She wanted him again. Now. Dev had unleashed something primal in her. A wanton creature she’d never met.
Lacey stretched her humming, hungry body. She was incredibly proud of herself. She’d been anything but a lady.
Lacey grinned. She’d been an animal last night.
Her mother would be scandalized.
Perfect.
Sunlight warmed her face as she felt the slight ache of muscle, the deep inner heat from greed given, need absorbed.
You slut. Lacey smiled in delight. She’d never once woken up naked in her entire life. Naked and filled with a crackling energy that demanded attention.
She’d seduce him this morning. Take him. Show him a new face of the tigress he’d unleashed.
Ready to see if she could scandalize Dev, too, she rolled over to find him, to place her greedy hands on that hard, beautiful body that sent need swimming through her veins.
Her hand brushed sheets disappointingly cool to the touch. She opened her eyes to find the bed empty beside her.
Dev was gone.
A piece of paper was propped on the bedside table, her name scrawled on the outside in a bold hand.
Two rose petals lay in front of it, scarlet reminders of a night seared forever in her memory. She was smiling when she opened the note.
Lacey—
I’m sorry. I want to be there with you right now, but I have to go help my brother. Damn voicemail.
Her smile widened.
Stay warm. Stay naked. If you can’t stay naked, keep your cellphone on. I’ll find you. Don’t forget where we left off.
Dev
Lacey pressed a kiss to the paper and set it on the table. Picking up the rose petals, she brushed them over her lips, inhaled the last traces of fragrance. Remembered a night that had been a dream. A revelation.
A fantasy they’d been denied for seventeen years.
Thanks to her father.
The morning’s glow faded. How could he have done that? He’d always been very protective of her and yes, finding your daughter writhing naked in the gazebo had to be a shock.
But she’d always been so dutiful until then. Forbidding her would have been enough after that humiliation, much as she hated to admit it. Why lie? Why participate in breaking her heart? It had devastated her, believing that Dev had prized money over her. It had robbed her, stolen deep into her never-strong faith in her judgment. The disaster with Luc had been part and parcel of proving something to herself—and look how that had ended.
But her father had always loved her so fiercely. Surely he wouldn’t have done it if he’d realized what it would take from her. How it would begin the fading of her belief in herself. He loved her. She was his princess.
She had to understand why he had done it. Had to make it clear that he must stay out of this now. Whatever she and Dev could make of this magic, it was theirs. Between them and them alone. Her father might have thought he’d been acting in her best interests.
He’d been wrong. From now on, whatever he thought of Dev, this was her life. Her heart. Her future.
Rising from the bed, she padded toward the bathroom to get ready. Her father never left the house before nine on Saturdays. While Dev was gone, she would make a quick trip over there. Get answers, make her stand clear.
No more interference. It was time he remembered that she was a grown woman.
And time she acted like one.
“This had better be important, Devlin.” Charles DeMille looked as arrogant as ever, spoke to him as before, man to boy. “Is this about Lacey? I thought you must be behind the break-up. You leave her alone.”
But Dev wasn’t a boy anymore. He faced his enemy with the assurance that he’d mastered everything life had thrown at him. Everything this man had started rolling.
To keep the upper hand, Dev remained silent, looking around him. He had never been allowed inside this house, but it looked very much as he would have expected. The library’s rich, dark paneling was almost a cliché, reeking of money and sacrificed forests. The scent of forbidden Cuban cigars hovered in the air.
Finally, he spoke. “Lacey is not the issue right now.”
“You stay away from my daughter. I told you once before, but you never listened, did you, Devlin?”
“Oh, I heard what you said.” Every word came from between clenched teeth. Dev wanted to take this man’s smug superiority and ram it down his throat. I came from your daughter’s bed, he wanted to say, just to wipe that smugness off DeMille’s face—but he didn’t. It wasn’t fair to Lacey.
“I haven’t forgotten anything you’ve said—or done.” Dev cocked an eyebrow and let silence spin out for a moment longer. Few people could stand silence; most would rush to fill it.
“Do you know what time it is?” DeMille demanded.