Read Texas Heroes: Volume 1 Online
Authors: Jean Brashear
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Anthologies & Literary Collections, #General, #Short Stories, #Anthologies, #Western, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Genre Fiction, #Westerns, #Romance, #Texas
“Who said that?”
“A woman who obviously hopes she’s wrong. I think she’s got her eye on your doctor.”
“He’s not my doctor,” she snapped. “My parents—”
“Your parents like him, right? Daddy approves? Doctor Blondie is just about good enough for his princess?” Dev shrugged elaborately, clamping down on the burn in his gut. “It’s a perfect fit. Society princess marries rich doctor. They have two point two children and live happily ever after in River Oaks.” It was cruel but it was true, and it enraged him. “That’s what you were raised to be, Lacey. So what’s your beef?”
Memories rose unbidden, and abruptly he was eighteen again, back in a moon-silvered gazebo being told he wasn’t good enough to touch the princess. The princess who’d turned away when he’d laid his heart at her feet.
“Go to hell, Devlin.” Her voice shook, but her eyes spit fire.
He gripped her by the arms and hauled her against his body. “I’ve been there,” he muttered. Then he covered her mouth with his.
And for an instant, that twice-damned mouth yielded to his hunger. For just a breath, he felt her respond as if all the years between had meant nothing. He’d expected resistance, anticipated ice.
Instead he got fire, and it scorched through his blood.
Gut-deep desire vaporized thought. His body responded so fast, his head spun. Caught between the past and the present, his only thought was to get closer—
She jerked her mouth away, and slapped him. Hard. Then she leapt to her feet.
“Don’t you ever touch me again.” Her voice was thready. Slivers of ice rose in her devastated gaze.
Dev jumped to his feet to grab her back, to—
To what? What the hell was he doing?
Lacey bent and retrieved her purse, then shot him a glare that should have sliced him to the bone. “I’ll—” Her voice shook, just slightly, then he watched as her mother’s training took control.
In a voice that could have frozen a blast furnace, she spoke. “I’ll call a cab. I think you got your money’s worth, and if you didn’t, I don’t care.” She turned to walk away.
“Lacey, wait—” When she didn’t, he raked a hand through his hair and clasped the back of his neck, afraid to touch her again. “I’ll drive you home.”
She kept walking, so he took off after her.
“If you touch me again, I’ll call the police.”
He could see she meant it. He wanted to blast her with angry words, wanted to have it all out right here. Right now.
But then he looked at her again and saw the one thing he couldn’t fight.
She was shaking. She was afraid of him, no matter what she said.
And that hit him where it hurt.
“Look, I’m sorry. I had no right to do that.”
But she was already hitting speed dial on her cell. “I’d like a cab right away. Hermann Park near the Museum of Fine Arts.” She listened for a moment. “Five minutes will be fine.” She punched it off.
“Lacey, I said I’m sorry.”
She stared straight ahead. “It doesn’t matter.”
Looking at her utterly blank expression, he could almost believe that was true.
“Call the cab off. I’ll drive you home. I won’t touch you.”
He saw her slender shoulders sag before she squared them again. “I don’t need the basket anymore. Enjoy your lunch, Dev. I hope it was everything you wanted.”
The nerves in her eyes stopped him cold.
Good God. If he had set out to screw everything up, he couldn’t have done any better.
He had to think what to do, had to readjust his plan. Had to—
“There’s a cab. Goodbye, Dev.” With the grace that was her trademark, she walked away across the grass without ever looking back.
Dev watched her go, feeling edgy and ragged with the debris of desire. Knowing he was the lowest form of scum. He’d started out to prove that he’d become civilized over the years. He thought he had. Would have sworn it.
Apparently not. Something about Lacey still spoke to him at a level far deeper than any acquired polish.
Score two points for the bad boy who’d just revealed his true colors.
Back to square one.
L
acey stepped inside her front door and slipped off her shoes, padding across the entry in stocking feet as she flipped through her mail. It was Friday afternoon, and she’d been wrangling with bureaucrats all day over Christina. She was hardly in the mood to attend her parents’ cocktail party tonight, but not going was out of the question.
She dropped the entire stack of mail on the entry table, not caring what was in it. Maybe if she’d had a decent night’s sleep all week, things would be different.
But she hadn’t. Every time she closed her eyes, Dev was there, lying in wait. She could stay busy during her waking hours, busy enough to shove him away, to forget the fiasco of that picnic.
Of that kiss.
But at night…alone in the darkness, he leapt every barrier. Night had been their time. Under cover of darkness, Dev had shown her a world light-years away from her own. He’d shown her passion…and freedom…and made her question, tempted her to follow him away from the safe life she’d known.
Then he’d abandoned her. Never bothered to see if she was all right after the night she’d flown high in his arms—
And then crashed to earth.
So why, the one time she was back in those strong arms, had she yielded, even for one second? Why had he felt so treacherously right?
Lacey eyed the deep cushions of her sofa. She glanced in the mirror and didn’t like what she saw. Maybe a quick nap would help smooth out the rough edges. Her mother had eyes like heat-seeking missiles. Lacey needed to be sharp and on her toes.
She crossed the room and sank into the sofa’s embrace.
It’s daylight, Dev. You have to leave me alone
.
In seconds, she slid under, tired to the bone.
It seemed like only seconds later when she struggled to the surface, frowning as she tried to shake the cobwebs and figure out what had pulled her back.
The door. Someone was knocking.
