Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (33 page)

I was mesmerized by his face as I moved, taking his shaft deep, then letting the length of him slide out until only the tip touched my lips. He refused to close his eyes. His blue gaze burned into mine as I performed this intimate act on him. For him. But he wouldn’t let me continue for long before his hands were under my arms, pulling me to my feet.

He lifted me to wrap my legs around his waist, pushing inside me in a long, slow thrust. I clung to him as he kissed me, reveling in the feeling of being one with him, for the last time.

Devon kissed me, one arm wrapped around my back, the other sliding up the back of my neck. His fingers tangled in my hair as he kissed me with something more tonight, something tinged with a desperation that I felt, too.

He walked forward until we hit the bed, then braced his knees on the mattress and lowered me down, kissing me all the while. His hands moved down, the curve of my hips fitting in his palms. He made love to me slowly, languorously, as though he had all the time in the world to push me to the brink. Our skin became slick with a sheen of sweat, pleas and gasps falling from my lips. I urged him to move faster, harder, but he wouldn’t give in, and I shattered around him. His mouth covered mine when I cried out his name, and only when I was coming down from my high did he speed up. His body covered mine completely, his cock growing harder and thicker inside me. The wet sounds of our bodies as they came together made an intimate chorus to the words he whispered in my ear. Words I’d never thought I’d hear him say.

“I love you,” he said. “Never forget.”

A promise and a goodbye, and as his body shuddered in my arms, tears dripped from my eyes to slide down my cheek and into my hair.

Afterward, he held me close and I staved off sleep as long as I could, listening to the steady sound of his heart and the deep evenness of his breath. Our legs were tangled together and his fingers made gentle patterns on the small of my back. But I couldn’t stay awake forever, and as the hours passed, eventually my eyes grew too heavy, and sleep claimed me.

Devon was already awake and dressed the next morning when I woke, and with his outer armor came his inner armor. I could tell immediately that he was putting distance between us, but it didn’t make me angry. I understood. Self-preservation. An instinct he and I shared.

I showered in the tiny bathroom and dressed—a cap-sleeved wrap dress in a deep turquoise, the skirt hitting right above my knee. The fabric was soft and the neckline would have looked tacky on a woman with larger breasts, but on me it looked perfect. I could tell it was another designer creation made for the runway, and while I had no idea how he’d gotten hold of it, I knew it was a silent gift from him to me. Devon liked to dress me, perhaps only slightly less than undressing me, and he could afford to do so.

I French-braided my hair from one side of my head around to the other so the long tail draped over my shoulder. Wisps of hair escaped from the braid to dangle by my ear and neck. I took great care to look as good as I possibly could. If this was to be Devon’s last glimpse of me, I wanted it to be a good memory.

“These are for you,” he said when I came out of the bathroom, handing me a shoebox. He had a twinkle in his eye as I lifted the lid to see a pair of Jimmy Choo wedges. Again, I didn’t know how he’d come by them, I was just glad he had.

I smiled, determined to keep our last few hours together light and not mar the time by crying. Of course, the shoes fit perfectly.

“How do I look?” I asked, doing a slow pirouette.

Devon didn’t have to say anything; the slow burn in his eyes as he looked me down and back up told me exactly how I looked.

“Stunning,” he said, and his voice was rougher than usual.

I felt the sting of tears and quickly looked away. “You’re looking pretty dapper yourself,” I said. And boy, did he ever.

No man I’d ever known could wear a suit like Devon. Custom-tailored, it fit perfectly, stretching across his wide shoulders and tapering to his lean hips. You couldn’t tell he had a holster and weapon underneath his arm, and the deep gray he wore today made his eyes seem an even paler shade of blue than usual.

He’d once told me that he wore a suit to “blend in.” I didn’t understand then and I still didn’t know how he could ever blend
into a crowd. My eye was immediately drawn to him, the magnetism and charisma he exuded was something that couldn’t be learned, but had been born in him. And beyond all of that was the edge of danger and menace emanating from him. The old phrase “not to be trifled with” came to mind, and it fit him perfectly.

“I have one more thing for you,” he said, reaching inside his jacket and handing me a rectangular, blue Tiffany box.

I carefully lifted the lid, gasping in amazement when I saw what it contained.

A necklace, but unlike any I’d ever seen. The pendant was a yellow, pear-shaped diamond, so brilliant it looked as though the sun shone through it. Surrounding the diamond were small, round white diamonds.

“It’s beautiful,” I said as Devon lifted the jewelry from the box.

“Turn around,” he said, and I complied.

He fastened the necklace for me, then gently turned me so he could see it.

“It doesn’t do justice to your beauty,” he said. “But it reminded me of you. Sunlight shining through something incredibly strong. That’s what you are to me.”

I was speechless, tears filling my eyes. Leaning down, Devon pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to my lips. When he lifted his head, our gazes locked together. For a moment, I could see in his eyes the pain echoing inside me, then there was a knock at the door and the moment was lost.

“Come in,” Devon called, and the valet bustled inside to take our luggage.

The flight back stopped in L.A., where I would catch a flight to St. Louis and Devon would fly on to London.

It was chilly on the plane and there wasn’t much to see out the window, not that I would have noticed. Devon and I had eyes only for each other. We didn’t say much. We didn’t need words. We both
knew our time together was measured in hours now, rather than days. He held my hand and alternately kissed me and just touched me, his hand cradling my jaw.

Finally, the announcement that landing was imminent came over the sound system. We held hands as the plane landed, then joined the line of people waiting to deplane. Devon stood close behind me, his presence solid at my back. His hands slid softly up my arms to my shoulders, then back down to my elbows, a last touch of skin against skin. It made me want to cry, but I bit my lip until it hurt enough to chase the tears away.

