Crimes of the Heart (5 page)

When she trailed off, he glimpsed the raw pain washing over her features.
No, it wasn’t false words. Everything I felt was real,
too damn real.
But how could he admit it to her without revealing the guarded part of him, the part that couldn’t afford to be vulnerable to anyone ever again.
I’ve been hurt too many times already.

She must have seen something telling in his carefully controlled expression; she retreated a step, and then another. An emptiness echoed inside him at the loss. Clutching the edge of the sink in a white-knuckled grip and taking short, quick breaths, she asked, “So, our secret marriage all those years ago meant nothing to you.”

Two hours later, Devon paced her living room. The cranberry painted walls, matching sofa, multi-colored quilt hanging on the wall, and several carefully placed plants created warmth.

A deep buried chord struck inside him as the feeling of coziness enveloped him. In his line of work, he’d toured hundreds of completed houses in the last decade and never had any professionally decorated interior conveyed such a heartwarming atmosphere.

Muffled voices floated to him through the thin ceiling
. My son. My wife.

Blowing out a hot breath, Devon released the pent-up anger at her, at himself. He’d come down hard on her. Twelve years of suppressed emotions would do that to a man. Holding onto it for so long had only made it worse. Discovering he’d been a father all that time added another layer of injustice.

First and foremost, he owed her an apology. He’d set things right between them. Hadn’t he been a master of righting wrongs all his life? The worst wrong of all, the one to his father’s tarnished reputation, needed to be addressed soon. How could he begin to unravel the mystery of the twenty-year-old embezzlement charge?

Jewel, his mind whispered what he’d failed to admit before arriving in town. He’d suspected she held some clues to the puzzle, unknowingly or otherwise. She had one more thing he wanted: answers.

Shaking his head to clear it of the daunting task of approaching the sensitive subject with her, Devon turned his attention back to his present situation. After the apology he’d thank her for keeping the baby when she’d been all alone and for doing a damn fine job of raising Sean.

Smiling inwardly, he allowed his mind to wander to their offspring. Sean, polite, well-mannered, unspoiled, protective of his mother, possessed many of the qualities Devon admired.
I could never have accomplished half of what she has with him.

A bead of perspiration slid down the back of his neck as nagging doubts chased through his thoughts.
Will she allow me to participate in raising our son now? Will she come live with me and be my wife in every sense of the word?

***

In the dimly lit room, Jewel hugged Sean tight, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “Okay, Champ, to bed with you.”

He climbed the ladder to the top bunk bed. “I can’t wait to tell the guys at school tomorrow about dad. Man, he’s the coolest and his Vette is awesome, even Kev said so.”

Bending, she picked up the trail of clothes littering his floor, and then deposited them in his hamper. “Oh, he did, did he? And it’s important to you what your friends think?”
Just like Devon.

Blankets and sheets rustled as he pulled them back. “Oh, Mom,” he whined as if she didn’t understand guy things. “Of course it is.”

Sighing, she tried to bite her tongue. Moving to the bed, she smoothed the covers, and then drew them up under his arms. “I’m glad you’ve got lots of friends, Sean. But remember, it’s what’s inside that counts the most.”

He thumped his pillow a couple of times before settling down. “You keep saying that stuff over and over again.” He paused for a moment. “Mom?” It came out almost a whisper.

“What, honey?”

“I’m happy dad’s here. I just knew he’d come back one day, even if he didn’t know about me, I knew he’d be back to see you.”

Tears smarted the backs of her eyes. He’d never told her this dream. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause you’re way too pretty and nice. All my friends say so. Well…they do say sometimes you act like you might not care, especially when someone says something nasty about you, but you really do, you just hide it, that’s all.”

Stunned wonder robbed her of speech for a moment.
How did he know so much? I’ve been so careful to keep it concealed
.

Sean cut into her thoughts, saying, “I set them straight though, so it’s all cool now. Hey, Mom, do you think dad thinks I’m a sissy for wearing these pajamas with cars all over them?”

