Texas Heroes: Volume 1 (64 page)

He’d never taken the time to find out if they could be friends before his revenge had reversed its blade and skewered him. Now, of course, friends were all they could be—at least, until he found the right way to break the news without breaking her heart.

He was more certain than ever that she didn’t know the secret that could explode her whole world. Being a DeMille was something so intertwined with who she was that she never lost sight of it.

But he had to hand it to her. Even when faced with something like Shorty’s place, she hadn’t turned a hair, had been gracious and warm to Shorty himself. She continued to surprise him.

Yet now she seemed to be absorbing the impact of what she’d done. What she’d thrown away. As he stopped the car, the transformation was complete.

And he hated it.

“Well…” Lacey turned to him, extending one elegant hand. “Thank you for breakfast.”

He resisted the urge to growl and ignored her hand. “Sure thing. Anytime you want to go slumming, Princess, just give me a call. I know all the dives.”

Hurt skipped across her features. She turned away quickly, grasping the door handle. “I’d better go inside.”

The more composed she became, the more Dev fumed. He wished he could cancel this damn job, but he didn’t trust anyone else to do it. Dev wanted to turn back the clock, get back the woman who’d made a jailbreak, who’d turned donuts with glee.

He shouldn’t want that. This was business, and damned complicated business at that. He was here to deliver a message, that was all. There was probably no painless way to deliver it, so maybe he should quit trying.

Or maybe he would just let Maddie and Boone show up on her doorstep, after all. Turn this over to them and walk away.

Like hell, he would.

With a hard jerk, he opened his own door and rounded the front bumper of his car to open hers. He extended a hand to her. She hesitated, and he reached in to grasp her hand.

And this time he let his touch linger.

Lacey slid her legs out, the movement lifting the slim black skirt up high on her shapely thighs. Dev stifled a groan and jerked his glance to her face.

“Dev, I…” Nerves jittered in her gaze.

Inside him, something twisted. He took pity on her. “It’s not too late to go back, Lacey. Doctor Blondie would still take you in a heartbeat, I’m sure.”

She studied him silently, her eyes huge and dark. “I don’t want to go back,” she said softly. “I’m just not sure where forward is.”

He closed his eyes in pain. It didn’t seem to matter what he knew was smart. He wanted to protect her, to hold her. To kiss her again.

He almost did it, almost reached out and pulled her into his embrace.

But from somewhere inside the bad boy rose a gentleman who knew that he would only complicate her life more if he did. Charles DeMille would stop at nothing to keep them apart. She still had to get through DeMille’s displeasure at the broken un-engagement. If Forrester had said anything at all to her parents about finding Dev at her townhouse, it was Lacey who would suffer for it.

It was the absolute worst time to want to get closer to her. He needed to back away, get some distance. Tonight had confused the hell out of him.

He would leave her alone for a few days, keep an eye on her from a safe distance just to be sure no one was making life too hard. Let her get past this rough spot, then he’d break the news as kindly as possible. Maybe he’d take her to Morning Star himself. That was it,
finito
. That was all he could afford to think about now, no matter what this night had made him want.

To strengthen his resolve, he reminded himself that Lacey needed a friend now, far more than anything else. She looked as alone as anyone he’d ever seen.

But he couldn’t leave her like this. Before he stopped to think it through, he spoke up. “Go out with me, Lacey.”

Her head jerked around. “What?”

She didn’t have to look so incredulous. But he persisted. “Forrester said you don’t date. But now you can. It doesn’t have to be a
date
date, just friends out for a night on the town. I still owe you that dinner for winning the bet.” He was making this up as he went, part of him staring in stunned silence.

Just shut up
, he told the stunned part, the part clinging to remnants of sense. The part she’d abandoned once before.

“It’ll get you back in the swing of things. Doctor Blondie will tell everyone he dumped you, you know that. Show the world you’re doing fine without him.”

“Dev, I don’t think…”

The past crowded his throat. Remembered rage at a boy’s helplessness and humiliation. “What’s the matter? Afraid Daddy won’t like it?”

Her eyes clicked into defiance. “I don’t care about that.”

You did once. Too much
. Dev could feel temper licking at the edges of his control. “Never mind.” He turned toward her front door.

Lacey grabbed his arm. “You think I’m such a coward, don’t you? How dare you? You don’t know me. You never did.”

The night brought one more discovery. Lacey had a temper.

Her eyes might be spitting fire now, but his weren’t far from igniting, either. “Then prove it. Prove that you’re not going to live the rest of your life trying to become your mother.”

If she’d had a knife, he’d be bleeding right now. “Name the date.” That delicate jaw could crunch rocks at this moment.

“I’ll be back next Friday. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Fine,” she snapped.

He took the keys from her hand and unlocked the door. “Fine, then. I’ll see you on Friday.” He stepped aside.