Lacey closed her eyes.
Go away
.
But whoever it was didn’t give up. Staggering slightly, she made it from the sofa to the door, glancing through the glass and going stiff with shock.
No
.
Lacey shook her head and squeezed her eyes. She was still dreaming, surely.
But she opened them again, and there he was.
Lacey drew a deep breath and pressed one hand to her stomach as she struggled for the mask she needed. She opened the door.
“Hello, Dev.” She tried to put in her tone all the detachment she wanted to feel.
From behind his back, he pulled out her basket, his tone light but his green eyes giving more away. “I brought back your basket.”
“I told you I didn’t need it.”
Go away. Please
. He was devastating in a black T-shirt and black slacks. The T-shirt clung to a very well-developed chest she could still feel against her body.
“I know.” With his free hand, he brushed at the errant lock that had always plagued him, his fingers raking through his raven hair. “I probably should have just shipped it back to you, but—” Emerald eyes pinned hers. “I owe you an apology. I needed to deliver it in person.”
Lacey’s hand went slack on the door handle. She felt like ten miles of bad road and probably looked worse. She needed all her defenses to handle Dev, and sleep still fogged her brain. “I—Dev, it’s been a long week. I don’t—”
“Please, Lacey.” On his too-interesting face, she read real regret. “Let me talk to you for just a minute.”
She glanced down at her wrinkled linen suit, her unshod feet. “Can you give me a minute? I—I’m afraid I fell asleep. I must look dreadful.” She stepped away from the door and gestured him inside.
His piercing eyes studied her. His voice was slightly husky as he spoke. “You look beautiful, as always.” Then his gaze softened, his voice dropping low. “Are you all right?”
She realized she had one hand pressed against her abdomen and instantly yanked it away. “I’m perfectly fine. Just let me—” Turning, she cast over her shoulder, “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
In her bedroom, she shed her suit jacket, then headed for the bathroom and carefully splashed cold water on her face. Patting it dry, she stared at herself in the mirror, taking in the dark shadows beneath her eyes. She applied new lipstick and spritzed on perfume, then cursed herself for caring how she looked.
Good grooming is a woman’s best armor, darling
. Margaret DeMille would sooner be drawn and quartered than appear before the eyes of another human without impeccable makeup and perfectly-coifed hair.
The way Lacey looked, Dev would be out there for hours if she were to meet her mother’s goal. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, she headed back to the living room, detouring by the entry table to slip on her heels.
Reaching for composure, she drew in a deep breath, then headed for Dev. “Would you care for something to drink?” She stopped with the coffee table securely between them.
“No, I—” He stopped abruptly, then exhaled. “All right. Sure.”
He was nervous, Lacey marveled.
Dev
. Seeing it steadied her. “Iced tea, or something stronger?” Wondering at herself for the urge, she gave in and teased. “I might be able to find a good Chardonnay.”
He’d been glancing around the room, but his head whipped toward her, his look intense. When he saw the curve of her lips, for a fleeting instant his lips answered, his smile wry. “I’d better stay away from Chardonnay. Seems to make me do stupid things.” His chest rose. “Lacey, I—”
She wasn’t ready. “Iced tea it is, then.” She headed for the kitchen, willing strength into legs that had gone weak with the force of that crooked smile.
But he followed her. As she put ice in glasses, he stood in the center of her kitchen looking too good. Hands thrust in his pockets, he scanned the room. “Can I help?”
She shook her head and concentrated on the glasses.
“Nice place you have. Good decorator.”
She arched one eyebrow and turned before she poured. “I did it myself.”
The crooked grin became a rueful smile. “I just keep putting my foot in it, don’t I?”
She poured carefully, then replaced the pitcher in the refrigerator. Grasping both glasses, she turned. “You can’t help being a snob, I suppose.” She handed him a glass.
Dev took it but frowned. “Snob? Me?”
“You assume you know me, assume I’m simply part of a group who behave in a predictable way. But you don’t know me, Dev.” She met his gaze evenly, her stomach burning from her daring.
He looked into his glass. “I’m finding that out.” He fixed his eyes on her again. “Listen, Lacey, about the park…”
“Forget it, Dev. It’s over.”
Green eyes darkened. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Suddenly, her sunny kitchen crowded with memories, shadowed by the past. “Please, Dev. Don’t.”
I can’t talk about any of it. I can’t bear it
.
“But—” He frowned and studied her closely.
She waited for an eternity, praying he wouldn’t continue. She didn’t know how to be around him, how to forget, how to proceed. How to cover the maelstrom he generated inside her.
Dev exhaled sharply, then nodded. “All right. But I am sorry. I’d like to make it up to you. If that’s possible. You don’t know it, but that wasn’t like me. I don’t—” He caught her look. “All right, I’ll stop. But I would like to show you that I know how to behave. Let me take you to dinner.”
“I’m sorry. I have plans. My parents are having a party tonight.” And thank God for that. How would she make it through an entire evening with him?
“A raincheck, then?”
This was Dev, but it wasn’t. This man was far more serious, much less reckless. Time had wrought changes in them both. He’d had pride, even when he had nothing else. Could she trade his pride for her comfort and still think well of herself?
She was her mother’s daughter. She’d weathered many difficult occasions with a smile firmly in place. Dev would be her biggest challenge, but a part of her wanted to try.
“All right. But you live in Dallas, right?”
That killer smile returned. “It’s only three hours, and I’m in and out of Houston on business all the time.”