Against the Law (30 page)

A
nother day passed. Dev sat in front of his computer, staring at the front page of his Facebook account. A dozen women's photos appeared on the screen. All of them were smiling, silently willing him to call.

He hated Facebook.

Ignoring the foul taste in his mouth, Dev clicked his mouse and closed the screen. It wasn't even noon and he felt like having a drink. He was just getting up from his chair when he heard Town's light knock and the door to his office swung open.

“You've got a visitor,” the huge black man said. “An old friend of yours.” And he didn't look happy about it.

“Yeah, which one?”

“Amy Matlock. Shall I send her in?”

His stomach sharply contracted. His first instinct was to close the door. But this was Amy. He had loved her once. Though it had been nearly three years ago.

What the hell could she possibly want?

“Send her in.”

Blonde, petite and beautiful, her figure still trim, her bosom nicely full and her clothes still expensive, she slipped quietly into the office, and Town closed the door.

Dev got up from his chair and walked toward her, but stayed a careful distance away.

“Devlin,” she said. “It's so good to see you.” The way she was smiling at him reminded him of a snake toying with its prey.

“Hello, Amy.”

“I bet you're surprised to see me.”

Surprised?
Stunned would be a better word. “You could say that.”

“It's been almost three years. I've thought about you so many times.”

“Did you?”

“Of course, I did. We were terribly in love. I didn't just forget, you know. Didn't you ever think of me?”

“I thought of you and your husband. You were married, Amy, to some other guy.”

She moved closer, rested a hand on his chest. “But it was you I loved, Dev. That's what I figured out. I was a fool to marry Jonathan. I suppose I was just so frightened.

“Frightened? Of me?”

“I was frightened of the powerful emotions I felt for you.”

His jaw tightened. “So you married another man because you loved me so much.”

“Exactly. Only at the time I didn't realize it.”

He couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Amy moved a little closer, her hand running up and down the front of his shirt. “It's over, Dev. My marriage to Jonathan. I've filed for divorce.” Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “I couldn't stop loving you, Dev. I loved you every minute I was with him.”

He took a step backward, letting her hand fall away. “That's pretty tough on a marriage, loving a guy who isn't your husband.”

She sniffed, knuckled away a tear. “I explained things to my father. He understood, Dev. He told me to come and talk to you, tell you everything.” She closed the distance between them, slid her arms up around his neck. “Tell you the way I feel.”

He looked into her pretty face, the long, shiny blond hair, the big blue eyes. The only thought he could form was,
what in the world was I thinking?
This wasn't a woman to love. This was a conniving little baggage who cared only about herself.

He reached up and caught her wrists as she went up on her toes to kiss him, eased her back down and moved away.

“You never loved me, Amy. You don't love me now. You haven't got the slightest idea what love really is.”

“You don't know what you're saying.”

“I'm saying that you only want what makes you happy at the moment. Mostly, you want whatever you can't have.”

She started crying, opened the small Chanel bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a Kleenex. “How can
you say something like that? We loved each other. You cried the day I broke our engagement.”

“Yeah, I did. Jesus, I must have been nuts.”

She stiffened. Her chin firmed and her eyebrows pulled down, her delicate features turning hard. “You love me. You'll always love me.”

“You're wrong, Amy. I never loved you. I was just sucked into thinking I did. Whatever I thought I felt ended a long time ago.” He walked over and opened the door. “Go back to Jonathan, or whatever fool you can convince to buy into your bullshit. Goodbye, Amy. Have a good life.”

Her lips thinned. “You'll be sorry. One day you'll realize the mistake you made and come crawling back to me.” Whirling toward the door, she jerked it open and stormed out of the office, viciously slamming the door behind her.

For long seconds, Dev just stood there, trying to grasp what had just happened. Then he started smiling. He'd been a fool to fall for a cardboard caricature of a woman like Amy. But now he knew the difference, knew what a real woman was.

