The Devil She Knows (15 page)

But she couldn’t find the words.

Dev was attentive and funny. They sat across from each other with plates of pasta that almost melted in their mouths and talked—something they hadn’t bothered to do up to that point. The buzz of awareness still ran between them, but somehow it had mellowed...wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been that first night at the masquerade.

Willow relaxed, enjoying herself, which possibly wasn’t a good thing. Dev had taken her out on a date. The kind she hadn’t been on in a very long time. And he’d stripped away the facade she’d managed to put back in place just last night.

Without any effort he’d taken this—whatever this was—from just sex and made it something more. He’d made her want these kinds of nights with him, where they talked and shared. Connected on more than just a physical level.

This was so not good.

Willow was quiet as they drove back into Sweetheart. It was late and she rested her head against the seat, staring out the window, letting the scenery lull her as it flashed past.

She’d teased him about his truck that first night, but it was clear that it had plenty of get-up-and-go. It probably could have competed with the Jag he’d said he owned.

Normally she wasn’t a speed kind of girl, but with Dev beside her it felt right. Just a little wicked. Until red-and-blue lights flashed in the darkness behind them.

Dev didn’t even bother swearing, just eased up on the gas and pulled to the side of the empty road.

Willow leaned forward and watched as Sheriff Grant got out of the cruiser and walked toward them. She groaned and let her head drop back to the seat, twisting so that she could throw a “you’ve got to be kidding me” glance at Dev.

He simply shrugged, gave her a sheepish grin and rolled down his window to wait.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing driving that fast down these roads, Warwick?”

“Don’t give me that, Grant. We both know one of the things you love about being sheriff is you get to legally push that car to its limits.”

Grant glared through the open window at Dev for several seconds before his body relaxed. “True. What are y’all doing out this late?”

“Went to Charleston for dinner. I’m taking Willow back to my grandparent’s place now.”

For the most part Willow had only been half-paying attention to the conversation. Dev had broken the law and deserved whatever ticket the sheriff wanted to give him. And since he didn’t seem too concerned...

But his last statement had her straightening in her seat.

“What? No, you’re not. You’re taking me home.”

Dev and Grant exchanged a glance, one of those male ones filled with unspoken things that probably would have gotten them both a knee to the groin if they’d said them out loud.

“No, I’m not.”

With a nod, the sheriff slipped away from the window. Dev shifted in his seat, turning his entire body to face her. “It isn’t safe, Willow. I stopped and picked up a few of your things before coming by the store.”

“You did what?” The incredulity nearly choked her. “How did you get inside my house?”

“I used the spare key you left in the hollow rock in your front flower bed. Really, Willow, that thing practically screams ‘key inside.’”

She growled deep in her throat. “You went through my things. Packed a bag.”

“I’ve seen you naked, Willow. Repeatedly. It seems rather silly for you to get all indignant that I rifled through your panty drawer.”

That hadn’t even occurred to her. But now that he’d said it... Her skin flamed with delayed embarrassment.

“While we’re on the subject, can I just say that I wholeheartedly approved of your obsession with sexy underwear? Knowing just what you might have on under all those prim and proper clothes you prefer will drive me insane from now on.”

Willow sucked a hard breath through her teeth. She didn’t want to react, but her body didn’t seem to care that he was being a complete Neanderthal. It just wanted him to follow through on the threat and touch her. Now. In his truck. Along the side of the road. Where anyone could drive by and see.

God, what was this man doing to her?

He was making her break every single rule she’d ever given herself. He was calling out the wanton she’d pushed deep down inside and pretended didn’t exist.

Glancing behind them out of the corner of her eye, Willow realized that the cruiser was gone. Apparently Sheriff Grant had decided not to bother with a ticket or a warning.

She had two choices. Stand her ground and make him take her home. Or give in to her libido and let him take her to his place and make her feel...anything, everything.

Her libido won.

* * *

W
ILLOW HAD RELUCTANTLY
agreed to come back to his grandfather’s place. The moment they’d walked through the door he’d distracted them both...and enjoyed every minute of it.

But now that she was sound asleep in his bed, Dev couldn’t settle. Without the diversion of the physical awareness snapping between them, he couldn’t keep his mind preoccupied. And he was just...worried.

So he’d come downstairs to give his brain something else to think about, not bothering to turn on the lights. The glowing screen from his laptop was the only illumination in the room.

He’d already done preliminary sketches for the landscape design when he’d submitted his bid package, but of course things changed. Those had been based on the information he’d had on hand and before he’d actually seen the site.

The lake offered some benefits and challenges—easy irrigation for whatever he put in, but the potential for flooding if there was heavy snow up north and lots of run-off. He’d taken several soil samples and was waiting on results from the geological tests required for the kind of massive construction project the resort would be. The test results could change everything, but in the meantime, he was mentally adjusting a few things.

The design program he used was open on his laptop. His feet were kicked up on the scarred coffee table and his entire body had sunk down into the overstuffed warmth of his grandmother’s sofa. It hadn’t changed since he was five or six. After she was gone, his grandfather had been reluctant to part with it. The thing was ugly and dated, but it was comfortable and Dev couldn’t find the will to throw it out, either.

He was busy changing a few of the plant schemes, utilizing more of the natural hardwoods that already surrounded the property, when a soft sound pulled his attention.

Willow stood in the doorway. He had no idea how long she’d been there, but she looked pretty comfortable. Wearing only his shirt.

He was seriously going to have to consider destroying every stitch of clothing she owned.

Her hair was mussed, which never happened. Her skin was flushed from sleep and sex, glowing in the scattered light.

