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…Alyssa jumped up, anger and frustration propelling her to face him head-on. The power of his presence nearly overwhelmed her, even if he did look pale and drawn. It was more than the tall, muscled, disciplined body. She sensed a restraint in him that he was struggling to maintain. He possessed a dangerous edge. Not directed at her, perhaps. But instincts told her this potent man would be a deadly foe when riled. Controlled violence radiated from every pore. He’d learned his lessons well in the venomous turmoil of the prison yard. It made him all the more exciting. “This is your safety we’re talking about,” he snarled. “Your future!” “And your life!” she snapped back. “You are the most galling woman.” “And you’re—” He pulled her to him, crushing his lips onto hers. Alyssa clung to him, melted into him, her lips quivering and compliant…
ALSO BY DELPHYNE DEROUGE Blood Fire Blood Orgy Blood Rapture Blood Songs Call To Loving Arms The Fire Inside Seduction Of Fire Shadow Fire The Women Of Maison D’Estelle: Lacie The Women Of Maison D’Estelle: Mollie The Women Of Maison D’Estelle: Selia
With Rena Allcott Sweet Suite 302
SWEET JUSTICE BY DELPHYNE DEROUGE
AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com
SWEET JUSTICE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2005 by Delphyne DeRouge ISBN 1-59279-351-7 Cover Art © 2005 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To my Amber Quill Press family. Your polished professionalism, talent, and creativity have raised the standard of today’s small press. I am blessed to work with you.
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CHAPTER 1
Alyssa White fumbled with the switch on her crystal desk lamp, her trembling fingers refusing to cooperate. On the third try, soft golden light bathed her Chicago law office. Her frantic gaze swept over the legal tomes lining the walls, maroon silk-upholstered wing chairs and Chippendale office suite, and landed on the newspaper article vibrating in one shaky hand. There, her focus lodged as she sank into a leather chair behind her mahogany desk. He’d aged, of course. Otherwise the fiery visage of Devlin McGraw radiating from the article’s photograph hadn’t changed in ten years. It still possessed the power to laser into her gut and keep going…all the way to her core. God, I’ve never stopped wanting him. She settled the newspaper clipping on her suede desk blotter and read the article for the sixth time, thankful the late hour ensured the law offices would be devoid of coworkers. The article proved to be no more believable now than it had been the first time she’d scanned it. Her high 1
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school sweetheart, her first and only love, had just escaped from a maximum security United States prison. Alyssa buried her fingers in tangled auburn curls as her mind drifted back to the packed courtroom, just days after high school graduation. When her heart broke as a crazed Devlin shouted his innocence as he was dragged away in shackles. Devlin’s widowed mother had screamed in agony at the sight of her only child being treated in such a brutal manner, and Alyssa remembered holding the trembling women in her arms in a vain attempt to ease her pain. Their pain. But Devlin, his mother, and Alyssa hadn’t been the only traumatized souls that fateful day. Alyssa’s father, a famous—some would say, infamous—criminal lawyer, had never forgiven himself for being unable to save the youth. And while it was obvious to the most casual observer that young McGraw was innocent, all the seasoned maneuvers and savvy experience of Justin White couldn’t overcome the District Attorney’s solid wall of corruption and pay-offs. Justin had mounted appeal after appeal. All had failed. No one would be able to win Devlin’s release without new evidence and a new DA. Alyssa remembered how many Chicagoans believed the grievous case had driven Justin White into an early grave after a series of heart attacks. And all the while, Devlin’s life funneled down the sewer of incarceration within the vile walls of the Federal penitentiary at Marion, Illinois. Alyssa sighed and ran a fingertip across the familiar, rugged facial features encased by the grainy photograph. She hadn’t seen Devlin since his sentence had been announced. He’d refused to meet with her when she tried to visit him in prison. A terse note had ordered her to get on with her life and not waste any time on him. She ignored the cold words, at first. But after numerous attempts to see him had failed, after hundreds of letters had gone unanswered and phone calls refused, she’d gotten the message and concentrated on 2
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college, law school, and a burgeoning career. Devlin had given her no choice. After her father’s death a year ago, she’d tried to pick up the McGraw case where the elder White had left off. Devlin had turned down her offer of assistance. Through all the years, he’d always owned a corner of her heart. Now, studying his savage countenance, Alyssa succumbed to the flood of emotions that had threatened to overwhelm her every minute of every day for the last ten years. My dear, sweet Devlin. *
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A furtive figure darted through the shadowy yard. Ruthless moonlight stabbed the air, its impersonal white glare revealing movement that begged for concealment. Harsh gasps shattered the pastoral peace of the Chicago suburb, and spotless Victorians and towering elms lorded over the action as if too aristocratic to be bothered with such indecorous behavior. Curses hissed over fingers trembling, despite an iron will demanding calm. A time-scarred wood frame resisted the pressure for seconds extending into forever. Finally, the window yielded with a protesting screech. The figure dissolved into basement gloom. *
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Sleep toyed with Alyssa’s exhausted entreaties as it had on so many nights over the last ten years. Her thoughts kept intruding, filled with the magnificent shape of Devlin. And with the thoughts came the yearning, teasing her peace of mind, gloating over her sexual frustration and unrequited love. Her skin radiated hot need. Her slit begged to be filled. Her body screamed for release. True, eye-popping, gut-twisting, vagina-clenching release. 3
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After thrashing amid glossy cotton sheets for an eternity of vexation filled with unspent passion, Alyssa flung herself out of bed. She stomped to the sea-green-and-lapis-blue bathroom and turned on the water tap. Soon a warm spray filled the marble-lined shower stall. Shedding her silky pajamas, she succumbed to the tropical moisture. Alyssa bound her extravagant auburn mane in a hair band and slouched against the cyan-colored walls as sheets of soothing water caressed her skin. Grabbing a bottle of white musk shower gel, she squeezed the rich liquid onto her palms and worked up a luxurious lather. Foamy hands ran the length of her lean form. She’d spent her youth as the quintessential tomboy, with a body to match. The gangly figure had matured into a runner’s physique—slender with lithesome legs and arms, square shoulders, tiny waist, saucy breasts. The sweet weight of her firm globes, now coated in lotion, nestled in her hands as she coaxed already-erect nipples to almost bursting. Lubricious fingers tweaked the buds. A responding catch in her gut fired Alyssa’s desire. Forcing more gel onto slippery hands, she worked them down her stomach, leaving a divine foamy path in their wake. She opened her legs and rubbed the perfumed cream onto her inner thighs, slowly making her way to the throbbing tissue that demanded her attention. Alyssa brushed her clit with a slick finger. Need coursed through her body. Gentle strokes began to woo her button. It quivered in response, and deep in her stomach, Alyssa felt the first waves of climax. Her other hand played with her slit. Two fingers swept through the fiery glaze of her arousal and probed inside her. So ready she was. For Devlin. For his thick cock. His muscled arms would frame her head as he rose above her, stabbing to her core. Herculean strokes would split her open and she would revel in their potency. Seizing a vibrator off the stall shelf, she flicked it on. She brought 4
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its humming power toward her clit, stopping just before it touched her aching bud as memories of Devlin filled her. He was bigger than this stimulating instrument. She remembered his blue-veined magnificence, how she once had feared she’d never be able to handle all of him. A throaty whirring swept through the steamy air as she brought the device within an inch of her clamoring flesh. She could almost feel the air swirl from its buzzing head. How she wanted this cylinder to be made of Devlin’s satiny steel. How she wanted his macho need to be controlling its thrusts. Her burgeoning orgasm waited, suspended in a vacuum of fantasy and anticipation. Alyssa controlled it like a maestro. She brought the bucking tip to her clit, barely making contact. The gentle rhythmic wave echoed in her gut. Fire pricks of arousal stabbed her. The climax drew closer and closer. So close… She plunged the vibrating stick inside as the riptide forced her under its spell. Fierce thrusts prolonged the rich sensation as her vaginal walls suctioned the device in pulsing ultimatums. One hand clamped her clitoris, exciting it, soothing it. Exciting it. Alyssa gasped in the fog-filled space, sliding down the wall until she sat on the marble floor, legs spread, dildo buried as orgasm shuddered inside her. She lost track of time as she huddled in the charged moisture. Vaguely, she remembered raising her knees and spreading herself wide as she continued to play with the vibrator, its sides drenched from her essence and perfumed soap. A series of climaxes sizzled through the steam, leaving Alyssa weak. And hungering…
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CHAPTER 2
In the dead of night, Alyssa pulled her Acura TSX into the driveway alongside a sprawling Victorian in the Chicago suburb of Evanston. Bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, she once again questioned the whim that had demanded she leave the sexual electricity of her shower and beckoning warmth of her bed, to head for her childhood home. Uninhabited since she’d inherited it after her father’s death, the house had endured an uncertain fate. Alyssa fantasized about rehabbing it and making it her own. But she’d grown attached to the Lincoln Park townhouse she’d bought recently. Still, the old house was proving to be an amazing investment as its neighbors were rehabbed one by one and property values soared in the neighborhood a few blocks from Lake Michigan. And then there were the memories. Every corner of the house overflowed with them. And not just Alyssa’s childhood recollections. 6