My eyes were busy drinking in each movement Devon made. His arm was draped across my shoulders, holding me close to his side as we walked through the airport. He didn’t look at me. His training was such that his eyes were always moving, always assessing possible threats, in a way that was as much a part of him as the way he walked.

When we came to the center of the terminals, he reached into his suit jacket and handed over two tickets for St. Louis. “This will get you home,” he said.

“Wait,” I asked, confused as I glanced at them. “Why two?”

“I thought you could use some company for the flight,” he replied, nodding over my shoulder.

I turned around and my jaw fell open in shock.

Logan was standing a few yards away, watching us. He looked hesitant, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. My vision blurred as tears came to my eyes and in the next moment we were walking toward each other, then I was caught up in his arms as he lifted me off the ground.

“Hey, Ives,” he said softly in my ear.

“Logan,” I choked out. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He squeezed me tight, then lowered me to my feet. “I was a complete and total dick,” he said bluntly. “And I’m sorry.”

I smiled through my tears. “Me, too.”

“All is well between BFFs?” Devon said from behind me. I turned around, sadness striking once again.

“Yes. Thank you, Devon.”

Logan gave him a curt nod. “Yeah. Thanks.” And I was gratified, because he did sound grateful. The animosity that had marked his interaction with Devon previously was now gone.

“You just needed some time to figure out what an arse you were being,” Devon chided him, his lips twitching in a half-smile.

Logan grimaced, then caught my eye. I raised an eyebrow and he gave me a sheepish smile. “True.”

“My flight is departing shortly,” Devon said to Logan. “If you wouldn’t mind giving us a few moments?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Logan said, walking away a few paces and leaving Devon and me alone. An island of two in a sea of humanity.

We said nothing at first, our eyes locked together. It was only through sheer force of will that I kept the tears at bay. I didn’t want our parting to be marked by sorrow any more than it already was.

His arms lifted and I went into them automatically.

Devon’s lips met mine in a kiss that was bittersweet. I didn’t want to cry so I pushed away the thought that it was our last. Instead, I tried to memorize the taste and texture of his lips as they moved over mine, the feel of his arms around me, the fingers of one hand sifting through my hair while the other curved around my hip.

It was several long moments before Devon slowly pulled back. Resting his forehead against mine, his voice was quiet as he said, “Remember. You’re strong. Stronger than you realize. You’ve survived so much, and yet your soul is pure. Don’t let the darkness consume you again. Do you hear me, sweet Ivy?”

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

“You’re beautiful, inside and out. The past is gone forever. Tomorrow is never assured. There’s only today. Live in today. Promise me.”

“I promise.” My voice was barely audible. I knew these were the last things he wanted to tell me, and I tried to memorize each word.

“I’ll think of you,” he said, and now his voice was even lower. “Quite often, I’m absolutely certain.”

I wanted to ask again, to beg him to change his mind and choose a different path, one I could share with him, but I swallowed down the words. My asking would only taint the goodbye he was trying to make.

His smile was brief, as was the gentle swipe of his thumb across my lower lip. “Take care, sweet Ivy. Be well.”

“You, too,” I managed. “Be careful.” I knew that the odds of me ever seeing him again were smaller only than my ever finding out if something happened to him.

We didn’t say any “I love yous,” and I was glad. I think that might have broken me. As it was, he wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tight, then pressed a light kiss to my forehead. When he let me go, his fingers caught at mine, pressing once as he stepped away. In moments, he was lost in the crowd.

As I stared into the streams of passing people, unblinking, hoping for one more glimpse, a hand latched on to mine. Logan.

“I’m sorry, Ives,” he said.

I looked up at him, tears on my lashes.

“I’m not so big of a jerk as to want you to lose the man you love,” he said. Reaching out, he brushed a wet trail from my cheek and draped his arm over my shoulders. Drawing me close for a hug, I felt his lips brush my forehead. “I’m really sorry,” he repeated.

The familiar feel of him was comforting and I was deeply glad he was there. “Thank you for coming,” I said, clearing my throat and blinking rapidly to dispel the tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Bullshit,” he retorted without heat. “You deserve better than
I treated you. Especially after all the shit that happened.” Tugging on my hand, he said, “C’mon. Let’s head to our gate.”

We walked side by side to security, pulling out our passports and tickets to get through. I glanced at mine, getting another jolt when I saw Devon had again used the “Mrs. Rose Ross” name and passport for mine. Once through, we walked to our gate and sat down. The flight wasn’t for another couple of hours. I wandered to the screens that showed departures, noting that Devon’s flight to London left in mere minutes, though from a different terminal.

Strolling to the windows, I watched the planes take off, wondering which of them carried the man I’d fallen in love with . . . and lost.

I felt a presence behind me and saw Logan’s reflection in the window.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

I thought about it before I answered. “I’m okay,” I said. “It was never going to work, but it meant more—I meant more to him—than I thought.” I turned to face him. “That’s something, right?”

“Damn straight,” he said with a small smile. “He’d have been a fool otherwise.”

“I wish . . .” But my voice trailed off and I didn’t finish the sentence.

“You wish what?”

I shrugged. “I wish he’d felt a bit more. Maybe then I could have competed with the loyalty he has for his job. But however much it was, it wasn’t enough in the end.”

Logan didn’t say anything to that, not that I needed him to. It felt good to say it, though. Acknowledge the truth of it.

“Want to get something to eat before we take off?” he asked.

I was hungry, so that sounded good. “Yeah, let’s.”

We wandered to a small restaurant near our gate and ordered.
The service was quick and it wasn’t long before we were finishing up. Logan and I had chatted while we ate, him catching me up on the white lies he’d told Grams and Grandpa about what had happened that night Devon and I had left.