Maybe he’d thought wrong.
“A jailbreak calls for a celebration, I think,” Dev said. “And I know just the place to toast a formal un-engagement that never existed in the first place, as long as you like your coffee strong and hot.”
Her head whipped around. “You do?”
Dev nodded. “You’re in good hands. Settle back and enjoy the ride.”
“Dev?”
Here it came. Second thoughts.
“Can we put the top down?”
Surprise made him grin. “Sure, but your hair won’t be the same.” He pulled over in the parking lot of a dry cleaners.
“But that’s like wrinkles, right? Just makes things interesting?” She turned suddenly to study him. “Philip thinks I’m almost ready for an eye job.”
Dev cursed vividly under his breath as he fastened down the top. “Philip is an ass. What did you ever see in him, anyway?”
“It wasn’t me. It was my parents.”
Dev came back and slid into the driver’s seat. He thought about chiding her, but she’d never been any different. Too eager to please a father who didn’t deserve her love.
But he didn’t need to get started thinking about Charles DeMille. Or the past. And anyway, he had to give her credit for making a jailbreak tonight. He started up the car again.
She ran slender fingers through her hair and stretched her arms above her head, turning her head side to side as the wind whipped her and plastered her dress to her curves.
Dev bit back a groan. She looked like a woman in the throes of passion.
This is a bad idea, Dev. Ba-a-ad idea. Take her home.
“So where are we going, Devlin Marlowe?”
“I’ll take you to a place where your friends won’t see you. Somewhere you’d never dream of setting foot inside.”
“I don’t care if my friends see me,” she protested.
Don’t lie to me—or yourself, Lacey. You care.
But he didn’t say that. “You’re gonna weep over Shorty’s donuts.”
Lacey smiled back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Prove it.”
Dev chuckled. “You asked for it, darlin’. Now hang on.” Averting his eyes, he shot the car forward, concentrating on the road ahead of them and trying his damnedest not to think about the woman at his side.
Chapter Six
Dev pulled to a stop in front of the darkened building in a decaying part of Houston. Lacey’s quick glance made him smile as he turned to her. “It’s okay, I promise. It’s just rundown, not dangerous.”
Her chin tilted upward. “I wasn’t—”
Dev grinned. “Yes, you were. I’d bet a hundred bucks you’ve never been near this part of town before.”
In the light from the streetlamp, he could see her shoulders stiffen. “Of course I—” Her voice trailed off. Lacey sighed. “You’re right, I haven’t.”
“Rethinking your jailbreak? I can take you back right now. They might not even realize you’re gone.”
There was enough heat in the look she shot him to melt lead. Dev wanted to applaud, but he was still waiting for her to realize that she didn’t belong here. Not with him. Not anywhere near him.
“I’m not going back,” she countered. “Now do I get my donuts or not?” She peered out of the windshield. “What is this place anyway?”
“Shorty’s place is in back. It’s a deep, dark secret. I probably should have blindfolded you first.” He grinned. “I’d give you the password and secret handshake, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Lacey burst out laughing. Slowly, she drew an X over her heart. “I swear I won’t tell. Besides,” she muttered, “I’m not sure I could find this place again if my life depended upon it.”
Her laughter touched places in him that felt…undiscovered. Untouched. Almost young again.
What the devil was he doing, showing her one of his favorite haunts? She would come to her senses anytime now, realize just how different they were, and demand to be taken back. And Shorty’s would never be the same refuge.
But they were here. If she did—when she did—he’d deal with it. But that was later. This was now. “When you taste Shorty’s donuts, you’ll be forever marked. You’ll be able to find your way back like a homing pigeon. These donuts change you at the cellular level.”
“Hip level, you mean.”
It took a minute for her remark to register. He laughed. “You’re too skinny, anyway. A few extra pounds won’t hurt you.”
For a second, what might have been hurt raced over her features. “If I’m too thin for you, that’s not really my problem, Devlin.”