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Images of Devlin, of their high school romance, oozed from every spot. Which is why Alyssa found herself getting out of the car and shuffling through last fall’s leaves to let herself into the looming cream-andburgundy painted lady. She needed to be close to Devlin, especially after reading the newspaper article earlier that evening. If she couldn’t see him in the flesh, wandering the deserted rooms of the old house— many of which looked just as they had throughout her youth—was the next best thing. The key protested its turn in the lock. Alyssa smiled as she kicked the brass plate at the bottom of the door and the mechanism released. Some things never changed. The ritual of passing through a temperamental portal was one of those things. Stale, searing air blasted her face. The place was stifling in the July heat. Frowning, Alyssa began pulling back draperies and raising windows despite short-tempered sash cords. An east breeze off the lake immediately cooled the interior. Wandering among sheet-swathed furniture, Alyssa found herself standing in the doorway of the room—the “ladies’ sitting room,” as Justin White had called it. The past streamed from the tiny spot at the back of the first floor. It was exactly as it had been when a smitten teenage couple had succumbed to their passion in its cozy warmth and made love for the first time. And many times after that. Tears filled Alyssa’s eyes and she swiped at them with an angry curse. Damn! You’d think I was still that lovesick kid. Get a grip. She flicked on a table lamp and yanked a sheet off the couch. For long moments she stared at the yellow chintz-covered furniture. Just the same as the many nights when she and Devlin had— Remembrance seized her. She could feel the tensile strength of his hands caressing her, his arms surrounding her, his lips inflaming her. His endearing words of love and passion arousing her, his rock-hard member entering her… 7
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She ran a hand across the couch arm, the slick cotton caressing her feverish fingers. Roaming across the room, Alyssa grabbed a dusty sheet and pulled it from a corner armchair. A smile flickered on her lips as she spied the snagged golden chenille on the seat cushion—the scar from a spirited pillow fight. In her mind’s eye, she could see Devlin’s periwinkle eyes dance with mock fury as he fought off her chintz attack with the cushion. His deep laugh dancing around her, she’d pursued the offensive, her ring catching on the chenille as she pressed her advantage. Her victory prize had been a soul-drenched kiss and the next hour wrapped in Devlin’s arms, making love on the floor. Tears returned to her eyes as she spied a clay ashtray sitting on a nearby bookshelf. Her breath hitched as she grabbed the prized product of an 8th grade pottery class Devlin had proudly bestowed upon her father. She brought it to her lips and kissed its rough side, then cradled it against her breast, as if energy Devlin’s fingers had bestowed upon the clay still resonated in the object and could find its way to her heart. She closed her eyes against her anguish, trying to focus on the jubilance of bygone days. Slowly, she opened her eyes and allowed her gaze to sweep up the wall to the oak-framed mirror hanging above the bookcase. She stared back at her own frowning mouth and green eyes clouded with tears. Such sadness, so obvious. Alyssa hadn’t realized how clearly she wore her emotions on the surface. Movement in the glass drew her attention and she shifted focus. Electric blue eyes flashed back at her. In a dreamlike trance, she took in the details of a face similar to beloved features she remembered from high school. And yet, far different. A chiseled edge engraved once-sensuous lips, stormy eyebrows surged across a careworn forehead, a broken nose jutted from a face much too lean to belong to Devlin. Devlin. 8
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Devlin? How long they stared at each other in the glass, Alyssa never knew. An eternity unfolded between them, marked by frozen seconds and gossamer memories. An ageless connection cradled them in merciful limbo. Faded passion gathered fuel. Alyssa’s lungs shrieked a warning, and she realized she’d stopped breathing. Her gasp shattered the moment. “Hello, Lyssie.” The whisper spooled through the balmy night, as loud as an earsplitting scream. She spun on numbed feet, the ashtray dropping from nerveless fingers, and drank in the sight of him. Or was it his wraith standing before her? Some cruel manifestation of her desperate longing? Her gaze staggered across his form. Heavily muscled arms merged with disciplined bulk that struggled against the confines of a black Tshirt and begged her to imagine defined pecs on the other side of the cotton. A trim waist had supplanted adolescent sinew. Alyssa’s stare hugged each substantial thigh constrained by tight jeans, before shifting to the bulge at his crotch. Had it been that large ten years ago? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. This hard-edged, gorgeous male could not be real. This moment could not be real. “You haven’t changed a bit.” Another whisper pushed through thick air. Is this apparition speaking to me? Talking about me? Stygian barbs speared the vision in front of her, and grew larger until they had all but obscured him. As the floor rushed up to greet her, a vise grip propelled her onto the couch. “Put your head down. Inhale slowly and deeply,” the apparition advised. She obeyed without question. 9
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Not real. None of this is real. “You shouldn’t be here,” the ghost muttered. “This is all wrong.” Do ghosts speak with human voices? “Lyssie, are you going to be all right?” Lyssie. Only one person ever called her that. Only one. She raised her head and looked into the concerned face of Devlin McGraw as he knelt next to her. Her trembling hand grabbed his arm. Steel muscles warmed to her touch. No, this wasn’t the arm of the Devlin she’d known. That arm had been slender, and ribbed with stringy tendons, not branded with the mark of a prison workout room. She absorbd the scent of him. Memory funneled through her fog as she processed the musky aroma. It was Devlin’s stamp, the essence of him intact after ten years. Dear God, it’s really him. “Honey, say something. You almost fainted.” Devlin’s voice, yet not. His once-gentle tones she’d so adored now rasped with a harsh undercurrent, the echo of Marion Penitentiary. “Are—what—?” She gave up trying to form a coherent sentence. Devlin spoke as if to himself, capturing her roaming hand in his. “Still so beautiful. So very beautiful.” The physical contact was almost her undoing. How well she remembered his hands. And while the flesh was rougher and more callused than that of a younger Devlin, the touch was the same. Blades of sexual heat fired her core. He was real, no doubt about it. Devlin released her, leaving a bottomless void in his wake. She struggled not to grab that hand and return it to her grasp, so unwilling was she to survive for one more minute without a tactile link to him. He lunged to his feet. “This place is just the same.” Athletic legs carried him across the room, where he paused in the corner before a hulking oak case containing an antique radio. Twitchy 10
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fingers spun the control dials. “We used to think this thing was really stupid. Remember? And your father was so proud of it. Claimed it had better sound than any speaker Bose could produce.” Each word shot from his mouth like a misfired bullet. Alyssa found herself shifting on the couch, as if seeking to avoid the onslaught. A crippled chuckle twisted into a groaning sigh as he stared at the framed portrait of a five-year-old Alyssa hanging on the wall above the radio. “And this picture—I saw this just about every day of my youth.” Devlin about-faced toward her. “Yet I never took the time to really look at it.” He returned to her side, snatching the ashtray from the floor. “And here’s my crowning achievement in junior high.” Devlin’s caustic snicker seemed to scorch the smothering air in the tiny room. “That first Father’s Day after Dad died was really tough for me. I’ll never forget the emptiness of not having him around to give it to.” His tones were sad, now. Reflective. “Well, you know.” Alyssa managed to nod. “And your dad was so great. He accepted this as if it was the most precious art object in the world.” Devlin returned it to the bookshelf. “I’ve never forgotten his kindness.” Alyssa’s second nod felt more emphatic than the previous gesture. “There were times—in there—” Devlin paused as if overwhelmed by malignities Alyssa couldn’t begin to understand. “—when memories like that seemed like fantasies. And yet, they kept me going.” She wanted to soothe him, to take him in her arms and cradle him until the end of time. Her frozen body refused the impulse. At least say something, damn it! Talk to him. “Dad—” Inwardly wincing at the sound of her broken voice, Alyssa summoned her will and burst through the shocked shell imprisoning her. “Dad…really did treasure the ash tray, Devlin.” There now, that wasn’t so bad. Keep talking, for Christ’s sake. “I…I thought about 11
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taking it home with me.” Her voice grew stronger. “But it…seemed to belong…in that spot.” Winded, she paused and forced herself to take in some air before she looked up at him. “Devlin, how—?” “I’m glad you kept it here. You’re right, it belongs.” He shook his head at her. “Who would have thought back then—?” An expressive sigh overflowed with his torment. “What an…unholy mess this is. Isn’t it, Lyssie?” Devlin looked at her, then averted his haunted eyes. “But…you’ve done well for yourself.” His focus lurched toward her once more, until he again met her gaze. “I’m proud of you.” “Devlin, how did…” Come on, Alyssa. Get the question out there. “How did you escape?” He ran a hand over thick black hair cropped close to his head. His beautiful, curly hair. All gone. Yet another stain of prison smeared her heart. His eyes, now cerulean, swept over her. Even they had changed. While they still smoldered with lust as they looked at her, desperation and hints of fury rimmed their expression. “I won’t tell you how I got out of there. Can’t. Don’t you see?” His eyes slinked away from hers. “Even if I wanted to…you being an officer of the court and all.” She stared through the stifling air at the muscle-bound hunk who bore only a dim resemblance to the teenager she’d loved. “You should have never come here,” he whispered into the sultry air. “I…couldn’t sleep.” Alyssa looked away from her living phantom. “I’d read the newspaper accounts about your…your escape.” She took a long, shivery breath. “I wanted to be close to…to…” “To what we once had here?” She nodded one more time, grateful he’d saved her from uttering the painful words. “We were great together, weren’t we?” His words were so soft she 12
