She shoves the books into my arms and grins. “I appreciate it. I’d say we could put it off for another day, but he’s been waiting almost a week. Thank you so much. Oh! I gotta get back.” She clicks her tongue impatiently. “People need me to find books for them.”
Before I can blink, I’m bundled up in a coat with a scarf wound around my neck all the way up to my ears, and I’m standing outside holding a stack of books, my body pointing in the direction of Devlin’s house.
Let’s get this over with.
It’s a short walk to his ridiculously big mansion that’s three stories and topped with a thatched roof like the rest of the homes in Castleview.
The place is so wide that it takes up three lots. It’s also got huge windows which of course don’t have curtains, so that the neighbors can have a front-row seat to whatever debauchery Devlin partakes in with his revolving door of girlfriends.
Not that I care. Why would I care that he dates as many women as he desires while I’m shoved into marrying some guy I may or may not want? Probablywon’twant. Perhaps that’s for the best.
In fact, it is for the best. What has love ever gotten me?
Heartache for starters.
Besides, I don’t have to love someone in order to marry them, and I certainly don’t have to fall for Storm Grayson.
I can thank Devlin Ross for ruining all men for me.
I ring the bell and exhale a slash of bangs from my eyes. A lifetime too soon, the door swings open.
My breath lodges in my throat at the sight of him.
Devlin’s full head of dark golden hair is tousled as if he recently rolled out of bed. He cocks his head and sighs, obviously annoyed that I’m here.Well that makes two of us, buddy.
There’s a dark smudge of soot under his right eye, which makes him look like he just finished partaking in some really manly work that involved chopping wood.
As if he can hear my inner thoughts, Devlin lifts an arm and raises it over his head. His bicep strains against his sweater, threatening to tear the wimpy fabric in half.
He wipes a hand down his face, passing those hazel eyes before caressing his strong cheeks and finishing at his chin, where there’s a cleft (as if to prove he’s all masculine energy).
The air crackles (or is it just me?) as his voice rumbles. “Why, Blair. It’s been a while. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”
Just hearing his voice stops the drool from falling out of my mouth. Devlin Ross is the worst person in the world, and the last man on earth that I would ever be caught dead with.
And to punctuate that point, I shove the books right into his stomach.
2
DEVLIN
5 minutes earlier
I’m screwed.
Irrevocably, completely, totally screwed.
But maybe I’ll be lucky enough to survive the explosion.
“It’s going to blow!”
In front of me hovers a pulsing, basketball-sized, golden mass of magic. It stretches like a balloon about to burst.
“Find cover!”
A pair of white-gloved, disembodied hands that are currently resting on the table jump to the floor and scurry to safety.
“Hang on!”
