I stepped back, but his hold on my arm remained. “Devlin. My name’s Devlin.”
He dropped my hand, allowing me to walk away. The rough feel of his razor stubble remained on my hand, and the perplexed look on his face was a snapshot in my head.
Devlin
She was exactly as I remembered. Her blonde hair was a bit longer and her smile lit up her eyes. I’d spent so many years imagining what it’d be like to really look into her eyes, and they’d left me breathless.
Hazel.
Her eyes were soft brown cradled in green. Her intense gaze could warm anyone’s soul, and once, she’d done that for me.
Moving to Washington was a mistake. I’d occasionally tracked Juliana in the early years, but when she moved to Seattle, it became more of an obsession than checking in on her wellbeing.
The coffee incident shouldn’t have happened. I’d lingered too long, forgetting about a prior engagement. When I received the call from my assistant, I’d rushed down the street just as Juliana had come stumbling out of her favorite café.
She’d been nervous and a bit bewildered when she’d looked into my eyes. So many different expressions crossed her face, but the one I’d always expected, the one I dreamed about, wasn’t present.
I was a perfect stranger to her, but she still sensed danger. She still saw the underlying darkness that ran so deep I never saw the light. Her first instinct had been to run, get away. Her senses knew, but her mind was clueless. Our senses had a way of standing on end when they recognized a threat. And although she was a little frightened, she was also attracted to me, something I’d read clearly in her shy glances, the hitch in her breaths, and how flustered she became by touching me.
It wasn’t something I’d expected, but I knew instantly I was going to take full advantage of it. It wouldn’t be hard to insinuate myself into her life, but once there, I knew I’d never leave. Or let her leave.
Therein lay the problem. I knew there was no happy ending for us. Eventually, she’d find out the truth. Then I’d let the darkness swallow me up, and my ironclad hold on her would send her tumbling down with me.
“Sir.” I looked up at the head of my security. Having totally blocked out all the noise of the club with thoughts of Juliana, I’d almost forgotten where I was. “The girl is leaving with her friends.”
“Follow them. Make sure she gets home safe.” With a quick nod, he turned and left me alone in the loft.
Juliana came to the club often, and I’d never thought to let her see me, but after that run-in on the street, the game changed. I wasn’t satisfied with being in the background, a voyeur to the life I’d so heavily impacted. I wanted to touch her. I needed her to make me feel once more. If we both ended up more damaged from it, it’d be worth it just to have a few nights of that rare feeling again.
Chapter Four
Juliana
I immediately noticed Devlin, waiting in a nearby parking lot as I came out of my lecture. He stood out. I actually didn’t think the man fit in anywhere. He had the kind of presence that didn’t allow him to blend into crowds.
“Keep this up, and I’ll start to think you’re stalking me.”
The corner of Devlin’s lips rose slightly. This was my third time seeing him, and it was the closest thing to a smile I’d seen. He seemed a bit abashed—his smile almost shy. And shy didn’t seem like a word normally used to describe this man. Chasing after a woman was definitely not something he was used to doing. If everything had gone according to his plan, I might’ve already been yesterday’s news.
“Maybe you’d be on to something,” he replied, the smile vanishing, replaced with his usual intensely serious stare. He gazed at me as if I were a puzzle he was trying to piece together, but I wasn’t the chest full of secrets he appeared to be. Getting him to open up would be akin to breaking into Pandora’s Box. I felt the lingering danger, the screaming warnings from my conscience, but my basic animal urges for him would not be deterred by the whispered warning in my head. That primal need in me devoured anything in its way, including my common sense.
I stopped in front of him and took him in with a not so subtle once-over. Again, he was impeccably dressed in black slacks and a burgundy shirt with the cuffs rolled up, exposing strong forearms covered in a light dusting of brown hair. His arms were crossed, a few thick gold rings over several dark scars on his knuckles.
I halted a little too close to where he’d leaned up against his car, but couldn’t bring myself to back away.
“You know, people don’t usually admit to stalking.”