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almost missed them. Her throat constricted around the growing hurt his question inflicted. She couldn’t respond. “Remember—?” After a long pause, she whispered through her tears, “I remember it all.” For a moment, Alyssa thought he was going to take her into his arms, but he didn’t move. Instead, he stood stiffly before her, as if at attention, and Alyssa had a flash of prison roll call, of Devlin lost in a long line of miserable humanity. “How did you get in here?” He shrugged. “No one ever repaired that basement window. I took a chance and it paid off.” “Somehow, it just didn’t seem right to fix it. Neither Dad nor I ever got around to it.” Melancholy wreathed Devlin’s smile. “For which I thank you.” “After all, it was your private entrance. Back then.” “The magical ‘back then.’” Devlin sighed. “I remember every little detail of ‘back then.’ Each night, I lay in the bunk and lived us over and over again. Climbing through that window, creeping into your bed—” Long-dormant memories stoked with the anguish of ten lost years stalked across Alyssa’s heart. In her mind’s eye, Devlin’s electric blues once again twinkled at her from the darkness as he slipped between the sheets next to her. His gentle hand covered her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle her delighted giggles. His lips once again nuzzled her ear as he murmured, “Sh-sh. Quiet, love, or you’ll wake your dad.” “But, why here, Dev?” Alyssa asked him now. “Out of all the places in the world, why did you come here?” He dropped onto the edge of the couch. “I swear to God, I never would have if I’d known I’d run into you. I—had to leave suddenly. Today. You might say my life depended upon it.” Devlin cradled his head in his hands. “I had no real plan once I got out of Marion. And the 13
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one thing I kept thinking about was…this place. It seemed like an oasis in the middle of a desert.” He looked up at her. “Looks like we both headed here for similar reasons.” “I couldn’t stay away.” “We always shared thoughts.” Was that what pulled me to this place, on this night? A knowing shared with him? “It’s as if we were meant to…to come together, isn’t it?” Tortured eyes met hers. “Fate’s cruel trick, it would appear. The irony is, I thought it would be safe for me in this house. At least for a short time. If I’d really known you were going to show up, I’d have gone somewhere else. I—I wouldn’t put you at risk for the world.” She absorbed the jolt of passion and lost love lurching from him. “How did you know no one was living here?” A wry smile crossed his harsh features. “Research. I’ve kept up on you, Lyssie.” “Really? I’d have never known.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. The anguish of having her phone calls rejected by him, the piles of returned letters littering her bedroom, his refusal to meet with her, swept over her like a refuse-laden tidal wave. Piercing cobalt drilled into her, then Devlin’s focus sank to the floral carpet. When he spoke, his voice was so soft, Alyssa struggled to discern the words. “I had no choice. I had to cut you loose.” “I never even heard your voice—for ten long years.” Acridity seared her words. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you were protecting me.” “Yes, damn it.” He catapulted off the couch, but not before Alyssa saw him wince and press his abdomen as he began pacing the room in agitated strides. “Do you think I wanted you anywhere near that hellhole?” “I visit prisons all the time, Devlin. I’m a criminal lawyer, for 14
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God’s sake.” “Not the same thing.” “Of course not. Your pride isn’t involved with the others,” Alyssa snapped before starting in surprise. She hadn’t realized, until that moment, how resentful she’d been at him for cutting her out of his life. He turned to her, a frozen expression on his face. They stared at each other in a charged moment, binding them in its fury. “I’m sorry, Devlin,” Alyssa’s said, her voice an echo of its former ferocity. “That was unkind.” “And true.” He strode to her and reached out as if he intended to stroke her face. “God help me, it really is good to see you again.” She waited for his touch. He stopped abruptly. Energy from his closeness razored through her. How she had longed for his caress in the dead of night. Every night. Her stomach twisted in arousal at the thought. Alyssa watched his deft blue eyes sweep over her, appreciation radiating from them. Her gut constricted still more. How would it feel to have those muscled arms hold her? To sustain the weight of his rockhard body as he loomed over her, his magnificent penis thrusting deep into her again and again? He turned on his heels and stomped across the room into the shadows, his voice maundering from the gloom. “I thought my life was over, Alyssa. When the cell door closed on me in Marion, I resolved to leave my past behind. Everything in my past. Most especially you.” “I could have supported you, loved you.” “It was more than my pride, Lyssie. Though that certainly affected my decision. I thought I was doing the right thing.” He took a shaky breath. Furious tears crowded the corners of her eyes. “And now?” “Now, I am going to do the right thing.” 15
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God, I think I’m afraid to hear this. In spite of herself, Alyssa whispered, “What?” “I’m going to get the hell out of here.” “Running away from me again, Devlin?” She almost regretted her words as she watched longing and regret fill his eyes. “I have no intention of getting you involved in my mess,” he hissed. “Looks like you’ve brought it into my house.” “I tell you, if I’d known you were here, I’d have never—” He sank onto the couch again. “You go first. I don’t want you to see what direction I take. In case—” No! I can’t let him go, again. I couldn’t bear it. “Let me help you.” “No way.” “Look, Dev, you’ve already involved me. Whether you meant to or not.” He covered his eyes with a hand. Alyssa frowned as she watched that hand tremble just a bit. What’s wrong with him? Is he sick? “Damn! Look, if I leave now—” “At least stay the night. Get a good night’s sleep.” Alyssa glanced at her watch. 2:30. “What’s left of the night.” “I’m too wired to sleep.” “Okay, then talk to me.” He shook his head. “I have to leave you.” Desperation threatened to choke Alyssa. Suddenly, it seemed like the most important thing in the world to keep this man with her. For one night. After enduring a decade’s worth of loneliness, she deserved this moment with him. “Please stay.” All her yearning, need, angst, filled those two words. He dropped his hand and seemed to hesitate. Alyssa honed in on the crack in his armor. “Talk to me.” He sat very still for a long moment, and Alyssa knew he was fighting with himself. Should he give in or leave? Give in! Damn it, 16
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Devlin. “God! I’m so sick of going this alone.” He dropped his head in his hands. “So sick and tired of it. Perhaps, for just this night—” She left the couch to kneel next to him. A tentative hand touched his knee. Oxygen sucked into the black hole created by that contact. Rivers of heat streamed from the point and fanned throughout her body. Her gut churned with excitement. Touch me back. Everywhere. Sweep me into your arms and lay me across this couch. Fuck me until we both pass out. Alyssa managed to say, “I’ve always been there for you, Dev. But you wouldn’t let me in. Do it this one time. Let me in now.” “I know how to get the evidence that’ll clear my name.” “Excuse me?” He looked up and nodded. “There was a witness that night old Bianco was shot.” “How do you know? I mean, after all these years, how did you—” A grimace creased the rugged features of Devlin’s face. “Long story.” “And with our new DA—you remember Hamlin Perry from Dad’s old law firm—you’d stand a chance of the office considering it—” “Exactly. I remember Perry when it all went down. He was one of the few who believed me.” “He did, Devlin. And he’s remained a good friend to me.” Alyssa swallowed. “You’re still in a terrible fix, though. Every cop from Chicago to St. Louis is hunting for you. And it’s not limited to this State. You’re certainly in no position—” “It’s my one shot, Lyssie. I have to go for it.” “Of course. Of course, you do. You’re…sure this evidence will help you?” “I believe the guy who’s in possession of it. He has no reason to lie to me. He owes me, Lyssie.” 17
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“Owes you what?” “The life of someone close to him.” She shook her head in impatience. “Come on, Dev. Spill.” “You could be disbarred…arrested for harboring a fugitive—” “Spill.” “I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.” “You were saying?” “You’ll never even know I was here.” Alyssa smiled in spite of the harrowing situation. “Somehow, I doubt that. Now, tell me.” Devlin ran an agitated hand across his face, then slouched into the soft sofa cushions and rested his head against the back of the furniture, closing his eyes. He looks so tired. Alyssa sat next to him. “You ever hear of Stefano Gilbert?” he asked in a soft voice. The name send alarm ratcheting through Alyssa’s weariness and she could see the mob boss in her mind’s eye. “Yes. I have, actually.” He rolled his head toward her, a frown scrolling across his face. “You know him, don’t you? How? What happened?” “Long story.” “Go on.” “It was a few months ago, right after he took over the reins of the organization after the death of Jake Testa, his predecessor. I defended a young man who was set up for a fall by Gilbert’s younger son, Neal. Actually had a chance to prove my client’s innocence with solid evidence until Gilbert got involved. The evidence conveniently disappeared, thanks to him.” She shrugged. “Lost the case as a result. But not before I had a few choice encounters with the elder Mr. Gilbert.” “What kind of encounters?” “I’m betting you can guess. I was not pleased with his interference. 18
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And while I’m by no means naive when it comes to the long reach of his organization, I still felt the need to…express myself.” “Oh, God,” Devlin groaned, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I can just imagine how that went down.” “Actually better than you might imagine. Bastard blatantly admitted his interference, and just as openly acknowledged there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. At least he didn’t gloat. In fact, he told me he owed me one. And he claimed to have appreciated my…what was the word he used?…spunk.” Alyssa smiled. “Trust me. No one had ever called my spunky before. Or since. Made me feel like I was in the middle of an old Mary Tyler Moore show.” She paused. “Actually, the ugly encounter occurred with Neal.” “What happened?” “Remember the young man I just mentioned? The one I was defending? He belonged to Neal’s little band of delinquents.” “Little band of delinquents?” “My name for them. They were into petty stuff. Shakedowns, car thefts…they ran a fairly elaborate chop shop operation for a time. My client was one of the poor kids Neal recruited with promises of fast money. Benny was in a stolen car one night. Neal was driving…and driving like a maniac. They realized a police car noticed them. It was cruising the opposite side of the divided highway they were on. By the time the cop turned around and had gotten back to them, the two had ditched the car and taken off on foot, but not before Neal threatened Benny into silence if they were apprehended.” She sighed. “Anyway, Neal got away clean, and Benny was caught.” “I’ve heard Neal is a punk,” Devlin muttered. “So, let me guess. You found evidence proving Neal had stolen the car, and Benny was innocent. Stefano made sure the evidence was destroyed, and Benny was sent up. Sounds all too familiar.” “That’s the size of it. Neal has never forgotten that I had the power 19
