Then she pressed her lips to his, and years of repressed emotion that was inside Dev blotted out everything else. I’ve been waiting for you, he thought in amazement. All my life…all along, it was you.
The time for words was past. Dev gentled the kiss, drawing back with regret. He got out, rounded the car and swept Lacey up in his arms.
Once inside, he headed with sure steps to her bedroom, remembering the night that he’d sat outside wondering if she was dreaming of him, knowing she would continue robbing him of sleep until they could settle what was between them.
If it was a battle, Lacey had won without firing a shot. That she’d turned her back on the boy mattered nothing to the man who understood now that life threw you a lot of challenges, but happiness was all about what you made of them.
She’d been so young, so protected. If he had a bone to pick, it was now and forever with Charles DeMille.
As Dev settled Lacey on the pale lavender silk duvet, the last thing he wanted to think about was Lacey’s father.
Her filmy skirt floated down around the legs that haunted his dreams, tucked up to display one pale, smooth thigh. Longing sliced through him, sharp and painful. Her eyes were huge and dark as moonlight silvered across her bed.
Just as they’d been on that night so long ago.
“It should have been you, Dev.” Her voice was throaty and low. “I wanted you to be the first.”
The ache in her eyes undid him.
“Shh,” he whispered, pressing one finger over her lips. “I’m here now.” He placed one knee on the bed beside her, leaning on arms suddenly gone weak.
“Dev?” Her breath wafted warm across his temple as he lowered his head to the pulse in her throat. “You need to know that except for one big mistake, there’s hardly been anyone. I didn’t want—” She cut her gaze away, then back. “None of them were you.”
Dev squeezed his eyes shut. “Lacey, if you want me to last, don’t tell me things like that.”
She clasped his head in her hands and forced him to face her. “I don’t,” she said fiercely. “I want you inside me. Now. I’ve wondered a thousand times how it would have felt—knowing that it was you, Dev—always your touch I should have known first.”
Sweet hell. Dev took her mouth, no holds barred.
Lacey whimpered but answered with a hunger of her own, so powerful he could feel it vibrating her bones. She tore at his shirt, shoving it off his shoulders, then ran her fingers over his chest, nails grazing lightly at his skin.
Dev’s mind arced white with longing. With fingers turned clumsy, he tried to find the opening of her dress while Lacey’s own hands descended to his belt buckle.
“How the hell,” he muttered, “do you undo this damn dress?”
A slight smile ghosted over Lacey’s taut features. “Side—” she gasped, unbuckling his belt and fumbling for the clasp of his slacks. “—zipper.”
Dev grabbed her wrists. Chest heaving, he stared down into desire-drenched eyes. “Lacey, slow down. This is too important.” He settled her hands by her sides. “I don’t want to rush.”
Lacey’s smile was wicked. “We have all night, Dev. We can take it slow next time.”
“No.” We might not have a next time. Then he settled for what he could tell her of the truth right now. “I never expected this.” He glanced away, running one hand through his hair. Then he looked back. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after—”
Her eyes went dark and sad. “I don’t know why you did it, Dev, but it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re here tonight, and that’s enough.”
Dev frowned. “Why I did what?”
“There’s no reason to discuss it. It’s over.”
“What’s over? What is it you think I’ve done?” Unease crawled up his spine.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
“Lacey, I need to know what you mean. Are you referring to that night?” He knew he didn’t have to specify which one.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Daddy told me what you did. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but then you never tried to contact me again, so I knew it must be true.” She looked away from him for a second, then her gaze returned to his. “It hurt so badly, Dev.” She swallowed hard. “But we were young. I don’t need to know why.”
“Tell me what you think I did.” Inside him, suspicion stirred.
“It’s okay. I understand. You were poor. I just wish you’d—” Her voice broke, and tears spilled past her lashes.
The boy inside him ached. “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to write you, but he made me promise. I had to leave the next morning and stay away for good or my family would suffer. They’d already lost too much. I couldn’t bring them more pain.” His jaw clenched so hard he could almost feel teeth crack. “I wanted to—but I couldn’t. And you’d walked away without a backward glance. I didn’t think you’d care.”