Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(150)

She dropped the entire stack of mail on the entry table, not caring what was in it. Maybe if she’d had a decent night’s sleep all week, things would be different.

But she hadn’t. Every time she closed her eyes, Dev was there, lying in wait. She could stay busy during her waking hours, busy enough to shove him away, to forget the fiasco of that picnic.

Of that kiss.

But at night…alone in the darkness, he leapt every barrier. Night had been their time. Under cover of darkness, Dev had shown her a world light-years away from her own. He’d shown her passion…and freedom…and made her question, tempted her to follow him away from the safe life she’d known.

Then he’d abandoned her. Never bothered to see if she was all right after the night she’d flown high in his arms—

And then crashed to earth.

So why, the one time she was back in those strong arms, had she yielded, even for one second? Why had he felt so treacherously right?

Lacey eyed the deep cushions of her sofa. She glanced in the mirror and didn’t like what she saw. Maybe a quick nap would help smooth out the rough edges. Her mother had eyes like heat-seeking missiles. Lacey needed to be sharp and on her toes.

She crossed the room and sank into the sofa’s embrace. It’s daylight, Dev. You have to leave me alone.

In seconds, she slid under, tired to the bone.

It seemed like only seconds later when she struggled to the surface, frowning as she tried to shake the cobwebs and figure out what had pulled her back.

The door. Someone was knocking.

Lacey closed her eyes. Go away.

But whoever it was didn’t give up. Staggering slightly, she made it from the sofa to the door, glancing through the glass and going stiff with shock.

No.

Lacey shook her head and squeezed her eyes. She was still dreaming, surely.

But she opened them again, and there he was.

Lacey drew a deep breath and pressed one hand to her stomach as she struggled for the mask she needed. She opened the door.

“Hello, Dev.” She tried to put in her tone all the detachment she wanted to feel.

From behind his back, he pulled out her basket, his tone light but his green eyes giving more away. “I brought back your basket.”

“I told you I didn’t need it.” Go away. Please. He was devastating in a black T-shirt and black slacks. The T-shirt clung to a very well-developed chest she could still feel against her body.

“I know.” With his free hand, he brushed at the errant lock that had always plagued him, his fingers raking through his raven hair. “I probably should have just shipped it back to you, but—” Emerald eyes pinned hers. “I owe you an apology. I needed to deliver it in person.”

Lacey’s hand went slack on the door handle. She felt like ten miles of bad road and probably looked worse. She needed all her defenses to handle Dev, and sleep still fogged her brain. “I—Dev, it’s been a long week. I don’t—”

“Please, Lacey.” On his too-interesting face, she read real regret. “Let me talk to you for just a minute.”

She glanced down at her wrinkled linen suit, her unshod feet. “Can you give me a minute? I—I’m afraid I fell asleep. I must look dreadful.” She stepped away from the door and gestured him inside.

His piercing eyes studied her. His voice was slightly husky as he spoke. “You look beautiful, as always.” Then his gaze softened, his voice dropping low. “Are you all right?”

She realized she had one hand pressed against her abdomen and instantly yanked it away. “I’m perfectly fine. Just let me—” Turning, she cast over her shoulder, “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

In her bedroom, she shed her suit jacket, then headed for the bathroom and carefully splashed cold water on her face. Patting it dry, she stared at herself in the mirror, taking in the dark shadows beneath her eyes. She applied new lipstick and spritzed on perfume, then cursed herself for caring how she looked.

Good grooming is a woman’s best armor, darling. Margaret DeMille would sooner be drawn and quartered than appear before the eyes of another human without impeccable makeup and perfectly-coifed hair.

The way Lacey looked, Dev would be out there for hours if she were to meet her mother’s goal. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, she headed back to the living room, detouring by the entry table to slip on her heels.

Reaching for composure, she drew in a deep breath, then headed for Dev. “Would you care for something to drink?” She stopped with the coffee table securely between them.

“No, I—” He stopped abruptly, then exhaled. “All right. Sure.”

He was nervous, Lacey marveled. Dev. Seeing it steadied her. “Iced tea, or something stronger?” Wondering at herself for the urge, she gave in and teased. “I might be able to find a good Chardonnay.”