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to put him away. And he’s never forgiven me for forcing the situation so his father had to get involved. Seems that old man Gilbert always considered him a screw-up. I just gave Stefano more evidence to that effect. Neal showed up at my townhouse after it was all over. He’d been drinking, got ugly, threatening. It wasn’t pretty.” “Alyssa!” “It turned out all right. A neighbor and good friend of mine had seen him enter. Didn’t like the looks of him and stayed close. When he heard yelling, he used his key to enter without Neal noticing him and escorted the young man out after a bit of encouragement. And that was that. No harm done.” Alyssa paused, then asked the question blazing in her mind. “Dev, is Stefano Gilbert your witness?” “Yes he is, Alyssa.” “And you said he owes you, too? For the life of his son? You saved Neal’s life? But why hasn’t he come forward before now? To help you? Why do you have to go after him?” She stopped abruptly. “Sorry. I’ll shut up now.” Devlin’s smile had turned sad “You always were one to ask away, weren’t you? First, I didn’t save Neal’s life. I saved Gilbert’s other son, Leo.” “Of course, the older boy. In Marion.” Devlin nodded. “Leo had a knack for making enemies in there. Even with mob influence, he became the target of a gang—the Sombra. One day in the yard, I stepped in front of one of their knives for him.” “Sombra? Oh, Dev. They’re an ugly bunch. Are you…were you…” “All healed from that encounter. I wasn’t hurt badly. And I earned Gilbert’s gratitude.” “So in return for saving his son—” “He told me he could save me. That he’d been in that pizza joint the night Bianco was shot and saw what went down.” 20
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Alyssa’s mind whirled back ten years, returning to the shop where Devlin had found much-needed employment after school. Crouched on the edge of an industrial district in Evanston, Bianco’s Pizza had been a depressing place. But no one could argue with the quality of its food, and it boasted brisk business. Keith Bianco had never earned the affection of his clientele. A dour man, he was lucky his culinary talents provided him a living. While Bianco was notorious for making the lives of his workers miserable, a special place of resentment seemed to have been reserved for Devlin. Alyssa and her friends—including Devlin, himself—could never figure out the source of the animosity the older man expressed toward Dev. She remembered the night Devlin had quit. He and Bianco had gotten into a loud argument, in the middle of the shop, at the height of the dinner rush. Devlin had had enough of Bianco’s unfair treatment, and even though the young man had desperately needed the job, he’d quit on the spot. Then stormed out of the joint. Because he still had a key to the premises, he was able to return long after closing to retrieve personal belongings he’d left behind. Only to find a dead Bianco in the storeroom. In shock and not thinking clearly, Devlin had picked up the gun lying next to the body. Just as police—responding to a 911 call—had entered. Devlin’s fate was sealed. And though it was obvious to the most casual observer that Devlin was taking the fall for the true killer, he’d been convicted and sent to prison in record time. Anger coiled in Alyssa. “I’m sorry, but I can’t get past the fact that Gilbert could have spoken up ten years ago. Or any time after that to save you.” “Honey, I hear you. And don’t think I’m not going to find out why he kept silent. But first things first. I need to get his help now.” 21
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“So why didn’t he follow through with his promise, do you think? He may be syndicate slime, but Gilbert has an ethical code of conduct he follows religiously. And one of his unshakable principles is to keep a promise. Especially when it involves a family member. When you saved his son’s life, you made a new friend for your life.” “I suspect it has to do with Leo’s death.” Alyssa shook her head. “Wait a minute. You just told me you’d saved Leo’s life.” “I saved it from the first attempt. But the Sombra went after him again, a few weeks ago. And I wasn’t around that time.” “So…Gilbert’s in mourning for him. Perhaps that’s the reason for his silence,” Alyssa said, uncertainty obvious in her words. Devlin sighed and stifled a yawn at the same time. “That occurred to me. If so, his grieving period has officially ended.” Alyssa hesitated, then asked the question demanding voice. “Dev, you could have pursued this from within prison walls. Granted, a faceto-face audience with old Stefano would be more effective in pressing your point, but there’s more to your prison escape than just a desire to see Gilbert. Isn’t there? You said you had to leave suddenly, that your life depended on it—” He turned toward her on the couch. “Yes, Alyssa.” His quiet tone was a wintry chill clutching at her heart. “I didn’t do myself any favors when I saved Leo. Sombra members came after me a few days ago.” He shrugged. “It was only a matter of time before they would have killed me. I decided I had enough reason to risk the prison break.” His piercing indigo eyes demanded she look into them. “And that’s all you need to know about it. At least until I’m a free man. Right?” Alyssa didn’t respond, her mind still spinning with a million questions. “Right?” “Right,” she said with reluctance. 22
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“So…I plan to get to Gilbert as soon as possible. Obviously, I don’t have much time.” Devlin shook his head, then studied her for a long moment. She saw lust flame in eyes now steel blue. He reached out and swept his fingers across her cheek. “What a damned mess, eh, Lyssie?” His voice was now a rough caress, like a finger swiping across her clit. Moisture coated the inside of her thighs and she could do no more than nod. He gave her the lopsided smile that had stolen her heart the first time she’d seen it in sixth grade. Their eyes met and locked. Currents of recollections drifted between them—of exploration and celebration of young flesh; of sweat-soaked bodies buffeted by lake breezes, joining in fiery passion; of fierce orgasms and tear-stained pronouncements pledging eternal love. Alyssa’s heart started its tap-dance again. She could almost feel his lips tracing feathery trails across her breasts and down her abdomen until they suctioned sensitive flesh between her legs, her heated tissue… She squelched her fantasies. “I’ll go to Gilbert for you.” The calm words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. With a start, she realized she meant every one of them. “No!” “Absolutely. He owes me. He likes me. He’ll listen to me.” Devlin sprang to his feet and loomed over her, his breathing ragged. “You will not go near him. You hear me?” “Dev, I really think I should be the one to talk to—” “No, Lyssie.” Steely resolve consumed his hooded eyes as he snapped, “I won’t allow it.” “The hell you won’t!” Alyssa jumped up, anger and frustration propelling her to face him head-on. The power of his presence nearly overwhelmed her, even if he 23
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did look pale and drawn. It was more than the tall, muscled, disciplined body. She sensed a restraint in him that he struggled to maintain. He possessed a dangerous edge. Not directed at her, perhaps. But instincts told her this potent man would be a deadly foe when riled. Controlled violence radiated from every pore. He’d learned his lessons well in the venomous turmoil of the prison yard. It made him all the more exciting to her. “This is your safety we’re talking about,” he snarled. “Your future!” “And your life!” she snapped back. “You are the most galling woman.” “And you’re—” He pulled her to him, crushing his lips onto hers. Alyssa clung to him, melted into him, her lips quivering and compliant. Devlin recoiled and pulled away. “I’m sorry.” She brushed her fingers across his lips. “Why are you sorry?” “I shouldn’t have done that. This—this—isn’t the time. The place.” “Why? We’re consenting adults. It’s not like we haven’t been together before.” “We were just kids, then. To say things have changed is a ridiculous understatement.” “I don’t care.” “Well I do!” His hand stroked her arm. Alyssa struggled to control the shuddering that threatened to take over her body under the influence of his touch. She didn’t completely succeed. “Are you cold?” Devlin’s hand stilled on her forearm and gently squeezed. She managed to shake her head, murmuring, “No…no…it’s warm. It’s a beautiful night.” His eyes smoldered in the dim light as his gaze ranged across her 24
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sleeveless linen blouse and jeans. “It sure is beautiful.” His other hand swept across her cheek. “Lyssie, being with you again. Here. Like this.” He released her with a groan. “This isn’t right.” “Bullshit.” She caught his hand and brought it to her lips. He groaned again. “Don’t make this harder—” She giggled nervously. “Is that a pun?” “Damn you, Lyssie!” He pulled her into his arms again. His warm breath caressed her neck. Lips brushed her ear lobe, trailed across her cheek. Rough hands cradled her face. Magnificent eyes searched hers. They’d assumed the rich shade of cerulean she remembered from when they’d made love. “Kiss me again!” she hissed. He hesitated. “Don’t make me beg.” “Good God, woman!” His lips descended onto her mouth. Alyssa’s body throbbed, begged, pressed against his. A symphony of emotions cascaded around her. Longing, loss, nostalgia. Love. His mouth became demanding. She yielded, quivering as his tongue invaded her. Passion fired and she met his bold thrusts, engaging in a fiery duel that claimed both of them victorious. His hands slipped under Alyssa’s blouse and began massaging her back. She trembled with the sensations radiating through her body, and ran her fingers down his T-shirt-clad sides. Yes, indeed. His body had certainly changed in ten years. A wiry youth had become an amazing specimen of manhood. Defined muscles led to a slim waist and jutting hipbones. Long ridges of sinew outlined his once-lean thighs, just as she knew they would when studying them through his denim. But one thing hadn’t changed, and Alyssa luxuriated in the familiar hardness of his manhood. Sensation mingled with memories of an 25
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abundant penis filling her, exciting her beyond reason. One hand cupped it and pressed gently. The other hand traveled down the front of his T-shirt. But, instead of cool cotton, Alyssa felt something warm and sticky on her hand. She pulled away and looked down. Her hand was covered in blood. So was her blouse where she’d pressed against him. Devlin swayed and fell onto the couch. “Damn!” he spat, clutching the spot from where blood oozed. “Jesus, Devlin!” Alyssa knelt next to him, and with ginger fingers, pulled up the T-shirt. A crimson diagonal stretch of what had been white bandages extended across his abdomen. “Like I said. The Sombra came after me. With a sticker, as it turned out.” “And you’ve been on the run all day, I’m sure. I’m amazed you were able to stand at all.” “It’s actually been healing nicely. I just…overdid it today.” “Why on earth didn’t you say something?” Devlin grinned. “We were busy.” She groaned and stood. “We need to get that wound cleaned and dressed. Wonder if there’s anything left in Dad’s cabinet—” She hurried toward the stairs and her father’s old room. When Alyssa returned, she found Devlin sprawled on the couch, sound asleep…or passed out. She couldn’t tell which. Within a few minutes, she had cleansed the nasty wound and stanched the bleeding. Devlin didn’t stir.