“Town!” Shouting for his friend, he pounded down the hall. “Call Desert Air and get me a ride. I'm going back to L.A.”

“Yes, sir!” Town was grinning as Dev strode past and walked into his bedroom to pack a few things.

He wasn't about to call Lark on the telephone and ask her to bring Chrissy to come with him to Wyoming. He was going to ask her in person. And if his brothers'
sources
were right and she had missed him half
as much as he had missed her, he might ask her a lot more than that.

He put slacks and shirts into a hanging bag and added a pair of black alligator loafers.

“Plane will be ready to leave in half an hour,” Town called through the open bedroom door.

“Great.” He grabbed his always-packed overnight bag, gave it a quick check to be sure he had what he needed.

“If there's a chance you'll be going on to Wyoming, you might want to take a heavy jacket and some boots.”

He hadn't thought of going directly from L.A., but now that Town mentioned it, it sounded like a good idea. “I've got plenty of stuff at the ranch.”

Assuming Lark agreed to go with him.

His chest suddenly tightened. For two weeks he'd felt dog's-belly low. But if his brothers were wrong and Lark turned him down, he was going to feel a whole lot worse.

“She'll go,” Town said softly, reading his mind like he always did. “She loves you.”

Dev zipped the bag. “Yeah, right. How would you know?”

“Aida said so.”

Dev rolled his eyes. His housekeeper. Jesus. Everybody was an expert. “Take care of things while I'm gone.”

“Always do.”

Dev grabbed the bags and started for the door. “For
once—I hope all you people who know more about my love life than I do are right.”

Town flashed him a brilliant white grin.

 

Dev felt good. He hadn't felt this good in…well, he couldn't remember when. Sometime before he'd shut the door to Lark's condo and walked away.

As he crossed the Burbank airport parking lot and opened the door of the yellow Camaro he had rented, he was smiling. If they were right—if his brothers and his friends were right—by the end of the day, he was going to be one happy man.

He loaded his bags in the trunk of the Camaro, slammed the lid, and rounded the car to the driver's side. He had thought about calling Lark before he'd left Scottsdale, just to make sure she was home. Just to make sure she wanted to see him.

Just to make sure she wasn't out with Steve Rutgers.

But it all came down to one thing.

If she wanted him—if she loved him—she'd want to hear what he had to say, and he wanted to say it in person.

He opened the door and slid behind the wood grain steering wheel. He was nervous. No doubt about that. His hands were sweaty and at the same time his mouth felt dry.

What if they were wrong?

He jumped when his cell phone started chiming. He fished it out of his pocket, thinking it might be important. Maybe it was Lark.

He checked the caller ID but the number was blocked.
Not Lark, then. He swallowed his disappointment and pressed the phone against his ear. “Raines.”

“Señor Raines. This is Ricardo de La Guerra. I have some news for you.”

His pulse kicked into gear. “Señor de La Guerra. I assumed our business was finished.”

“Unfortunately, there remains a certain problem.”

His fingers tightened around the phone. “What problem is that?”

“After Alvarez's plane left Hermosillo, it made an unscheduled stop in Los Mochis, a fact we only just learned. During that stop, Jorge Santos got off the plane. Some sort of personal business. We are not sure. We only know he was not onboard when the plane took off for Cabo San Lucas.”

His stomach sank. “Santos is still alive?”

“
Sí,
but not for long, I assure you. I can only apologize for the…inconvenience.”

“Do you know where to find him?”

“Not yet. But with Zepeda in control of the cartel, he has lost everything. Santos is more dangerous now than ever before.”

And his problems had all begun when Alvarez's men had failed to kill one little four-year-old girl. “Thank you, Don Ricardo, for letting me know.”

“The problem will be handled. This I promise. But word has come that since you are the one who led the raid on the compound, you are to blame for everything that has happened. You and your woman. Santos is a man who lives for revenge. Until he is dealt with, you
must be very careful. You must protect yourself and your family.”

