Need Me (2 page)

“I hardly think that I need to stay at your place.” Julianna’s words were calm. Almost excruciatingly polite. She stood in his home, her hands folded in front of her, her clothes torn and dirty, and smeared blood was on her cheek. “I have a home where I can stay, you know. I don’t need—”

“Until I can figure out more about your case,” Devlin gritted out, “I want you staying with me.”

A freaking car bomb.
How the hell did that relate to the stabbing death of her husband? He’d felt the lance of that heat across his skin. Devlin knew just how damn close they’d both come to serious injury. Someone was definitely out to get Julianna, and if he hadn’t thought she was innocent before, well, he was sure leaning that way now.

She looked vulnerable standing there. Delicate. Fragile.

And too beautiful by far.

Julianna was one of those women who seemed to have a perfect, untouchable beauty. Cheekbones made of glass. Skin creamy and smooth. A slightly curving chin, a button nose, but lips—lips that were full and sinful. Her lips were currently unpainted, but they’d been a slick red when she first walked into his office.

Too sexy.

Now the only red on her…that was the faint blood that smeared across one high cheekbone. She’d been cut during the explosion. He hated that she’d been hurt. Devlin pointed down the hallway. “You can use my bathroom to clean up.” The cops had rushed to the scene. He and Julianna had been grilled, again and again. He’d actually gotten lucky because Detective Faith Chestang had been leading the investigation. That woman knew how to get shit done at the PD. She also knew to keep him in the loop on this investigation, just as VJS would be sure to keep her updated on all the intel they uncovered.

Julianna’s head was tilted down. Some of her blonde hair had come loose from the twist at the back of her head. Those tendrils slid against her cheeks.

“Julianna?”

She glanced up at him and when he met her gaze, it was as if he’d just taken a punch to the gut. Julianna’s eyes were so deep. A dark chocolate, but flecked with gold. Gorgeous eyes. Eyes that seemed to see
into
him, and Devlin couldn’t have that. He didn’t want anyone seeing the particular sins he carried in his soul.

“Do you ever feel like…” Julianna began, her voice soft, “you’re trapped in some kind of nightmare? And no matter what you do, you just can’t wake up?”

He’d been there, a time or twenty. “Your nightmare started when you woke up to find your husband’s dead body.”

She laughed, the sound bitter and sharp. “No, the nightmare began after I said ‘I do’ to my husband. By then, it was too late.”

Devlin tensed. He’d suspected this might have happened—and it fucking pissed him off. “He hurt you.”

She turned away. Her steps were slow as she headed to the bathroom. “Let’s just say I didn’t exactly cry over his body.”

“What did he do?”

She didn’t answer. Julianna continued down the hall, presumably going to the bathroom. His eyes narrowed as he watched her. If he was taking her case—and he
was—
then he needed to know all the details of her marriage. Even if those details made him want to go out and kill Jeremy Smith.
You can’t kill the dead.

If only. Devlin turned and headed into his home office. The space was filled with top-of-the-line computers that would give him access to nearly everything. Early in life, he’d discovered his talent with computers. They’d opened doors for him. Shown him a whole new world.

A world of secrets and lies. People pretended so often, they hid their true selves, but with his computers, he could find their secrets.

Devlin sat down at his desk. In seconds, he’d pulled up the news stories about Julianna’s trial.

Socialite charged in murder of developer husband.

Police arrest wife…charge her with the murder of billionaire Jeremy Smith.

She’d been tried quickly in the court of public opinion. After all, she’d been alone in the house with her husband. Her fingerprints had been on the knife. Her husband’s blood had been found on her clothes.

And witnesses had come forward. Folks who’d been too willing to share that the gorgeous Julianna and her prominent husband hadn’t exactly been living in wedded bliss. There had been stories of jealous rages. Arguments. A secret lover…Jeremy’s step-daughter, Heather Aslo, had only been too happy to point her well-manicured finger at Julianna. She’d been sure that Julianna committed the crime.

Devlin leaned forward. He needed to access the police files on her case. So maybe he was bending—breaking?—the law a bit. His fingers flew over the keyboard. He’d get the information that he needed.