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CHAPTER 3
Alyssa stood and stretched. She eyed the fresh bandage she’d just applied to Devlin’s abdomen, and admitted to herself how tired she was. But she couldn’t rest yet. The sight of Devlin lying before her was too mesmerizing…fantastic… Arousing. Memories pushed aside her weariness. That couch, that very spot where Devlin slumbered, was where she’d made love with the heart and soul of her life. So many times they’d been together, each one magical. Her mind swept back to one of those occasions—a snowy December night when she and Devlin were in their senior year of high school. From the moment Devlin had laid his brawny hands upon her as they stood in the center of the sitting room, Alyssa knew this time they physically expressed their love for one another would be special. She had studied his sweet blue eyes and saw the lust flare. His 27
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hands swept down her T-shirt and jeans, sending flashes of excitement into her gut. Devlin’s lips brushed across hers. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Lyssie,” he whispered. She pressed her mouth against his, opening it as she accepted the velvety touch of his tongue. His thumbs flicked across her erect nipples and Alyssa felt her juices moisten her panties. Squirming inside her tight jeans, she grew still hotter as the denim seam at her crotch rubbed across her clit. My God! I could orgasm right now. Alyssa eased away from the exciting brink of her arousal. She wanted to climax with Devlin inside her, damn it! Her hand drifted down Devlin’s body to his crotch. She felt the heat radiate from the rock-hard bulge as his staff struggled against the constraints of his jeans. Her fingers worked the zipper with expert ease. Her mouth watered at the opportunity to once again capture the magnificent organ between her lips. She loved administering to Devlin in this manner. And she’d never had complaints from him about it. Alyssa smiled at the notion that he would turn away from the opportunity to possess her mouth. Not hardly. Devlin groaned as she freed him. The stiff rod bobbed slightly in the warm air, beckoning, inviting. She danced her fingers across the satiny cleft tip, then dropped to her knees before him. Looking up at him, she couldn’t help grinning. The lechery flickering in his indigo eyes, the slight trembling in his fingers as they stroked the top of her head, the tense stance of his substantial legs, spoke to his anticipation. “Want something?” she murmured before lowering her mouth to his penis. “Ah! You…tease.” Devlin’s gasps punctuated his words. His fingers tightened around locks of her hair as her tongue bathed his tip. 28
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Alyssa giggled, her mouth descending upon him as she did. She knew the vibrations from her laughter added a little extra to his enjoyment, which made the sharing of her fun all the richer. His staff quivered against her palette and she responded by sucking the petal-soft steel with long, deep pulls. Lower and lower her mouth descended as one hand wrapped around the shaft base. Relaxing her muscles, Alyssa took still more of him into her mouth. She couldn’t hope to consume all of him, but she was close. With easy strokes, she suctioned him, pausing to run her tongue along the underside of him, following the path created by a large blue vein. Devlin responded with shivers and delighted moans. She playfully nipped at his tip while a hand cupped his near-tobursting testicles. Juggling the silky globes with her fingers, Alyssa once again drew Devlin’s awesome penis into her mouth. Pumping his base with her other hand, she worshipped his rigid staff with her lips, beginning a steady stroking as her mouth rode his length. Devlin’s hands guided her head, urging her to increase her pace. She obliged, reveling in the sensation of his cock pulsing against the soft tissue inside her mouth. She suckled him in rapid-fire waves, accepting more of him than she ever had before. Faster and faster her head moved as Devlin’s hips joined the rhythm. With a raspy moan, he suddenly stilled, and the harsh blasts of his release started filling her. Wave after wave of creamy nectar spewed down her throat, and Alyssa savored every drop. When the stream dwindled and ended, Alyssa pulled away and tongued the remnants until Devlin’s staff glistened with her saliva. Devlin pulled her to her feet, cradling her in his arms and showering her face with kisses. “I love you so much,” he murmured. “Because I give the best blow jobs in town?” she teased, then regretted her light-hearted words when he tensed and stepped away 29
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from her. He cupped her chin with one hand and studied her for a long moment, his piercing eyes, now cobalt, clouded with concern. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She planted a kiss on his Roman nose. “Of course I know it.” His expression hadn’t cleared. “Devlin, there are some things so true they’re bigger than words. Our love for each other is one of those things.” She grasped his head and lowered it to her mouth, then she rained kisses across his forehead and face. Linebacker arms wrapped around Alyssa and crushed her against him before picking her up and cradling her against his body. He kissed her, then laid her out on the couch as if she were a china doll. Kneeling on the floor beside her, he probed deeply inside her mouth with his tongue. One hand swept across her neck and down to her breasts, where it paused. His fingers cupped one mound through the cotton of her T-shirt before he growled and raised his head to mumble, “Too many clothes here.” With great tenderness, he undressed her, carefully setting her garments to the side, worshipping each bit of her flesh as it was revealed to him. Alyssa writhed against the chintz cushion, her body on fire. The idea of presenting herself to him naked sent shafts of arousal zinging through her gut. She felt free, daring, so…shameless. And she loved every minute of it. With her skin bared, she spread herself before Devlin. A tiny smile played at one corner of her mouth as she watched his baby blues caress every part of her. Her juices flowed, coating her inner thigh with warm stickiness. Enough adoration from him, she suddenly decided. She wanted Devlin inside her. Now. Tugging on his shirt, she managed to drag his attention away from 30
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her body. But not for long, she assured herself. “Hey you! Talk about overdressed. Don’t I get a show, too?” His answering leer delighted her. “No show, just me.” He rose and stripped off his clothes without fanfare. But before he returned to her side, he stood for a few seconds, giving her the exhibition she had requested. Her eyes feasted on him, on his shoulderlength luxurious ebony curls framing a high brow and penetrating eyes. His aquiline nose, sharp cheekbones, sensuous lips and firm chin created the face of a Roman god. Arms packed with sinew rested at his side. Lines of lean muscle defined a broad torso and slender waist above thighs equally slender and strong. And at the juncture of those thighs rested his magnificent organ. Pulsing full of blood, coated with thick blue veins, it jabbed the humid air with proud defiance. Above plump testicles, it rose from a nest of thick black pubic hair. Her impatience for him assumed control. “Lie with me, Dev,” she whispered, opening her arms. With a delighted growl, he swooped down on top of her. “Like this, Lyssie?” His lopsided mischievous grin nearly stopped her heart. The substantial weight of him enclosed her, bringing with it a sense of security and solidity Alyssa yearned to capture and hold close to her heart for the rest of her life. Coherent thought pushed aside to make way for flaring lust as Devlin’s hands swept down her naked body. He dropped his head to her breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth and pulling playfully. The sweet pain spiked her lust. He pushed apart her thighs. Alyssa opened herself to him. Devlin’s fingers drifted down her stomach. Lower they trailed, into her pubic bush, then still lower. He feathered her clit with gentle fingertips. Alyssa yelped with delight and would have sat bolt upright in pure joy if Devlin hadn’t been lying on top of her. Waves of arousal tossed inside her. If he continued to caress her, 31
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Alyssa knew she would climax. As if reading her mind, Devlin brushed her ear with his lips before whispering, “I want to see you come, Lyssie. Just for me.” Watching her face all the while, he continued to caress her button. Stiff and bursting with sizzling nerve endings, it hummed to his touch. Alyssa closed her eyes, surrendering to red-hot sensations so intense they fired every inch of her. Orgasmic ripples lapped at her consciousness, growing, intensifying. Alyssa dropped into their depths and allowed them to overwhelm her. She heard her own gasps as if coming from someone else’s mouth. And they were the last thing she heard for long seconds as blistering darkness surrounded her. “Lyssie? Lyssie, say something.” Devlin’s voice glided into her rich cocoon and Alyssa welcomed the sound. His strong hands gripped her upper arms, and his gentle shake awakened her fully. She opened her eyes to the sight of Devlin’s face hovering over her, streaked with fear. “Can you talk to me, honey?” he entreated. Alyssa smiled and cupped her hands at the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to hers. The kiss was long and deep. Under its spell, Devlin’s lips lost their tension and yielded to her tongue. She explored him thoroughly before releasing him. “Damn! You scared me, girl,” he murmured, his lips an inch from hers. “I’m fine, Dev. But I could be even better.” He raised his torso onto a bent elbow and looked down at her, delight twinkling in his eyes. “You are so bad.” In that moment, Alyssa revelled in the beauty of him. Her heart beat a tattoo so strident, she could scarcely believe it didn’t burst from her chest. “Make me better, Dev.” He grinned and rose above her, the steely tip of his penis bumping 32
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her hip. With the natural grace of a jungle cat, he settled between her legs, bringing his granitic rod to her opening. Panting with excitement and need, she struggled for air. Trembling fingers ran through his abundant black curls before she cupped his face. “I…want…you.” “God, I love you!” He ran one hand down her side, then raised himself so that he could draw fingers through her juices. Alyssa sobbed at the touch. “Please!” She opened her eyes to see him coating his penis with her essence. And then he was at her entrance, pressing. She spread her thighs wide, and brought her hips up to meet him. His lips grazed her before they descended to one breast. As he suckled her with fiery passion, he pushed inside her, then stilled, his breath coming in harsh bursts. Her frantic hands cupped his buttocks. “Deeper. Oh, Devlin, fuck me for God’s sake.” As if he had waited for those words, he growled and thrust down her canal. He entered her to the hilt and withdrew to her threshold, where he paused for a beat before spearing her again. He filled every bit of her, and Alyssa accepted his bulk with joy born from the exquisite love binding them together. She raised her buttocks to meet his thrusts, struggling to capture every inch of him. Her vaginal walls sizzled with fiery nerve endings that strafed his velvet-encased steel, gripped him. Seized his electric energy with tight muscles. Never had she felt so alive as she did surrounding his petrous strokes. She studied his face, watching expressions of concentration and strain cross his sharp features, knowing he was trying to control his urge to orgasm in order to give her pleasure. Rational thought fled as he pumped into her with a steady rhythm. Her hips met him and they joined in a timeless dance known only to 33
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them. Faster and harder he impaled her, and she met him with joyous abandon. They welcomed the orgasmic tide washing over them as one, adrift in a blistering sea of sensation that held them in its grip for untold moments. As if emerging from a searing fog, Alyssa opened her eyes to see Devlin lying quietly next to her—at least, his torso had drifted off to her side, his magnificent organ, however, still stiff, remained inside her. Playfully, she tensed her vaginal muscles, gripping his penis. A smile creased Devlin’s face. “I was going to ask you if you were all right, but I can see that’s not necessary.” Her delighted laugh emanated directly from her heart. Within seconds, Alyssa had rolled onto him and their sex play had resumed in earnest. Now, eleven years later, Alyssa sighed as she covered the slumbering Devlin with a blanket. Watching his troubled sleep, she realized that this man who lay in the spot where two teenagers had worshipped each other, was far different from the youth who had given her such delight. This man was bruised and scarred from ten years spent in hell. In a moment of razor-sharp truth, Alyssa knew she would do everything in her power to heal him, free him. And keep him by her side for the rest of their lives together.