His question held more than curiosity, it begged for assurance, acceptance.

“No way. But if it bothers you, we can always buy you some new ones.”

She detected the release of his breath in the darkened room. “Cool.” Another pause, and then he asked, “Do…do you think he likes me…even just a little?”

“What’s not to like?” she hastened to answer, to leave no doubt in his mind.

“I hoped so, but I wasn’t sure.”

Her heart twisted, wringing out all her hesitations on Devon’s request. Only the gift and joy she could give her son remained behind.
What do my concerns matter in the face of granting my son happiness?

“Hey, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” She stood at the head of his bed, a couple feet from him as he propped his head in his hand with his elbow digging into the spongy pillow.

“It sounds serious. Is this about me interrupting you two earlier, you know, right after I hung up with Kev? You seemed kind of mad at each other.”

A tickle of fear edged his last statement. How should she reply? “We were. We haven’t seen each other in years and I think all that old stuff has just been building up inside. We’re trying to sort it all out. Um…that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Your father wants us to be a real family.”

He sat up quick. “Really? Awesome! Wait till I tell Kev and the guys. Man, all my wishes are coming true in one day.”

His jubilation made everything right. She’d give this to him and prayed both their hearts were never broken again by Devon Marshall.

Five minutes later, Jewel walked gingerly across the tiled kitchen floor. Through the living room archway, she watched Devon pace and drag a hand through his thick, wavy hair. Curling her fingers into her palms, she stopped the urge to go to him and feel the satiny texture. But she didn’t halt her exploration of his lean, muscular body in white shirt and black jeans. Contained power, the thought sprang to her mind. What would it be like to touch him, kiss him again? Heat gathered low in her middle.

“Devon.” It came out sultry. She swallowed hard when he swiveled to face her, his gaze locking with hers. A light flashed in the depths of his eyes, telling her without words the male awareness sparking to life.

Breaking the enticing connection, she moved to the sofa on shaky legs. “We need to talk.”

In three long strides, he reached her side. The cushion dipped when he took a seat, bringing his thigh in contact with hers. Warmth branded her, but she restrained herself from pulling away. A part of her longed for the caress.

“Can I go first?” he asked, startling her at the polite request and the dramatic change in him. Turning to him, she nodded, and he continued, “I’m not good at this part, so bear with me, all right? I’m sorry. I said some pretty vile things to you—”

“You didn’t mean them?”

He blew out a breath. The gust of hot air fanned across her face, dragging up other times when he’d done the same only he’d been deep inside her then, breathing heavy. The coil in her abdomen tightened, sending an ache straight to her core.

“I meant them.”

His reply brought her crashing down. Confusion took hold. “But you said you were apologizing. What for?”

“For being an ass.”

The tension fizzled out of her. “Well, I didn’t know people had to say they were sorry for that. Man, I’ve got a lot of apologies to make.”

“Join the club, dollface.” A smile laced his words, but it was the easy use of his nickname for her that warmed the coldest regions of her heart.

“I always liked your strange brand of humor,” she said wistfully, leaning back and tucking her feet beneath her. Grabbing a nearby pillow, she hugged the soft fabric to herself.

He shot her a glance. “Why, because it was sometimes directed at myself?”

When will that chip fall off your shoulder?
“No, because it held the truth.”

Obviously restless, he rose, and then paced the room. He pointed upstairs. “You’ve done a good job with him.”

“And that surprises you, doesn’t it?”

A sly grin transformed his features, making her breath hitch in the back of her throat. “Frankly, it does.”

Dragging her mind back to their conversation, she listened to the rest of what he had to say. He shrugged. “You can’t blame me for assuming that, not when you acted like a brat around your dad.”

Cringing inwardly and clenching her eyes shut, she said, “I wanted…to be loved.”
There, you’ve admitted it to him and yourself. Only he doesn’t know you still want to be loved. And he won’t, not if I can help it. I’ll never give anyone that kind of power over me again
. A drop of moisture trickled out of the corner of her eye and she swiped it away.

