Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(176)

When Lacey came with a most unladylike scream, Dev was too far gone himself to sit back and relish the moment. Instead, with trembling fingers, he somehow managed to cover himself before Lacey dragged him upward. He wanted to be inside her so badly he thought his heart would explode.

“It was you who taught me what passion was, Dev. Finish the lesson. Make me the woman I should have been long ago.”

Dev kissed her with all the longings that had been bottled up for years. “You’re the one, Lacey,” he whispered. “The only one.” He held her face in his hands in a promise he wanted badly to keep. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

She opened those witchy silver eyes, the pupils huge and dark, and she was so open to him that he felt his heart tear. “Mine,” he vowed. “Then and now.” And with one smooth thrust, he joined them.

They both went still in a hushed, silent moment where past pain was annealed by the present.

Tears slid into Lacey’s hair. “So long,” she whispered. “I’ve waited for you so long, Dev.”

A shiver rippled over her skin. An answering thrill moved over his heart. And then he let the madness take them, desperate to bind her to him, to make up for so many years of being without her. Stars burst behind his eyes and his chest burned with the force of all the words he couldn’t yet say, the memories that pounded his heart.

She should have been mine, was all he could think. All this time, she should have been mine.

His own eyes were damp. He pulled her closer, drove deeper, desperate to remove the barrier of skin, to make them one body. One heart. One soul.

And through his thoughts threaded a prayer. Please. Don’t take her from me again.

Then the stars went nova—and sent them soaring into uncharted space.





Chapter Ten





Dev sped through the streets as dawn pearled the sky. Everything in him wished that he hadn’t checked his voicemail when he’d been unable to sleep, filled with dread. Waiting for Lacey to wake up so he could do what he could no longer put off: tell her about her past.

He wanted to be back in that bed with Lacey, savoring the fire and sweetness between them. Instead, he was on his way to his brother’s after Connor’s urgent message.

This had damn well better be life or death, buddy. His brother, who could sleep through a nuclear blast, who never got up before noon on Saturday, had been awake when he’d returned the call—and agitated. He insisted that Dev come to see him, said he could not discuss the matter on the phone. Dev had left Lacey a note, but he hoped to be back before she woke. He’d wanted to kiss her, but if she awoke when he did…well, he already knew where that would lead.

So sweet and hot, that slender body. So rich and open, that gentle heart. Dev had imagined making love to Lacey a thousand times since that long-ago night, but his imagination had been far too puny. They’d made love all through a magical, star-drenched night. He wanted to stay in that magic forever.

But he still had news to deliver. Dev raked anxious fingers through his hair. The ante had just gone up because now he didn’t kid himself that he’d be able to walk away whole if she despised him for being the messenger.

Too many years had gone by, and all of them a wasteland. After last night, he realized he’d been starving to death. Lost in the desert and parched down to his soul.

Lacey was it. The one. He’d been waiting for her all his life. What he’d told himself for all these years was complete self-deception.

Everything in him longed to turn around and climb back in that bed, pull her into his arms, and hold on tight. But chances were far more likely that she’d never want to speak to him again once he’d done his duty.

He slammed the car to a stop outside Connor’s and emerged, grim and determined. He’d get Connor settled, whatever this was about, then go back to Lacey and try his damnedest not to screw up this miracle that he didn’t deserve—but would fight to keep.

Connor pulled open the door, ushered him inside.

“You look like ten kinds of hell. What’s going on?” Dev asked. “Are you in trouble, Connor?”

“No.” His brother frowned at the insult. “It’s not about me. It’s about Dad.”

“What about him?”

Connor fell silent, his face troubled.

“I came here instead of going back to a bed I didn’t want to leave, bud. Spit it out.”

Connor exhaled sharply. “Dad was framed.”

“What?” But though the words rocked him, Dev knew how much he wanted it to be true. “Innocent,” Dev said grimly. “He was innocent all along.”

“No—not innocent, not from what I can tell here. He cooked the books, there’s no question about that. He kept his working papers.”