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CHAPTER 4
White glare hammered at his eyelids and Devlin rolled his head to one side in a vain attempt to avoid the direct attack. He pulled the blanket over his head, settling deeper into the sofa cushions. And froze. Cushions? Cushions in Marion? Not likely. He bolted upright and blinked in the brightness. As the tiny sitting room came into focus, the previous day’s events flooded him. He looked at his watch. 1:00. In the afternoon. He’d slept through the morning. A sense of disaster threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t meant to spend the night in Alyssa’s old house. He hadn’t meant to run into her. He hadn’t meant to involve her in this affair at all, at least until he’d obtained the evidence he needed to prove his innocence. Despite the familiar doom settling over him, Devlin acknowledged a ray of sunshine. Damn, it had been good to see her. He’d fought off his desire for her over the course of those ten long years. Ten years 35
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spent yearning for her gentle touch, her green eyes sparkling at him, her delicate lips smiling at him. Ten years dreaming about her glorious body pressed against him, about lavender-scented auburn curls in which a man could get lost. Reality crashed into his bemusement. He had to get out of here. The longer he stayed in Alyssa’s house, the more he placed her in danger. Bones stiff from the confining, dainty couch complained as Devlin unfolded his hulking frame and stood. The wound flared across his abdomen and he winced at its fire. Nimble fingers touched a clean bandage. He didn’t even remember Alyssa tending to him the night before. A smile curled his lips as he saw a stack of clean clothes—her father’s, no doubt—on a nearby armchair. Alyssa’s thoughtfulness sent a burst of warmth into his gut. How nice it was to be cared for after all those hellish years of fending for himself. He listened for sounds of Alyssa in the house, and heard none. Frowning, he stalked through the door and began a systematic search of the rooms. No Alyssa. Concern niggled at him. Calm down. It’s for the best she’s gone. Now you can get on with your business and you don’t have to worry about her. Devlin showered and started to dress when a thought pushed through his mind that so stunned him, he flopped onto the couch. What had she said last night? I’ll go to Gilbert for you…he owes me…he likes me…he’ll listen to me… She wouldn’t. Really? Sure she would. Devlin knew exactly where she was. Gilbert maintained an elaborate office suite in his North Shore mansion. It’s where Devlin had intended to go that morning. And as he prepared to leave his temporary refuge, every instinct 36
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told him he’d better get to Gilbert’s fast. Because Alyssa was there, and she needed him. Now. *
*
*
“He did not send me,” Alyssa said through gritted teeth as she glared at Stefano Gilbert. The older man was being impossible, not nearly as forthcoming as he’d been during their last encounter. Then again, he’d changed in the months since last she’d seen him. Probably due to his son’s death, she reasoned. His former vitality had disappeared. Now, dark circles anchored eyes bloodshot and hooded. Lank gray hair scattered across a perspiring pate, and pasty skin announced ill health. He’d waved off her sympathies with an abrupt swipe of the hand through a chilled breeze wafting from an airconditioning vent. Alyssa pulled her linen blazer tighter around her and smoothed her skirt as she watched Gilbert shift his gelatinous bulk in a leather desk chair. He was uncomfortable with her presence, she sensed. Indeed, he’d been reluctant to meet with her at all. It was only after she called in her marker that he’d acquiesced to her visit. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Miss White.” He shook his head at her. “Look, Mr. Gilbert—” Alyssa plastered her most charming smile onto her face and continued in a voice she coaxed a bit deeper than normal. She knew her voice was one of her best assets. Friends had called it velvety, melodious. Well, let it work for me now. “I’m not asking you to do anything you hadn’t already promised to do.” “McGraw must trust you. Otherwise he never would have shared with you what I told him after he saved my boy.” “Yes, he does trust me.” Gilbert studied her for a long moment, then a hint of smile crossed his beefy lips. “Ah, it’s like that, is it?” Alyssa could feel her cheeks warm. Damn. She hated the blushing thing. And it always appeared at the worst possible moment. “Mr. 37
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Gilbert, his life is hanging in the balance. Look, just as he saved your son, he’s asking that you save him. You’re the only one who can do it. You must see that.” “And what about my boy? He died anyway.” “That wasn’t Devlin’s fault.” She sought out his eyes, caught his focus, and willed it to remain trained on her. In softer tones, she said, “No one’s sorrier than Devlin for what happened to Leo. But Devlin is a target now. Because he saved your son once, Devlin’s had to deal with Sombre members coming after him. They nearly killed him in an attack a short time ago.” She considered mentioning that Devlin had fled prison because of them, then decided against it. Gilbert didn’t need to know those details. An indefinable expression flashed across his spent eyes. “Well, I’m sorry for that. Is he—” “He’s been slashed, but the wound is healing.” Instinct told Alyssa to back off. She settled in her armchair and crossed her legs, deliberately allowing her skirt to ride up her thigh. Gilbert’s eyes riveted to the exposed flesh, just as she knew they would. “I know your word is your bond. And I know you pride yourself in that. Yet you’ve broken a promise.” She paused for effect—an instinct developed in the courtroom—then continued. “Look, I’ve always been honest with you, Stefano. As you have with me. So give it to me straight. Why have you not followed through with your plan to exonerate Devlin McGraw?” “Because he can’t think of anyone but old Leo,” a harsh voice rammed through the room. Alyssa started in surprise, then her heart sank. Of all times, this was not when Neal Gilbert should arrive on the scene. She looked over her shoulder to see the stormy face of Gilbert’s twenty-one-year-old son. Neal had brought friends; two thugs flanked him. 38
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“This is a private meeting,” Gilbert hissed. “Get out of here.” “Oh, now, Pops, it’s been too long since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Miss White. It was a pleasure, that last meeting. Wasn’t it?” The short, stocky young man dropped into an armchair next to her, his associates hovering behind him. Mottling blanketed his swarthy complexion, dark brown eyes burned in deep-set sockets, thin lips twisted—the perfect picture of repressed fury. Alyssa stifled a shudder as she took in his expression loaded with venom, ugly glee, and lust. She watched in revulsion as he ran dirty fingers through stringy black hair that curled around his navy T-shirt. “I told you to leave, Neal.” Gilbert’s voice seethed with anger. “And deprive myself of this lovely lady’s company? I don’t think so.” Neal leaned toward her. Alyssa steadily held her body position. And concentrated on not inhaling the stench of stale scotch and sweat rippling from him like a malignant breeze struggling across a garbage-laden pond. “So, still defending the weak and pathetic?” Alyssa noted his slurred speech. Neal was drunk. “I’m still a defense attorney, if that’s what you’re asking.” “You know…” Neal leaned farther out of his chair. His boys moved closer. “I’ve never gotten you out of my head.” “I know what you mean.” He giggled, an affected sound with ominous undertones that shot shivers down Alyssa’s back. He’s drunk and crazy. “Neal, don’t make me throw you out of here,” Stefano growled. Neal ignored his father, and spoke to Alyssa in a confidential tone. “He’s done that all his life, you know. Whenever he’s had enough of me, he throws me away. I’m not his precious Leo. I’m the kid who screws up. The kid he’s always had to bail out of trouble.” His words struck hard at Alyssa. After all, it was Leo who had gone to prison, and gotten himself killed. Didn’t that qualify as “screwing 39
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up” to this family? Neal continued, “Hell, everyone knows he wishes I’d been the one to die.” His focus slid to the elder Gilbert. “Right, Father?” “We’re not having this conversation again,” snapped Stefano. “And you—” Neal lurched from his chair to loom over Alyssa. “Thinking you could save that scum-sucking kid.” His quivering hand brushed her cheek. “Before you butted in, Dad and I were actually getting along. Can you believe that? The first time in years. And you had to mess it up for me.” Alyssa started to slide out of her seat, but Neal placed his hands on the back of her chair, his arms on either side of her, trapping her. “No one crosses me. No one. Especially some lawyer-bitch.” Steady, kid. Deep breaths and don’t show him you’re scared. He’s like a rabid dog that can sense fear. “Let me go.” To Alyssa’s great relief, her voice sounded calm and low. He threw back his head and howled. The devilish sound clawed through the cool air. “Neal, I demand you release her and get the hell out of here.” Out of the corner of her eye, Alyssa watched Stefano rise from behind his desk and approach them. “Boys?” Neal murmured. “I’ve had enough of this old man. Keep him quiet, will you?” The pair of hoods swaggered toward the older man. “Neal,” Stefano bellowed. “This is an outrage.” The younger Gilbert whipped his head around to look at his father. “An outrage that I’m finally confronting you? Man, I’ve just been biding my time, waiting for this. Now seems as good a time as any.” A gun appeared in Stefano’s hand. “Back off,” he snarled at the twosome. Neal raised a hand and closed it around Alyssa’s throat. “Get rid of the gun, Pops, or I squeeze her until her eyes bug out.” 40
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The iron grip forced Alyssa’s head against the back of the chair. Through her terror, she fought for air. “Son, what do you hope to prove?” “That he’s a first-class fool,” came a voice from across the room. Alyssa’s heart jumped. Where had Devlin come from? Neal swiveled his head toward a line of French doors along one wall of the office. Towering before them was Devlin’s macho bulk silhouetted by the sunlight. “Who the hell are—?” Alyssa stirred within his grasp, drawing his attention back to her. As his head cranked around, Alyssa’s hand shot up, her fingers poised like ice picks aiming for his eyes. In her fury, she jabbed one of the orbs. Neal lurched backward with a shriek, hands clenched over his wounded eye. Devlin covered the distance from the French doors in powerful strides, seizing Neal by his shoulders and turning him until Gilbert faced him. “Don’t you ever touch her again,” Devlin hissed as an explosive left hook detonated into the young man’s face. Neal curled into a fetal position on the floor, sobbing in pain. Devlin loomed over him. Alyssa sprang from her chair at the same time one of Neal’s thugs lunged for Devlin’s back. A gun cocked, and Alyssa saw Stefano aiming his firearm at the second ruffian, who had begun moving toward Devlin. “One at a time,” the older man snarled. Her focus returned to Devlin as he jammed an elbow into his attacker’s ribs. “Ooof!” The punk stumbled backward as he gasped for air. Devlin whirled toward him. Giving the thug no time to recover, Devlin grasped the man by his shoulders. A muscle-bound arm swept 41