“So how did getting him to buy you things make him love you?” A mixture of confusion and curiosity mingled in his question.

Focusing on him, she tried to explain, “After my mom died I knew that the only way I got his attention was when I’d ask for something. The mention of money always captured his interest. Otherwise, he ignored me.”

Devon leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb to the little office she kept in the next room. Crossing his arms over his chest and one booted ankle over the other, he said gently, “Except for when you messed up that one time.”

Jerking her head back as if slapped, she continued the horrible story, “You tried to take the blame for me.”

“But you wouldn’t let me. Oh no, you spoke right up when he accused me of leaving the corral gate open.”

Jewel frowned. “But it was my fault. I did it, not you.”

“It would have been a hell of a lot easier if you’d left it alone. The one time you chose to tough it out and you paid dearly for it.”

“You mean the mare paid dearly, don’t you?” Pain throbbed in her voice.

“You both did,” he choked out, clearly reliving the scene just as she was doing now.

No, Daddy, don’t make me do it! Please don’t make me shoot her!
Her own screams echoed in her mind, careening through time to haunt Jewel to this day.

“The bastard!” Venom rang in his words.

Tears ran down her face. Through gritted teeth, she bit out, “He wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“We could have fixed her. Her leg was broken, not her spirit.” Emotion clogged his voice, reaching out to share her suffering now as he did then. “It would have taken a lot of money and time.” He shrugged. “The odds weren’t good. Infection could have set in. She’d never had been the same again. She may have died, anyway. But he could have tried.”

Covering her ears, Jewel flinched as if the shot blasted this minute, not thirteen years ago. The stench of gunpowder filled her nostrils. And the guttural cry of the horse twisted her heart in agony. Her whole body vibrated with the kickback of the rifle, her hands going numb.

“Jewel,” Devon whispered, shoving the pillow aside and gathering her in his arms, yanking her back to the here and now.

Burying her face in his hard chest, she clung to him. “It was so awful, Devon.” Sobs racked her body.

He said softly in her ear, “I know, dollface, I know. And it still hurts to think about it.”

A dagger sliced through Devon, ripping him in two. He eased back on the sofa, lifting Jewel in his lap. Pulling the long, silky strands of hair off her face, he felt the dampness. With an awed reverence, he gingerly brushed the pad of his thumb across her satiny cheek, erasing the moisture there. So soft, so pale.

“I should have done more.” Frustration welled inside him.

Teary violet eyes found his. His heart hitched and his middle clenched.

Shaking her head, she said, “No, Devon, you did everything you could have. When you tried to interfere he knocked you to the ground. I thought he’d killed you. You were so still for so long and I saw the trickle of blood…”

“Lord, I hated him for forcing you to do that.”

He felt the shiver of revulsion that coursed through her and drew her closer. Gently, he stroked her back, trying to ease the bunched up muscles and trying to soothe her troubled soul.

“I hated him, too. But, I also loved him. I know it sounds strange, but it’s the truth.”

A part of him, the part that carried his father with him, knew exactly what she meant. “I still hate mine for dying on me and leaving nothing for my mother and me
.
”
I can’t believe I just told her that.
He waited for her reaction, hoping she wouldn’t try to dig deeper into the hidden recesses of his soul; he was afraid she’d find herself there.

She sighed, relaxing into him. A hint of her rose perfume drifted to him, tugging at the embers of desire swirling low in his gut.

When she tucked her head into his neck, Devon thought he’d experienced a little piece of heaven. Closing his eyes, he relished the soft curves pressing into him.

“That brought us together,” she murmured. Her sultry voice did the strangest things to him.

“I came to your window that night for the first time.” He chuckled as the memory rushed back. “I thought I’d have to toss a hundred stones and break the glass before I got your attention.”

“I’d been crying.” Sniffing and scrubbing her eyes, she pulled back, and then got up to walk the length of the room.

His empty arms ached for her to return. But, by the look of her squared shoulders, he sensed the wish would go unanswered. Devon leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and bowing his head to collect his composure.