Texas Heroes: Volume 1 (71 page)

She wanted him again. Now. Dev had unleashed something primal in her. A wanton creature she’d never met.

Lacey stretched her humming, hungry body. She was incredibly proud of herself. She’d been anything but a lady.

Lacey grinned. She’d been an animal last night.

Her mother would be scandalized.

Perfect.

Sunlight warmed her face as she felt the slight ache of muscle, the deep inner heat from greed given, need absorbed.

You slut
. Lacey smiled in delight. She’d never once woken up naked in her entire life. Naked and filled with a crackling energy that demanded attention.

She’d seduce
him
this morning. Take
him
. Show him a new face of the tigress he’d unleashed.

Ready to see if she could scandalize Dev, too, she rolled over to find him, to place her greedy hands on that hard, beautiful body that sent need swimming through her veins.

Her hand brushed sheets disappointingly cool to the touch. She opened her eyes to find the bed empty beside her.

Dev was gone.

A piece of paper was propped on the bedside table, her name scrawled on the outside in a bold hand.

Two rose petals lay in front of it, scarlet reminders of a night seared forever in her memory. She was smiling when she opened the note.

Lacey—

I’m sorry. I want to be there with you right now, but I have to go help my brother. Damn voicemail
.

Her smile widened.

Stay warm. Stay naked. If you can’t stay naked, keep your cellphone on. I’ll find you. Don’t forget where we left off.

Dev

Lacey pressed a kiss to the paper and set it on the table. Picking up the rose petals, she brushed them over her lips, inhaled the last traces of fragrance. Remembered a night that had been a dream. A revelation.

A fantasy they’d been denied for seventeen years.

Thanks to her father.

The morning’s glow faded. How could he have done that? He’d always been very protective of her and yes, finding your daughter writhing naked in the gazebo had to be a shock.

But she’d always been so dutiful until then. Forbidding her would have been enough after that humiliation, much as she hated to admit it. Why lie? Why participate in breaking her heart? It had devastated her, believing that Dev had prized money over her. It had robbed her, stolen deep into her never-strong faith in her judgment. The disaster with Luc had been part and parcel of proving something to herself—and look how that had ended.

But her father had always loved her so fiercely. Surely he wouldn’t have done it if he’d realized what it would take from her. How it would begin the fading of her belief in herself. He loved her. She was his princess.

She had to understand why he had done it. Had to make it clear that he must stay out of this now. Whatever she and Dev could make of this magic, it was theirs. Between them and them alone. Her father might have thought he’d been acting in her best interests.

He’d been wrong. From now on, whatever he thought of Dev, this was her life. Her heart. Her future.

Rising from the bed, she padded toward the bathroom to get ready. Her father never left the house before nine on Saturdays. While Dev was gone, she would make a quick trip over there. Get answers, make her stand clear.

No more interference. It was time he remembered that she was a grown woman.

And time she acted like one.

“This had better be important, Devlin.” Charles DeMille looked as arrogant as ever, spoke to him as before, man to boy. “Is this about Lacey? I thought you must be behind the break-up. You leave her alone.”

But Dev wasn’t a boy anymore. He faced his enemy with the assurance that he’d mastered everything life had thrown at him. Everything this man had started rolling.

To keep the upper hand, Dev remained silent, looking around him. He had never been allowed inside this house, but it looked very much as he would have expected. The library’s rich, dark paneling was almost a cliché, reeking of money and sacrificed forests. The scent of forbidden Cuban cigars hovered in the air.

Finally, he spoke. “Lacey is not the issue right now.”

“You stay away from my daughter. I told you once before, but you never listened, did you, Devlin?”

“Oh, I heard what you said.” Every word came from between clenched teeth. Dev wanted to take this man’s smug superiority and ram it down his throat.
I came from your daughter’s bed
, he wanted to say, just to wipe that smugness off DeMille’s face—but he didn’t. It wasn’t fair to Lacey.

“I haven’t forgotten anything you’ve said—or done.” Dev cocked an eyebrow and let silence spin out for a moment longer. Few people could stand silence; most would rush to fill it.

“Do you know what time it is?” DeMille demanded.

Dev nodded, still not speaking.

“Why are you here, Marlowe?”

Dev waited another long, pregnant pause. “Does the name Allied Drilling ring a bell?”

DeMille’s color paled slightly, but he hadn’t gotten his riches from being a pushover. He recovered quickly. “Doesn’t ring a bell. What’s this about?”

“Does the word
fraud
help your memory?”

Charles DeMille’s body went rigid. “What are you trying to imply?”

“My father kept working papers. I’m going to take you down, DeMille. I’m going to disgrace you like you disgraced my father.” Dev wanted to wade in with his fists. With immense effort, he kept his fingers loose, his hands at his sides. “You sanctimonious bastard. You set up my father to take the fall, then you rode to the rescue like some knight in shining armor. Had my mother singing your praises when all along, it was you who robbed us of everything.”

He walked closer, testing himself. How close could he get and not smash a fist in the guy’s face? “You played the savior and all the while you knew—” Dev had to swallow back the rage that was darkening his vision.

DeMille wasn’t giving in. “Your father made the entries in his own hand. You can’t prove otherwise.” He smiled. “You can’t afford to fight me, Devlin. I hire lawyers by the gross.”