Dev simply stared at her, unable to tear his gaze away. She was beautiful. Of course, she was always beautiful, but this way—rumpled and imperfect—he felt as if he was finally getting a glimpse of
her
instead of the mask she wore for everyone else.

On bare feet, she padded across the room and folded onto the sofa beside him. She leaned close, the sweet and heady scent of her surrounding him.

“What are you working on?”

Reaching around her, Dev attempted to shut the cover on his computer. For some reason he didn’t want to show her the work in progress.

He loved his job. It had given him fulfillment when he’d had none. He was good at what he did. It was his place in the world, and for a boy who’d bounced from one bad situation to another without really feeling as if he belonged, that sensation was unexpected and comforting.

He’d never cared what anyone else thought of his career, but Willow’s opinion mattered.

The light pressure of her hand stopped him, the lid on his laptop half up and half down.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’ve invaded my life, toured my workroom like it was a gallery at the Louvre and schemed your way into getting me out of my own house. The least you can do is let me see what you’re doing.”

They’d bared their bodies and watched each other as they both lost the world around them to the pleasure they created together. And somehow this moment felt more intimate.

Possibly because it meant more.

This town—and Willow’s sister—had taken everything from him once. If he opened up any more would he lose everything again? Rose had just pissed him off and highlighted the damage he’d done to his own life.

Willow had the potential to actually devastate him.

And he’d already been there once before.

With Natalie he thought he’d found someone who understood him. She had come from a rough background, just as he had. They’d both recognized the invisible scars, unable to hide them from each other. That recognition had given them a false sense of kinship, neither of them realizing they were trying to use the other to shore up the damage deep inside until it was too late.

More than anything, Natalie had needed financial stability. And Dev hadn’t been able to do that for her. He’d been more concerned with finding happiness, something that centered him and gave him a purpose, than amassing a huge bank account.

There was a part of him that had loved Natalie, even if they’d been absolutely terrible together. He was happy that she’d found someone to give her what she needed.

Why was it harder to let Willow in than it had been to let Natalie go?

Dev’s chest tightened. For the briefest moment he thought about telling her to go back to bed. And then she looked at him, her patient, caring eyes punching him straight through the gut.

And his hand reversed directions, opening the screen and revealing the details that he’d been working on.

The fact that she didn’t immediately look away to the screen settled some of his tension. Her gaze was steady on his for several moments before she peered at the colorful rendering.

She scooted closer, her legs dropping to the floor as she studied his work. Her quick eyes darted around the screen, taking in the intricacies of his design. She didn’t say anything right away, but let it all sink in. Finally, she murmured, “This is fabulous, Dev. I didn’t realize you were an artist.”

“I’m not. The program does most of the work.”

She shook her head at him, raking him with the sharp edge of her gaze. “Not all artists use paper and paint. I should know. You use living things and soil, but the creativity and heart is still clear for anyone who wants to pay attention.”

Dev made a sound that could have been agreement or dissent, whichever she was expecting. Inside, his body warmed, not from desire, but from the glow of her praise. She understood. Few people did.

Without warning, her palm landed heavily against his sternum and pushed. Her attention was no longer trained on the glowing screen of his laptop, but squarely on him. The burn was there, deep in her eyes, and his body responded.

This was the bold angel from the first night. The woman who’d thrown him out of her house in a tightly controlled show of anger. She might pretend that she was perfect and compliant, following the rules everyone around her established, but she was strong and fiery beneath the cool exterior.

When she let go, she was a force to be reckoned with. Dev liked that. He respected it, even if on occasion she let herself be swayed by the opinions of others.

“You keep saying this is your grandfather’s house, but isn’t it yours now? Why haven’t you sold it or moved back or changed the furniture?”

It took his brain a few moments to switch gears, especially with the hot weight of her hand pressing against his chest. He wanted to topple her backward, to pull that shirt up so he could run his hands across her soft thighs. Had she bothered putting on the wisp-of-nothing panties she’d been wearing?

Shaking his head, he tried to pull his mind back from the brink. Somewhere, Dev found the right words to answer her question. “The house is mine. I inherited it when he died, although I can’t imagine he actually wanted me to have it. I was the only choice.”

Willow blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t he want you to have it?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. He was pissed about what I’d done with Rose.”

“What he thought you’d done with Rose,” she corrected.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment that her words meant more than what was on the surface. Not only did she believe him, she was defending him to someone who was no longer there to care about the truth.

“He didn’t believe me any more than the rest of the town.”

“But you did tell him the truth.”

“I tried.”

Slowly, her eyes closed. She kept them that way for a few heartbeats before opening them again. He didn’t like what he saw. Pity. Apology.

“Don’t you dare. You had nothing to do with it.”

“And that makes it better?” Her voice was harsh with the anger she was directing toward herself. Her eyes met his, roiling with a heat that had nothing to do with desire, “Dammit, I want to strangle her for what she did. What she cost you.”

Warmth flashed through his chest. He hadn’t realized how much it meant to have someone believe him.

To have her support him.

“It’s in the past.”

“No, it isn’t, Dev. I spent ten years thinking the worst of you. The entire town did. Do you know how many people have warned me against you since you came back?”

He made a rude noise in the back of his throat. “I’m guessing pretty much everyone you’ve talked to.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“How can you be so flippant about everything? Her selfishness cost you so much. You didn’t even return for your grandfather’s funeral.”

Willow’s skin had gone pink and her eyes glittered with fury and exasperation...on his behalf. She was ready to fight for him. Had already been doing it, if he was reading between the lines correctly.

It had been a long time since anyone had thought him worth fighting for.

God, he wanted her. In that moment, the only thing he could think about was getting his hands on her. The soft, welcoming heat of her body surrounding him.

And there was no reason to deny what he wanted.