Chapter Fourteen
Later that day, Devon glanced at a text message glaring on his cell. Elena doesn’t have any strange account activity. No off-shore accounts in her name. He palmed the device for a moment before putting it in his pants, then drank a swig of champagne.
Around him, the engagement party unfolded without a hitch. They had gotten ready at the hotel, and as far as he knew, Elena had asked their family not to talk about her at Emilio and Tiffany’s engagement party.
“More champagne?” the waitress asked, holding a bottle.
“No, thanks.” He sat the flute on her tray, and ran his hand over his head. A strange heat formed in his throat. Damn it. So Elena wasn’t the one messing with the accounts or stealing from his company. Deep down, he realized she’d never steal from the company. And that made him want to trust her. Even more, if she wasn’t using him sexually to get ready to be Matthew’s lover, what did that mean where Devon was concerned with all his commitment issues?
Damn it again. That left him with an amazing, smart, sexy woman who deserved a man who would make her happy. A man who could give her all she wanted.
Could he be that man? Did he even want to give up on his path for continuing success at Wilder & Co.? To decrease the number of nights he spent at the club to help take care of a sick baby at home?
A chilly sensation zapped down his spine. The specter of his father zapped into his mind. If he did all that, would he risk turning out just like his father? And fail Elena by becoming a cheating, lying husband? He kept trying to separate himself from his father’s bad-ass ways, but what if trying wasn’t good enough and blood triumphed over his efforts to be different from the his dear old sperm donor?
“Hey, man.” Elena’s brother walked over to Devon and he caught a glimpse of her other brother Rocco standing next to them. But instead of looking like they wanted to beat the shit out of him, they smiled. “We didn’t get a chance to talk to you.”
Devon shook his head. “No worries.”
Rocco brought his tumbler to his lips while Salvatore continued, “We still have our eyes on you, but wanted to say thanks for last night. I wish I could have delivered that punch.”
“If you hadn’t, we would never have known what that creep did to our sister,” Rocco said.
Devon stretched to his full height. Talking about Elena without her next to him didn’t seem fair, even if that could buy him some brownie points with her family. “It’s alright.”
Salvatore stretched out his hand. “Start over?”
Devon took it, and gave him a neutral smile. “Sure.”
“Like he said, though, we are still worried about Elena’s best interests.” Rocco narrowed his green eyes at him. “She doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore.”
“No, she doesn’t,” he agreed. Was he hurting her? No. He never promised her anything more than sex, and she seemed to go along with his no-strings rule. Even though sometimes, it was like a lingering emotion drew them to each other like an anchor to the bottom of the ocean. “What about the others?” Devon asked, willing away his thoughts, and pointing at the other Moretti brothers. Emilio, the official fiancé, chatted with his woman, Tiffany something, while Raffaello mingled with the guests.
“They’ll come around.”
Rocco took another gulp of scotch. “Maybe.”
“What happened to her ex? Should we look for him at a hospital or morgue somewhere?”
Salvatore chuckled. “We’re Italians, but not the mafia. Besides what Elena may think, we know Timothy was sick. We won’t talk to him again, but if she wants to press charges against him, that’s her choice. We’ll support her either way,” he said, the planes of his face sobering.
“Good. Did you tell her that?”
Salvatore nodded. “Yes.”
Devon smiled to himself. A strange sense of completion washed over him, like he just won over a big account. One way or another, Elena would be fine. “Then it’s all that matters.”
Arietta called them for the toast, and she smiled at Devon. Phew. Of all the members of the Moretti family, Elena’s mother was the one he really didn’t want to disappoint if he didn’t have to.
Another waiter offered him more champagne, and he took a glass. Maybe it would be best to enjoy the moment.
Hours later, they walked through the lobby, Elena leaning into Devon. It felt right. Like they were a long standing couple with a history instead of just two people having a sexual fling.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked as they walked through the lobby, close to each other, their intimacy mimicking that of a seasoned couple.
He massaged the small of her back. “Yes. They seem like a good couple together.”
“Are we good together, Devon?” she asked, and he smelled alcohol on her breath. He gazed at her, and the glint of mischief in her big caramel eyes put everything else into the background. Even though it was clearly after midnight, a few guests still hurried to get out of the hotel and get on with their lives. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too boring for you.”