A soft hand touched his shoulder.

Swearing, he whirled around.

Julianna was there. Her face had been scrubbed clean of make-up. Her hair was wet, falling to her shoulders and brushing over the white, terry-cloth robe that she wore. His robe.

He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. When he started working, he tended to get lost and with this case—

“Digging up all my dirty secrets?”

He hadn’t heard her walking across the room. He
should
have heard her. He glanced down, automatically, and saw her red toenails.

Were toes supposed to be sexy? Shit, but he had to get his act together with this woman. His gaze shot back to her face.

“You could ask me,” Julianna continued, giving a slow shake of her head. “Instead of just digging and assuming that I’d lie to you.”

Right. Just ask. “Who’s your lover?”

She blinked at him.

She’d been beautiful with her makeup, it had given her a sophisticated, polished air. Without it, she looked more vulnerable, a bit younger…and still too sexy. Devlin realized that when Julianna was around, he thought with his dick far too much.

“I don’t have a lover.”

Lie.
He sighed. “Come on. I thought you weren’t going to lie.”

“I’m not lying.” Her hands slid into the pockets of the robe. “I don’t have a lover.”

“Your husband has been dead and buried for seven months—”

She flinched at that.

“And you haven’t been with anyone since he died? A woman like you? You expect me to believe that?”

Julianna backed up a step. “A woman like me? Just what kind of woman am I?”

A woman who made him think of sin and silk sheets. Of soft moans and hot sex. He cleared his throat and very wisely decided not to tell her that. “Multiple witnesses reported that your husband believed you’d been having an affair. There were public arguments—”

“Right.” She cut him off, her voice clipped. “There were plenty of arguments. Because if my dress was cut too low or if it was too tight, Jeremy thought I was trying to seduce every man in the room. If I went out for a jog and didn’t come back within twenty minutes, he was sure I’d met a lover. He hired several PIs—but they all told him the same thing, I wasn’t cheating.”

He waited.

“I couldn’t cheat, even if I’d wanted to. He was always watching or he always had someone watching me.” Her face paled and her gaze seemed to see the past. “I’m not going to jail, because I’ve already been a prisoner.
His
prisoner. He controlled my life, and I
hated
him for it.”

Devlin had suspected something like this. “He abused you.”

Julianna’s gaze sharpened on him. “That wouldn’t make sense. He wanted me to be his perfect wife, perfect all the time. If I had bruises or broken bones, how could I be perfect?” There was something in her voice—a hitch—that made him think she was lying again.

He didn’t want lies between them. “You hated him, so why didn’t you leave him?” But Devlin already thought he knew the answer. Money. The number one motivator for—

“Stop it.” Now anger bit in her voice. “You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” Then she shot forward and jammed her finger into his chest. “You’re thinking that I’m some slut who had her eyes on the prize. That I married Jeremy for his money and that I stayed with him—stayed in that hell—because I wanted the cash he’d give to me.”

“That’s a story I’ve heard before,” he replied bluntly. She wouldn’t be the first woman to make a trade like that. Not the first woman
or
man.

“It’s not my story.”

She still had her finger jabbing into his chest. He lifted a brow. “Why don’t you tell me your story?”

“I thought I loved him.”

Devlin’s whole body tensed.

“What? You think I’m too mercenary for that? Too cold? It’s the truth, okay? I was working for Jeremy, in his PR department. I didn’t want to date the boss, I didn’t want that kind of reputation, but he…courted me.” Her finger slid away. Her shoulders rolled back as she straightened her spine. “And in the beginning, it was nice. Flowers. Dinners. He made me feel special. Like I mattered to him.” Her smile was bittersweet. “I hadn’t exactly felt that way a lot.”

Why the fuck not?

“It was a whirlwind courtship and marriage. I should have slowed down. I should have played it safe. But I’d been playing things safe my whole life, and I took a chance.” She shook her head. “I realized my mistake soon enough. When your husband starts screaming at you because you make the mistake of glancing at a handsome man on the street, you know something is wrong.”

He waited. She didn’t say anything else. “But you stayed…”

“He had power. Money.”

