"Sweetheart," he ground out, sliding his hands down to her hips. "Do that again and I won't last much longer."
"You'll last." She quickened her pace, riding him hard and fast.
"Lean forward," he commanded.
Renee obliged, leaning forward until his mouth closed over her breast. He sucked her nipple hard, making her squirm on top of him.
She groaned and pushed down hard. He stretched her, filled her, making her altogether mindless.
"Do you like that?" He flicked his tongue over her nipple.
"Yes."
"How about this?" He rubbed his thumb over her clitoris.
"Oh...yes."
He rubbed faster and Renee's head spun. She closed her eyes, riding the sensation until her body contracted around him as she came.
When she opened her eyes, she met his darkened gaze. With a knowing smile, she reached a hand behind her to massage his sac. He groaned and a few minutes later he came inside her.
"Christ, you're going to the death of me." He groaned. "I'm too old for this much sex."
Renee climbed off him and rolled her eyes. "You're thirty-seven? Hardly a senior citizen."
"A quick online search give you my age?" he asked as she walked to the bathroom to cleanup.
"Yes. You're a favorite on the gossip sites. The mysterious, disreputable, Devon Murray."
"So I've noticed. Did you know that when you came to the party, I thought you were a reporter?"
"I kinda got that impression when you were demanding to know who I worked for." Renee came back into the room a few seconds later. "Not a reporter. Just a woman determined to steal from you." She grabbed the diary again. "Speaking of, let's get back to work."
He blinked. "That really was just a quick sex break for you."
"We can go for a longer one later." She tried to read the page where he'd left off. Sighing, she held it back to him. "I still can't read this. Will you do the honors?"
He took the diary from her and stared down at it.
Renee stood, unable to completely dismiss her earlier idea. "Remember when I suggested that maybe you'd tapped into Darren's memories? Now that I know they were lovers, it could also explain why we're so good in bed together. Why we just...fit."
Devon laughed and shook his head. "I told you, I don't buy into that kind of stuff."
"I know, it's just...never mind. Do you care if I run and grab a quick shower?"
"Go for it." Devon was already engrossed in the diary again.
Renee couldn't help but watch him for a few seconds more, and then turned and went into the bathroom.
Devon stared down at the diary, but his mind wasn't on the words in front of him. It was on Renee's sexual appetite and how similar it was to his. She was like nobody he'd ever been with.
Was he falling for her? This fast? Oddly, he suspected he might be. She was a sexy, confident woman. He'd also been hooked the moment he'd heard about her doggy daycare. He was an avid animal lover with three dogs and two cats back at the estate.
The shower turned on.
Enough. He needed to figure out this diary thing. Besides, thinking about being in love-or at the mercy of a woman-after only two days was a little troublesome.
While Renee showered, Devon finished reading every page of the diary. And even though he finished the book, he still had some unanswered questions.
Renee came back dressed in a fuzzy pink bathrobe. "So, did you find out what happened to the brooch?"
"I'm not sure, but apparently Darren and Anne weren't just having casual sex."
She giggled. "Well, casual sex wasn't exactly fashionable back then, was it?"
Devon looked up at her. "He asked her to marry him."
Chapter Fourteen
Renee sat on the bed, a look of astonishment on her face. "But... no, they didn't marry. Anne married a butcher and had lots of babies. That's where we gained the Stoddard name. I just don't understand."
"I'm not sure I do either. She wrote that she accepted his proposal and that he gave her the ruby brooch as an engagement gift."
"Darren gave her the brooch?"
"Yes." Devon glanced at the journal. "They were going to elope together. But the day they were supposed to leave Darren never showed up."
Renee didn't say anything, but her lips thinned.
"There's more," he went on, feeling like a complete ass for what his ancestor had done. "The brooch disappeared from her vanity table shortly before they were to be married. She never saw it, or Darren again."
She reared back, as if he'd thrown the diary at her.
"I'm sorry, Renee." Devon set the diary down and took her hand. "I wish I knew what he did with it. I'd give it to you without hesitation. It's yours and it belongs with your family."
She pulled her hand free. "It doesn't matter if it doesn't exist, right?"
Her sharp words had unease sliding through him.
"I'm sorry, Devon. Look, I'm pretty tired. Maybe we should call it a night."
He frowned, not pleased with the turn of events, and yet unable to blame her one bit. Especially after what he'd just read.
"Sure. I'll leave." He stood up and grabbed his jacket, giving her plenty of chances to say something or protest. She was strangely silent, her body rigid with tension.
When it was clear that she'd closed a mental door between them, Devon gave up and left her.
She needed time, and he would be enough of a gentleman to give it to her.
Renee watched his car pull away and then dropped the curtain back into place.
Damn, she shouldn't have taken it out on him. The poor guy had come over to help her tonight, and she'd damn near kicked him out. Actually, there was no ‘near' about it. She did kick him out.
Walking back to her bedroom, she glanced at the diary before sinking down onto the bed.
Maybe she'd gotten too caught up in the idea that Devon was an old soul. That he'd tapped into Darren's memories. With those kinds of romantic notions in her head it was no wonder she was feeling so disappointed.
Darren Murray had been a ruthless man. He'd ruined Anne's reputation, stolen back the ruby brooch he'd given her, and left her to fend for herself. Broken-hearted and alone.
Maybe it shouldn't have bothered her so much. After all, it had happened centuries ago. But the fact was, she already had feelings for Devon. History was all but repeating itself. Anne had been in love with a powerful Murray man who'd crushed her dreams, and if Renee kept seeing Devon she'd be going down the same path of certain disappointment.
Ted came bounding into her room and leapt up onto the bed beside her. He gave her a quizzical look.
"He left, sugar pie. I totally wigged out on him." Like big time. Her heart pinched. "I'll call him in the morning and apologize." She scratched behind his ears and he whimpered. "I have a lot to think about right now."
Devon sat in front of a crackling fire in his study. He nursed a sifter of brandy as he stared into the flames. It was after midnight, but he couldn't sleep. There were so many unanswered questions floating around in his head.
Christ, what a mess.
How was it that he'd seduced the descendent of his ancestor's lover? The more he thought about it, the less sense it seemed to make. What were the odds? When she'd shown up on his porch he hadn't realized their connection, and it seemed she hadn't fully understood it either.
Unsettled, he lifted the sifter to his lips and let the brandy soothe his thoughts.
Maybe he was losing his mind to consider it, but he was starting to wonder if Renee might be right. Fuck, maybe he was channeling a ghost. He just felt as if he had always known Renee.
"No, that's complete bullshit," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
There was a perfectly logical explanation. There always was. And it would come to him sooner or later. He tipped back the rest of the brandy, closed his eyes, and let the fire and liquor lull his overactive mind.
He awoke in the chair some time later. The fire had gone out so the room was dark and cold. He rose from the chair and left the study, pausing briefly at the bottom of the stairs. Then, with a calm certainty, he ascended the stairway and made his way to the attic.
The incessant ringing of her phone was what woke her. She hadn't slept very well, tossing and turning all night long. Worrying about what was going to happen to her grandparents' home and her growing feelings for Devon.
Since the caller hadn't taken the hint when she'd ignored the first few phone calls, she reached over and grabbed her cell.
"Hello?"
"Good morning." His voice was low and sexy like always. "It's Devon."
"No kidding." She yawned and rolled over onto her back. "What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty."
"Ugh." She groaned and then remembered the way they'd parted last. "Hey, I'm sorry about the way I kicked you out the other night."
"It's fine, Renee."
His gentle words only made her feel worse.