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through the air, firing an upper cut at the goon’s jaw. The man’s head snapped as if only supported by a twig. His body propelled backward. As he fell, his skull slammed into the corner of a table with a sickening thud, his cranium bucking forward from the impact. He dropped to the oriental rug, unconscious. Movement in the corner of her eye drew Alyssa’s attention back to Neal, who had gotten to his feet and was stumbling toward Devlin. “Heads up,” came Stefano’s voice. Alyssa drilled her attention to him as he stripped a pistol from the thug he’d pinned with his own gun. The elder Gilbert tossed the firearm to her. “Keep that idiot out of it.” He nodded in Neal’s direction. Alyssa cradled the .45 in her hand, grateful for her father’s insistence she learn how to shoot, then pinned it on Neal. The younger Gilbert stopped in his tracks, staring at her in disbelief. “You bitch,” he snarled. “It’s all right, Lyssie,” came Devlin’s deep voice at her ear. “It’s all over.” He divested her of the pistol. She slumped against him, her tense body suddenly limp. Vaguely, she heard Stefano on the phone, rapping orders to…whom? Staff, she assumed. Alyssa turned into Devlin’s arms and allowed the outside world to recede. Relief washed over her as she settled into the secure cocoon he created for her. I will never leave this man’s arms. Never. Fantasies began dancing before her mind’s eye: she and Devlin strolling arm-in-arm along a sun-washed beach; Devlin flinging an armful of fall leaves at her as they raked the yard next to the Evanston Victorian; Alyssa crawling into bed and curling up next to him before he swept her under his magnificent body and made passionate love to— “Honey.” Devlin gently disentangled her from him. She stifled a sigh and stepped away, her eyes taking in his brawny body clad in tight jeans and her father’s pale blue oxford shirt. A trace 42
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of crimson trailed across the starched cotton. “Dev, you’re—” He captured her hand as it strayed toward his wound. Lifting it to his mouth, he kissed it before whispering, “I know, honey. But we have business to take care of before we worry about it.” A rap at Stefano’s door elicited a gruff “Come” from the elder Gilbert. In walked a trio of men. Alyssa stifled a shiver as she eyed the toughs. In the face of their steely cold demeanor, Neal’s ill-fated pair seemed like children. These men needed no adolescent fanfare. Ruthlessness radiated from them like haze swirls around an ice sculpture. “Sit down, you two,” Stefano said to her and Devlin. She complied. Devlin deposited the gun on Stefano’s desk before he sank into a chair next to her. Together, they watched the crime boss direct his men. Within minutes, Neal and his two companions had been hauled away. The door closed behind them with an ominous click. For a long moment, oppressive silence sagged over the trio before Alyssa said, “What’s going to happen to them?” Stefano shrugged, the gesture eloquent. “They’ll be taken care of.” A sense of foreboding trickled down her spine. Stefano nodded at Devlin. “I’m not going to ask how you got through my security to break in here. I’m just grateful you did. Son, you were a big help.” “A big help—?” Alyssa caught Devlin’s look of warning and clamped her mouth shut. Adrenaline still pulsed through her veins and she struggled to calm down. “I realize what I owe you. Your lady made that very clear before my punk son interrupted us.” Stefano paused, scrutinizing Devlin with his sharp, red-rimmed eyes. “We have much to discuss.” *
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Devlin stared at Stefano, waiting for the words that would change his life. Instead, Gilbert sat back in his leather desk chair and gazed at him. Finally, the older man murmured, “You’re not what I pictured. Tough from the prison yard, yes. But, still civilized.” He shook his head. “Prison does terrible things to a man. Speaking of which, Marion is state-of-the-art maximum security. How the hell did you manage to get out of there?” Devlin shook his head, refusing to acknowledge—even to himself-the meticulous plans and elaborate lengths to which he had gone to escape. Blackmail and bribes are ugly companions when a man is alone with himself in the dead of night. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to talk about it,” Stefano said. “Must have been one hell of a setup, that’s all I can guess.” Alyssa stirred in her chair. Devlin saw her brilliant emerald eyes fire bullets at the crime boss. Impatience seemed to flow from her every pore. He caught her attention and smiled at her with a silent plea to hold her counsel for the moment. She nodded slightly, supporting his request. A slight shiver of joy trickled across Devlin’s heart. After all these years, he and Lyssie were still in perfect sync. “Let me get to the point, young man,” Stefano went on. “I was a fool to turn away from my promise to you. As Miss White so adroitly pointed out.” He nodded toward Alyssa. “My only defense is one of a grief-stricken father who couldn’t see beyond his own pain.” He pushed himself up from his chair and lumbered toward the French doors. One of them, the one through which Devlin had entered the room, stood ajar. Sultry air filtered in from the formal garden beyond. He closed the door. “But I’m ready to make amends and keep my promise. Right here and now.” He turned back to the pair. “As I told you on the phone a 44
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while back, I was in the pizza joint the night Bianco was shot. I witnessed the killing. I’m willing to go to the DA with my story.” Devlin fired the question that had been burning in his mind for ten painful years. “Who was it? Who killed the old man?” Gilbert’s sigh was long and expressive. “A simple question with a complex answer. Please bear with me and let me tell you the whole story. You see, the killing was just the tip of the iceberg where you’re concerned, McGraw.” “I don’t understand.” Devlin found himself gritting his teeth, and he forced himself to relax. “It all started before you were born. Ella—” “What does my mother have to do with this?” Stefano raised a hand in a request for silence as he returned to his chair. “Bear with me, son. You’ve both heard of predecessor, Jake Testa, I take it. Well…hell, I don’t know any other way to say it than straight out.” He paused for an interminable second. “Jake and Ella were lovers at one time.” Fury burst through Devlin. He lunged from his chair and leaned over the desk. “You’re a bloody liar.” “Sit down, McGraw. If you want my help, you’ll keep quiet and listen.” Devlin felt Alyssa’s hand on his arm. “Let’s hear him out,” she murmured. Succumbing to her firm pressure, he returned to his chair. “Go on,” he snapped at Gilbert. The older man nodded. “This is tough stuff I’m telling you. But you’re going to have to handle it, if you want to know the truth. You see, your mother and Jake were very much in love, at one time. And you, dear boy, are the product of that love. You are the son of Jake Testa.” The walls seemed to close in on Devlin. Shaking his head, he said 45
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through numbed lips, “I must have heard you wrong. I thought you said—” “It’s true,” came the gravely voice of the crime boss. “Just about the time Ella learned she was pregnant, Testa was given the reins of the organization. Which meant it was time for him to marry DeNiro’s daughter.” “DeNiro?” murmured Alyssa. “He was in charge of the syndicate before Testa, right?” Gilbert nodded. “It was an arranged marriage, in the spirit and style of the Old Country. No wonder Testa looked elsewhere for love. And he found it with your mother, McGraw. Of course, this was kept quiet. And by the time she bore you, she’d already married Arthur McGraw.” He waited for a few seconds before continuing. “Testa and your mother didn’t have much contact with one another after you entered the picture. Although Testa always looked out for her…and you. Made sure you were both taken care of, especially after your father—or rather, Arthur McGraw—died.” Devlin fought for each breath, shock pressing down on him, crushing his life as he knew it, forcing him to face a freakish reality. His father…wasn’t his father. His mother…was a woman he’d never known. Dimly, through the murky swirl of thoughts grappling to process Gilbert’s words, he heard the older man continue. “And that’s how you came to work at Bianco’s Pizza. It was one of those joints that paid us for our protection. When Testa saw you needed a job, he made certain Bianco got the message to hire you.” “Which is why Bianco hated you, Devlin,” Alyssa spoke in agitated tones. “I always wondered why he seemed out to get you.” “Bianco was a first-class idiot, and no one was surprised when you quit, McGraw,” Stefano when on. “’Course your mother was really upset about what happened, and went to talk to him that night.” “My—mother was there? The night Bianco was shot?” whispered 46
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Devlin. “She was more than there, son.” Gilbert hesitated, as if considering his next words. “She showed up that night to get your job back, just as I was about to leave after having my own…er…business discussion with Bianco. I guess with both of us confronting him—about very different things, mind you—Bianco felt cornered. And well, you know what they say about trapping a wild animal. Bianco was primed to get real ugly. Didn’t take long before he and Ella were arguing. Your mother was telling him she’d set Testa after him if he didn’t cooperate as I started to clear out of there. Before I could make it to the outside door, I heard the shot. When I rushed back into the storeroom, your mother was standing over Bianco, holding a smoking gun in her hand, which she promptly dropped when she saw me.” “I don’t believe this!” Devlin exploded, leaping from the chair and pacing the room in agitated strides. “You’re telling me Mother shot Bianco?” “In self-defense, son.” “Don’t call me ‘son.’ I am not your son.” Devlin caught the shared look of worry passing between Gilbert and Alyssa, but ignored it, too stunned to focus on much of anything. “I said, she shot him in self-defense.” Gilbert spoke in quiet tones. “That’s what she told me, and I believed her. I…got her out of there, and arranged for someone to clean up the crime scene.” “But Devlin showed up before your men arrived,” broke in Alyssa. Gilbert nodded. “It was a tough break. A real tough break.” “But why didn’t someone say anything? How could Ella remain quiet and let her son go to prison for her crime?” Alyssa’s voice carried a note of hysteria. “I held that woman in my arms as they dragged away Devlin—” She stifled a sob. Devlin shivered in agony, remembering all too well the scene in the courtroom that stifling June day. He could hear his mother’s shrieks as 47