Right. They were back to—

“He made sure I didn’t have either. I had no access to our checking account or our savings account, and he had his flunkies transfer all of my own assets over to him the minute I said, ‘I do’. I told you already, it got to the point where I couldn’t go anywhere without him watching me—or without one of his guards there to follow my every step. I was his prisoner. Another acquisition that he’d wanted, and now that he had me, Jeremy had no intention of letting me go.”

Anger and fear—he could see those emotions on her face and hear them in her voice. Devlin ran his hand across the stubble that lined his jaw. “I can’t help you if you just lie to me.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. The top of the robe parted a bit, revealing her creamy skin and the swell of her breasts. “I’m not lying!”

“Yes, you are.” He jerked his thumb toward the computer. “One of the first things I did was access your medical reports.”

She paled.

“Two days after your wedding, you broke your right wrist.”

“I fell.”

“It was shattered. According to the report, the injury was consistent with your wrist being slammed in a door.”

Her long lashes flickered.

“Did you try to get away from him then?” Devlin asked, his own anger growing because of the pain that she’d been through. “You’re a smart woman. I bet you were ready to cut and run once he dropped his charming mask, but something stopped you that day.
He
stopped you, right?”

“Is that what you want to hear?” Julianna turned from him and paced to the window. “That I realized I’d made a huge mistake? That I ran to my car, jumped inside and tried to get away from him?” Her soft sigh slipped back to him. “That Jeremy yanked me out of the car and when I fought him, he slammed the car door shut on my wrist?”

His hands fisted. Fury burned in his blood.

“Why the hell would I have stayed with him if he did that to me?” Julianna asked. “I would have run, money or no damn money.”

He stalked toward her. “Maybe there was a reason you couldn’t go.”

She turned to look back at him.

“Tell me everything, Julianna. Tell me or I won’t be able to do my job.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she quickly pressed her lips together, stopping that tell-tale movement. Moments ticked by in silence.

“Tell me,” Devlin urged again. There had to be something there. Yes, she’d hated her husband—that was obvious. Jeremy cutting off her money would have slowed her down, but if she wanted to get away…

“Sometimes, the only way out is death.”

“No.” Devlin was the one to reach out to her then, but he made sure to keep his grip gentle as his fingers curled around her shoulders. “There are other options. Death isn’t an escape. It’s just the easy way.”

She laughed at him. “There’s nothing easy about it.”

His eyes narrowed on her. They were so close now. Close enough for him to easily see the gold flecks in her eyes. Close enough to kiss.

If he’d wanted to kiss her.

If she’d wanted to kiss him.

“What did he have on you?” Devlin murmured.

And there it was. Her pupils expanded. Her delicate nostrils flared. Devlin knew he’d struck gold. “He blackmailed you into staying with him, didn’t he?” Devlin pushed. “You said it wasn’t the money, so it had to be something else.
Tell me
. What did he have on you?”

“I’m done talking for tonight.” She tried to pull away.

Keeping his hold gentle, but firm, he didn’t let her go. “I’m not done with you. Tell me your secrets, Julianna…or I’ll discover them on my own. After all, you’re the one who said I should just ask you. I’m asking. Will you be telling?”

Her gaze searched his. He waited, wondering what she could have done that would have been so terrible that she’d stayed with that bastard. Stayed in his house and his bed and—

Julianna leaned toward him. She rose onto her tip toes, and she kissed him. He hadn’t been expecting that move from her. He’d fantasized about it, sure, but Devlin hadn’t anticipated she’d actually kiss him.

But he wasn’t a fool. If Julianna wanted to kiss him, then who the hell was he to argue?

He leaned down, leaned
closer
, and put his arms around her. She was small, delicate, while he was the exact opposite. Devlin topped out at a few inches past six feet, and he was well aware of the strength in his body. Strength he used carefully, with her. Devlin picked her up, holding her easily and her mouth pulled back from his in surprise.

“What are you—” Julianna began.

“You started this,” Devlin growled back. “I’ll finish it.” Then he pressed her back against the nearest wall. He held her there, easily, and he kissed her again.

Her lips were parted. Moist. And when his tongue stroked into her mouth, her taste made him feel a little drunk. Sweet but rich.