She steamed past him. Suddenly, almost like a marionette, she stopped. “Thank you for the donuts.”

Damn those perfect manners. Dev gritted his teeth and started to respond.

Lacey slammed the door in his face.

Dev heard the lock click and stood there for a moment, glaring at the closed door. Then the absurdity of it all hit him. Like a madman, he stood on the porch of Lacey’s exclusive townhouse—

And laughed his fool head off.

She was right. He sure as hell didn’t understand her. But she fascinated him more every time she crossed his path.

Chapter Seven

D
ev crossed inside the Loop, headed toward his younger brother Connor’s apartment. He shook his head ruefully. It was only Wednesday, and he’d sworn to leave Lacey alone this week. But every day she’d been in his thoughts, and he’d worried about how she was doing. When one of his investigators had casually mentioned that he needed to interview someone in Houston, Dev had jumped at the chance to go in his place.

He’d been out of his mind to invite her out for Friday, and here he was, two days early. Knowing already that he wouldn’t stay away that long.

She betrayed you, idiot. Turned her back and chose the life she has
. The message had been clear years ago. Marlowes were not good enough for DeMilles.

But the more he saw of Lacey, the more his instincts stirred. The woman he was learning to know had a tender heart. The boy Dev had been wounded to the core that she hadn’t chosen him, but that boy had been proud and too ready to leap at the first offense. He’d expected a lot from a sheltered girl.

His plan to even the score with Charles DeMille by seducing the perfect daughter had backfired in his face.

She’d walked away from him, and he’d wound up on the next bus out of town, determined to come back and take his family away from Houston—and Charles DeMille—forever.

He’d done it, put his siblings through college, bought his mother a house, built a lucrative business. Now that he’d become successful, plenty of women considered him only too suitable. He wondered if they would be around if he’d still been poor.

But none of them had been a woman who wanted to take on three kids and an alcoholic mother. Nor one who understood his drive to climb up from poverty and become so successful that no one would ever again say he wasn’t good enough.

Lacey wouldn’t be any different, would she? She’d cut and run before. He’d made it out of the cesspool, on his own terms. So why the devil was he racing back toward the woman who had been part and parcel of the most painful period of his life?

Dev didn’t have an answer that made any sense. So he simply drove.

“Lacey, darling, are you feeling well?” her mother asked that night at dinner.

It had been a hard week. She’d just found out from Christina’s social worker that an unknown aunt had popped up, wanting custody. The social worker suspected that state aid money was the aunt’s real goal, and Christina’s distress at the news had made Lacey wish she could take the child away and hide her so that no one would ever hurt her again.

On top of that, Lacey hadn’t yet had the chance to discuss Philip with her parents, and she’d been dreading it. Nonetheless, she finished her bite and nodded. “Yes, I’m just fine.”

“Sure nothing’s wrong, Princess?” her father inquired.

“No, I…” She took a deep breath to settle herself. Christina’s plight had made her resolve to do this before they delved into the painful subject of Philip. “I wanted to thank you both.”

Her parents looked startled. “For what?”

“I simply wanted to tell you that I appreciate how lucky I am to have grown up here, to have been born to two people who love me, to—” She was going to cry if she didn’t watch out.

Her mother looked uneasy. Her father set his napkin aside, frowning. “What brought this on?”

Lacey looked away, blinking rapidly. With effort, her voice brightened. “I’m fine, Daddy.”

“It’s that volunteer work, isn’t it?” Her mother’s incisive gaze sharpened. “I told you, Lacey, that world is not where you need to be. There are better places for you to put your efforts.”

Her father nodded agreement. “Princess, I know you want to help those who need it, but isn’t there something easier you could do?”

Remembering the little blonde girl who’d fallen asleep holding her hand, rebellious words rose to Lacey’s lips. Carefully, she drew a deep breath before answering.

“I’m almost thirty-six years old. When am I going to make my life count, if not now?”

“You could make your life count. You could have children by now, Lacey darling, if you would just say yes to Philip,” Margaret chided.

“I don’t love Philip.”

“Bah—” Her father waved it away. “You can grow to love him. That’s romantic folderol. You’re very well-suited. Know the same people, like the same things.”

A sharp retort rose to her lips, but a lifetime’s habits didn’t vanish in an instant. Lacey rubbed one hand across her stomach and took another deep breath. She had come here to thank them for caring for her so well. They were simply trying to do the same thing now.

But though Philip had apparently not told them anything, she couldn’t put this off any longer.

“I’m not going to marry Philip, Daddy. I’ve already told him that.”

“What?” Her parents exchanged sharp glances.

“Lacey, how could you? What more could you want?” her mother asked.

I want more. I want
—

What did she want?

Someone who would love her if she were poor and in rags. The vine-covered cottage, maybe, much as it was maligned.