Chapter Nine
Dumb ass.Devon rolled on the mattress and took her with him. He was Devon ‘The Devil’ Wilder. That had been what the press had called him after Regina’s interview. Women flocked to him, and he knew why. It wasn’t just his body and swagger. He knew how to drive them mad, and how to keep fucking them over and over.
He ran a hand down his face. Then why had he acted like a hormonal teenager on his first date? And why did he come after two freaking seconds? He slanted her a look.
Elena stared at the ceiling, a smile of pure wonder spreading across her striking face. Thankfully, she had enjoyed herself—judging by her orgasm, even more than that. And she had been the reason he released himself far too quickly. She had been a mix of vulnerability and strength. The determination in her big brown eyes, and the soft moans spilling from her mouth…
His groin stirred. Good. This had to be about sex. Period. Because caring for Elena could not happen. Not when he was still not 100 percent sure about her. She’d told the truth about her abusive marriage—he’d seen the evidence of it in her eyes, and in her demeanor. But did that give her a free pass from spying on him for his half brother?
A ping from a cell phone pulled him from his thoughts.
“Sorry.” She shifted on the bed, checked the phone, then turned it face down on the nightstand. “My family is driving me crazy. My brother’s engagement party is in three days.”
“That’s right.” He glanced at her. And he’d made the freaking mistake of offering to go to it with Elena as her date. She could have just asked her spy buddy—his half brother Matthew—to go with her. Just because she hadn’t slept with anyone for a long time, what evidence did he have she didn’t want Matthew? Maybe she was using Devon to get back into the groove so she wouldn’t be afraid of having sex with Matthew.
That would be the ultimate betrayal. Even worse than what Regina had done.
Regina had used their relationship to explore a side of her she had always wanted to. As a result, she had enjoyed it—far too much, and ended up landing a controversial interview and opening a swingers’ club.
“Yeah. I haven’t been home in a while. I guess it will be okay.”
“I was serious earlier when I said I’d come with you,” he said, the words flowing faster from his mouth than the thoughts in his brain.
She sat up on the bed, and took the sheet with her. Crossing the arms over her chest, she shook her head as if she hadn’t heard him right. “Really?”
He cleared his throat. “I will be your date.”
“Wow. I didn’t think—”
“A weekend in New York City. There’s nothing more to it,” he said, since establishing relationship rules were as vital to him as flying was to a bird.
She twirled a strand of her hair with her finger, eyes seemingly miles away. “That’s nice. Well, I don’t know. I have to think about it. My brothers can be a pain, and I don’t know if you deserve to go through their stupid selection process.”
Her brothers? He chuckled. The woman obviously didn’t know him, if she thought any other male would intimidate him. He had been raised in the Southside of Chicago, with a whore for a mother. He had learned at the age of two to pour his own cereal for breakfast. “I’m not scared of anyone. Your brothers can’t intimidate me. And they shouldn’t intimidate you.”
She gave him a small smile. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for offering, though.”
I will go with her.The resolution solidified. What was she hiding from him? What if Matthew would fly into New York to meet her there? He popped his knuckles. Damn it. The woman was already a liability. Worrying about what kind of relationship she had with his half-brother was a painful distraction from the cyber theft.
“Let’s eat.” She cocked her head to the side, and jumped from the bed.
Far too fast for his taste, she put on her clothes, then quickly exited the room. Eating at her place after sex sounded a tad too domestic for his taste. Sure, maybe ordering in, or grabbing a bite to eat out, or something. But she had cooked that pan of lasagna…
Sighing, he got out of bed and slapped on his jeans, not worrying about his underwear or putting on a shirt. If he wanted to go with her to New York and get to the bottom of things, he would have to endure some intimacy.
Although…the second his gaze landed on her, his heart tightened so much, it was like there was a Steinway piano crushing his chest. She placed a basket of garlic bread in the middle of the table. Everything about her apartment was far too feminine, and the pale pink linens added to the all-woman ambiance. He noticed the old-fashioned yet quality crystal goblets half-filled with icy water, and the curvy silverware around the neat dishes completed the perfect, white-picket fence picture.
She smiled as if she had a secret, and he wondered if he was part of it. Which was damaging enough.
Wondering had only brought him pain. Wondering if his mother would ever change. Wondering if his father AKA the Sperm Donor would ever step up to the plate. Wondering—
A glow flickered in her eyes. “There you are. Sit.”
Frowning, he pulled the chair and plopped down. The gentleman in him should have waited until she was done and pulled her chair out for her. But she kept dashing in and out of the kitchen, each time returning with something new. The lasagna. Olive oil. Extra Parmesan cheese.
He tapped his fingers on the table. Regina always preferred ordering meals from a known Denver chef. They were delivered to their home, and the amount of calories was displayed on the lid of each small package in cursive writing. Oh, how he hated that damn font.
Elena grabbed his plate and ladled a generous amount of lasagna on it, steam swirling around the pasta as she returned it to him. “Eat. Or like my mom says, mangia.”