“It will surprise you to know that I’ve done quite well for myself. I’m willing to spend every dime taking you down.”

DeMille’s lip curled. “You can’t win. My name means something in this town. Yours is tainted.”

“I don’t have to go to court to change that. I can ruin you without ever entering the courthouse.”

“You’re using Lacey to get to me, aren’t you?” DeMille asked. “This is all about me. You never got over getting caught with your pants down, being taken down to size in front of her.”

“Leave Lacey out of this.”

DeMille’s eyes sharpened. “You silly pup. She’s still too good for you. She always will be. Don’t go thinking you can have her now. You’re still a mongrel, however well that mongrel is dressed.”

“I know about Lacey.”

DeMille frowned faintly. “Know what?”

“Does the name Jenny Wallace ring a bell?”

DeMille’s eyes widened. In them, Dev saw his revenge. Fear sparked there. Arrogance faltered.

“You can’t prove a thing,” DeMille bluffed.

“I can, and when she knows, it will be over. She’ll never forgive you. You’ve lied to her all her life. You had the nerve to tell me that I wasn’t good enough for your precious, blue-blooded daughter—and she isn’t even your blood. You told me I was nothing—when it was you who made me that way. You who created the whole nightmare and then framed my father.”

“I won’t let you use Lacey to get to me. You can’t prove anything.”

“Are you going to tell her, or shall I, DeMille? She already knows that you—”

Voices outside the door broke into his consciousness. The voices of women—

Lacey’s voice.

“What are you doing here at this hour, darling?” Her mother stood on the stairs in an immaculate satin robe.

“I need to talk to Daddy. Where is he?”

She looked at the elegant foyer, at her mother standing so straight and dignified on the staircase. She remembered a thousand hours of her childhood, the pride in her father’s voice, the hours she and her mother had spent together.

Surely there was an explanation.

“He’s in the library. Darling, is something wrong?”

Lacey shook her head. “I need to speak to Daddy first.”

Her mother frowned but continued her descent. “All right. But I don’t know what could be so important at this unearthly hour.”

Lacey followed her mother down the hallway. They both stopped for a moment at the sound of a very angry voice.

Dev’s voice. She hadn’t noticed his car outside.

“I won’t let you use Lacey to get to me. You can’t prove anything.” Her father’s voice was almost a shout.

“Are you going to tell her, or shall I, DeMille? She already knows that you—”

She glanced at her mother just as the door opened. Her father stood inside, looking years older.

Dev stood behind him, a stranger to her. His face was all hard, brutal angles. And shadows.

“What are you doing here, Lacey?” Dev’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Go on back home,” he said gently.

But she didn’t like what she felt in the air. What she’d heard. Lacey glanced between the two men. “What’s going on?”

She looked at Dev. “Is he going to tell me what?”

“Come sit down, Princess.” Her father settled her in one of the big leather wing chairs and hovered beside her. He looked anxious. Unsettled.

“I don’t want to sit.” She got back to her feet.

“What’s this about, Charles?” her mother asked.

“It’s about the past, Mrs. DeMille,” Dev responded.

Her mother’s look at Dev was pure disdain. “Charles?”

“Lacey, has he harmed you?” Her father neared her side.

She surprised even herself by backing away from her father one step.

Hurt darkened his eyes. “Why have you come, Princess?”

“I’d like to speak to my parents alone, please, Dev.”

Dev didn’t move. Instead, he looked at her father as if expecting something.

Her father gave Dev a glance that almost seemed…guilty? “What did you want to discuss?” he asked.

Lacey looked around her at the familiar surroundings, at her mother’s blonde perfection, the refuge of her father’s broad-shouldered frame.

The air vibrated with anger. With secrets.

“Someone explain to me what’s happening here.” She wrapped her hands around her middle.

Dev swore darkly and stepped toward her, his hands extended as if to hold her.

“Dev? What does he mean? Why would you want to—”
Use me?
She couldn’t say it. “After last night, I thought we—”

Her father exploded. Whirled on Dev. “You were with her last night? Is there nothing you won’t do for revenge?”

Dev’s eyes shot sparks. He glanced at Lacey, then back at her father. Guilt rode hard on his face.

He turned toward her. “Lacey, don’t let him lie to you again. Remember what he did before. Last night has nothing to do with this.”

She wanted to run, wanted to hide from the foreboding sinking into her bones. Wanted to vanish right now, this instant. She held on desperately to the fraying edges of her strength. “What doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”

His green eyes darkened. His hands dropped to his sides. He turned to her father. “Do you tell her, or do I?”

“Tell me what, Daddy?” Her heart was thumping so fast she felt dizzy. “Mother?”

Her mother looked utterly confused. Her father said nothing.

Dev crossed the floor then, came to her side. Grasped her arms and lowered her to the chair. His eyes looked so sad.

Whatever it was, she already knew she didn’t want to hear it. Something deep and visceral told her she would never be the same once she did.

“No.” She tried to rise, shaking her head. “No, don’t. I don’t want to know, whatever it is.”

Dev looked so torn, so weary. “This doesn’t have to be bad, Lacey. There’s good news for you.”

It didn’t feel good. Her father looked a hundred years old.

Dev reached for her hands, clasped them tightly. His jaw tightened, and sorrow washed over his face. The green eyes she loved—

Dear God. She was such a fool. He didn’t love her. He’d seen her heart tumble and he was—