“Count on it.”

The don hung up. Dev started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, his jaw hard as he thought of Alvarez's top lieutenant. Once he reached the freeway, he pressed down harder on the gas pedal and began to weave in and out of traffic.

Jesus.
Santos was alive.

Dev remembered reading about him, how many deaths he was responsible for, what a vicious killer he was. And Don Ricardo wouldn't have called if he didn't believe Santos posed a serious threat. He had to talk to Lark, but he wanted to tell her the bad news in person. He wanted to make sure she understood that he would protect her.

One thing was clear. Lark and Chrissy were going with him to Wyoming. He wasn't giving them any other choice.

 

“If there isn't anything else,” Lark said to Carrie Beth, “I'm heading home.” She had changed her life since she had adopted Chrissy. She worked shorter hours so she could spend more time with the child, leaving promptly every day at five o'clock. Unless, of course, there was a problem.

But she was surrounded by competent people who loved their jobs and they didn't seem to mind that her work days were shorter, her life a little fuller than it used to be.

“Don't forget tomorrow we have that meeting with the Nordstrom people,” Carrie Beth reminded her.

“I haven't forgotten.”

“And we need to go over those designs for Neiman Marcus,” Delilah said. They all did their best to keep her busy during the day. Dev Raines had broken her heart, and being her closest friends, they knew it.

She looked down at her big pink-and-chrome wristwatch then up at Scotty. “I'd like to take a look at that new billboard ad, as well. What do you think?”

“Good idea. How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“Great. I'm really excited to see it.” She checked her watch again. “I've got to get going. Chrissy will be waiting for me to get home. I hate to be late.”

“Not a problem,” Scotty said. He must have seen something in her face for he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You need to go somewhere exciting, dear one, do something just for yourself. You need to forget Mr. Playboy Raines. He just isn't worth it.”

“I wish that were true.” But he was worth it. If he weren't completely wonderful, she wouldn't have fallen in love with him.

“Go on now,” Scotty said with a wave of a pale, slender hand. “Go on home to your little girl.”

Lark smiled. Her people got along so well without her she was beginning to think they liked it when she was gone.

She left the studio and was walking briskly along the sidewalk toward home when she remembered that Chrissy wasn't there. Marge had taken her on a play date. Marge's friend, Susan Caswell, had a little girl Chrissy's age and they were becoming close friends. Tonight, Susan was having a sleepover for the two children that
included popcorn and a Scooby-Doo movie. Chrissy had been wildly excited.

Marge had made supper and left it in the fridge, she recalled, but with Chrissy away, Marge was taking the night off to go to a movie with one of her friends.

Lark breathed a sigh, thinking how much she dreaded facing the empty condo. It was amazing how quickly she had come to love the noisy chaos of her small, makeshift family.

And she knew she would start thinking of Dev.

She slowed her pace, hoping to delay the inevitable. There were a couple of nice little boutiques in the area. Maybe buying something new would cheer her up.

With no reason to hurry, she stepped into the Sugar Tree and started meandering through the racks.

 

It was nearly seven o'clock when Lark used her key to unlock the door to her condo and stepped into the entry. She gasped at the sight of a man in the living room, pacing back and forth in front of the sofa.

Then he turned.

“Dev!”

“Lark!” His jaw hardened and his eyes glittered as he strode toward her, a dark look on his face. “Where the hell have you been?”

“What?” For an instant, she couldn't think. Dev was here, standing in her living room as she had imagined a dozen times.

“I've been waiting nearly two hours!” he ranted. “I called your office and they said you'd already left. I tried you on your cell but the call went straight to voice mail.
In another few minutes, I would have called the police. Why the hell didn't you pick up?”

Her shoulders went rigid. This was hardly the way she'd imagined their reunion. “I was shopping—if it's any of your business—which it isn't. As for the phone, the battery is probably low.”

She lifted her chin, angry now herself. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” But of course he had broken in. He had a talent for that.