. Staring resolutely ahead at the closed elevator doors, I said nothing. He walked toward me, not stopping until he was close at my side. He was looking at me, and I wondered if he’d try to make me stay through force.

But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke, his voice a low rasp of sound.

“Don’t go. Please.”

“I know you’re worried—”

“That’s not why,” he interrupted me. “Yes, I want to keep you safe. But it’s you. I don’t want to lose you, Ivy. Not like this.”

“Because I’m leaving you for a change?” I asked. No sense sugarcoating it.

“Because I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a very long time. And I should have told you that. Weeks ago. But I didn’t. And I hurt you.”

My throat was thick with emotion at the stark vulnerability in his voice. “Yes, you did,” I said simply.

His hand brushed my hair back from my cheek. “I am sorry, sweet Ivy.”

The elevator doors opened.

“I want you in my life,” he said. “Will you stay? Do you want me, too?”

I couldn’t speak, could only nod. I hadn’t meant to compel him to bare his feelings to me, but I was glad the threat of me walking away had caused him to tell me the truth.

He took my suitcase from me and grasped my hand, leading me back to the room.

“Where were you?” I asked.

“My mission,” he reminded me. “Ran afoul of some characters, so I’ll need to go back later.” He discarded his jacket and I saw a bright-red stain on the pristine white of his shirt where the tear had been.

“You’re hurt,” I said, going to him.

“Just a scratch,” he said, glancing at the wound. “One of the buggers had a knife.” By now he’d finished unbuttoning his shirt and shrugged it off. “Be a darling,” he said. “The bellman will be up shortly. Will you answer for me?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” I said, hastily averting my gaze from his bare and well-muscled chest. My fingers itched to touch him, and
it seemed to me he lingered longer than was necessary before heading into the bathroom.

It took me that long to figure out he was using my room instead of his, but unless I wanted to see him naked in the shower—which I really, really did—I’d just have to wait and deal with it when he came out.

The bellman did knock a few minutes later and when I answered the door, he gave me a garment bag. “These have been cleaned and pressed,” he said, coming inside to hang them in the closet. He set a small leather bag on the bed, too, then waited.

“Oh, oh right,” I said, scrambling for my purse and pulling out a tip for him.

“Thank you, miss.”

He left and I took Devon’s clothes and bag over to his room. I was staying, but I wasn’t sure yet whether I was sleeping with him. He’d put himself out there, true, but so had I, multiple times.

I was sitting on the bed pretending to watch television when Devon emerged from the shower. He had a white towel slung low around his hips as he dried his hair with another. I watched from the corner of my eye as the muscles in his chest and arms flexed with his movements. His arm wasn’t bleeding any longer, though I noticed a few additional bruises on his torso and the knuckles of his right hand.

“I was worried,” I said. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you when I left earlier,” he said, tossing the towel aside. I averted my eyes in case he decided to drop the other towel, too. I only had so much willpower and a naked Devon was too hard to resist.

Devon picked up his discarded jacket and pulled something out of the pocket. “Here,” he said, tossing it toward me. It landed with a soft thump by my knee.

I glanced down. It was a cell phone. “What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a phone.”

I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm. “Obviously. Why do I have one?”

“It’s a burner phone. Untraceable,” he replied. He moved to stand next to me and I tipped my head back to look at him. “It has one number programmed into it, and that’s mine.”

My eyes slipped shut and the barest hint of a smile crossed my lips. “I can call you,” I said softly.