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if she were standing next to him now. And yet she— He snapped. Two long strides took him behind the desk. He grabbed Gilbert by the lapels of his jacket and forced him to his feet. “You’re a fucking liar!” “Devlin, don’t!” Alyssa came up beside him, trying to pull him away from the older man. Ignoring her, Devlin yanked Gilbert toward him until they stood inches apart. “I should kill you right here and now for this shit!” Gilbert watched him with a cold calm and hissed, “Don’t be stupid. Hear me out.” Alyssa tugged on his arm. “Devlin, please.” Fury cooled as a wave of icy reason washed over him. What would it hurt to let the man finish his story? He could always kill him later. Trembling fingers released their hold on Gilbert’s silk jacket. Summoning every scrap of willpower, Devlin forced his feet to carry him back to his chair. He waited for Gilbert to continue. Tension consumed him, threatening to eat him alive just as it had ten years before. When he’d listened to his sentence being read in court. “Your mother begged Testa to allow her to confess to the murder,” Gilbert said. “‘Allow her’?” Devlin snarled. Stefano shook his head. “As long as he lived, Testa owned all of us. Nothing happened without his say-so. He wouldn’t let us speak up because he didn’t want his father-in-law knowing about the affair. That marriage was rocky, and Testa always struggled to keep it together. Without it, he would have lost his father-in-law’s blessing and his position in the organization.” Stefano paused for a beat. “Don’t you get it, McGraw? If Ella had gotten involved in your case—or if I’d said anything—the story of your birth and their affair might have come out. Testa would have lost his gravy train. Probably his life, too.” He 48
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shrugged. “Testa threatened to kill my wife if I said anything, and he kept your mother silent by using you. Told her you’d meet with an unfortunate accident if she squealed. If she kept quiet…well…at least you were alive.” “He would have killed his own son?” Alyssa nearly sobbed the words. “Without flinching, Miss White. It was all real ugly, but that’s what went down. As simple as that.” “Simple?” Devlin hissed. Gilbert shot Devlin a piercing look. “I didn’t mean it that way.” “You could have come forward once Testa’s father-in-law died.” Alyssa spoke in quiet, tense tones. “The old man’s been gone for years, now.” “You’re right, I should have done that. And I’m not proud I didn’t. I have no excuse, except to say I’ve survived this long by keeping my head low. Those who crossed Jake Testa didn’t live long. And taking up McGraw’s case would have been nasty for me. Even after so many years.” “Because the asshole didn’t want to acknowledge a bastard, bottom line,” Devlin said through gritted teeth. “That’s exactly right.” Gilbert drilled Devlin with fierce eyes. “Look, McGraw, I can do something to help you now. So—you want your life back, or are you going to wallow in the past?” The room fell quiet as Devlin fought his way through the black hole of all he’d just learned. The air seemed devoid of oxygen, and he found himself gasping. “Dev,” Alyssa whispered, kneeling by his side. “Let’s get this over with. We’ll deal with the shock later. Okay?” His head seemed cast in concrete as he struggled to nod. She squeezed his arm, undoubtedly hoping to reassure him, then turned toward Gilbert. “Even with your evidence, Devlin’s life is still in 49
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jeopardy.” “The Sombre.” Gilbert nodded. “You know their reach is long. Whether Devlin is in or out of prison, they’ll still hunt him down. And they’re doing so because he crossed them when he saved your son’s life. You owe him protection.” Protection? From Gilbert? Never! Devlin struggled from his shockfilled stupor. “Not protection. No!” “But Dev—” “It won’t come to that!” “What do you have, boy?” came Gilbert’s gruff voice. “Names of the Sombre members operating in and outside prison walls.” The older man spoke in a choked voice. “I should have gotten those names, myself. I have every bit as much reason to know who those bastards are as you do.” He stalked to a sideboard and grabbed a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid. Over his shoulder he said to Devlin and Alyssa, “Would either of you like a scotch? No?” He poured a healthy measure into a glass and tossed it back. “Neal was right about one thing. I’ve spent so much time wallowing in my grief, I haven’t thought of much else. It’s time to get on with the business of life…and death.” He downed another shot and clomped back to his desk chair. “Young man, you get me those names. I’ll take care of the rest.” He turned his attention to Alyssa. “He’ll be safe from the Sombre. I give you my word.” “Thank you,” Alyssa whispered. “And now, Miss White, Devlin’s going to need an attorney when I deliver my evidence to the DA. Not to mention someone to handle the legal trouble he’s in because he broke out of a Federal penitentiary.” “You’re looking at the someone,” she said in a calm voice. “I don’t see any long-range obstacles to Devlin living a free life.” “You’re always very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Gilbert smiled. 50
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“Not always. But I am about this. DA Hamlin Perry’s a family friend. My father was his mentor, in fact. And right now, the judges who would handle Devlin’s business are all old friends of my father. They watched Dad fight for Dev’s freedom. At that time, it was common knowledge Devlin had been set up. Of course, without evidence, no one could do anything about it. Now, with your testimony, I suspect the legal system will do all it can to ease his way toward freedom.” “But what about the prison break?” asked Gilbert. “He never should have been in prison in the first place.” She grabbed one of Devlin’s hands—which he had formed into a fist—and opened it to a more relaxed position before cradling it in her palm. “Regardless of what happens, I’ll be by Devlin’s side. Now and always.”
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CHAPTER 5
Relief flooded Alyssa when she found Devlin slumped on the couch in the “ladies’ sitting room.” She hadn’t seen him since he’d disappeared a short time after his turbulent confrontation with Neal and Stefano Gilbert. That had been many hours ago. Much had been accomplished before he’d vanished, however. Alyssa had called Hamlin Perry and set up a meeting with the DA for the following day. Devlin agreed to turn himself in to authorities immediately before that meeting. Gilbert’s doctor had been called to the mansion and tended Devlin’s wound as the group talked. Logistics finalized, Alyssa and Devlin prepared to leave the crime boss’ house. Devlin had thought it best they not be seen together and had disappeared in the vast grounds surrounding the mansion after promising to meet her later at the Evanston home. Alyssa watched him go, smothering her disappointment at spending even a few moments away from him. Not as easy to extinguish was her deep concern that 52
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Devlin might be spotted and arrested before he surrendered to the police the next day. Back at her childhood home, Alyssa changed into shorts and Tshirt, and waited for him, curled into the deep cushions of an armchair in the sitting room. But when late afternoon crawled past her and night approached, Alyssa had decided to use the adrenaline pumping through her veins to search for him. Hours later, she’d returned to the house, defeated. But as soon as she’d crossed the threshold, she sensed his presence. Now, she studied his hunched shoulders, tight mouth, strained eyelids clamped shut. Tension from the day oozed from every pore; inner turmoil rested on his shoulders like a mantle of dagger points. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped herself. While his physical wound was well on its way to healing, emotional injuries had been ignored in the day’s flurry of events. It was time for Devlin to wrestle with his inner demons. Alyssa turned away, intent upon leaving him in peace. At least for this night. “Don’t go.” She whirled back and saw his blazing blue eyes pierce the midnight shadows to reach her. Deliberate steps took her to the couch, where she sank onto the chintz cushion next to him. He opened his arms to her and she snuggled against the hard plane of his muscled chest. Lips swept across her tousled curls. “I was worried about you,” she said into the starched cotton of her father’s old shirt. Devlin pulled her closer. “I know. I’m sorry.” “You need time to sort out…everything. I understand that.” He kissed the top of her head. “Well, honey, you’re right about the need to sort through things. The dust is settling and I’m left trying to 53
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figure out what I’m going to do with my life. Christ, I don’t even know who the hell I am.” She raised her head to look up at him. “I can tell you exactly who you are.” His smile was loving. “I’ll just bet you can.” “You’re the smartest, sweetest, bravest person I’ve ever had the privilege to know. And the sexiest.” Devlin’s smile faded as a veil of pain drifted across his eyes. “You’ve been so patient. I don’t ever want to take advantage of that.” He cupped her chin in one hand and caressed her lips with his before he embarked on a long, soulful kiss. Gently, he disengaged and looked deep into her eyes. “We need to talk.” Alyssa’s heart fired in anxiety. “Go on.” “Lyssie, I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around my…mother and her story. That’ll take time, I guess. Instead, I spent the last hours…soul-searching, if you will. And came up with a few truths.” He chuckled softly. “They all involve you. Imagine that.” He sobered, his expressive eyes radiating a deep gentian. “I closed my heart the moment that sentence was read in court ten years ago. And I’ve spent every day since running from you. I thought it was the right thing to do. Now, I see how wrong I was. No…you made me see how wrong I was.” He clasped her hands in his and brought them to his lips for a moment before he continued. “You’ve managed to break down my defenses, Lyssie. And now I’m facing all sorts of things I’d been ignoring. They aren’t pretty.” He kissed her hands once more before releasing them. “Look, there’s no way I can apologize for all the pain I’ve caused you. The fact that you’re even talking to me is a miracle. But, if you’re willing, I’d really like to find my way back to us. To that special place that was only ours.” He ran fingers through his closecropped hair. “God only knows what I have ahead of me. Still and all, I’d like to know you’ll be by my side.” 54
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Alyssa sat up and cradled his face in her hands. “I can’t think of another place I’d rather be.” “God. What did I do to deserve you?” He kissed her lips again, this time with a fire that burned into Alyssa’s gut. His tongue attacked hers, and they dueled with a light-hearted abandon. Still locked in a deep kiss, Devlin rose and swept her into his arms. She pulled away to look up at him as he carried her from the room. He smiled at her. “I’ve had enough of the cramped couch. Let’s be comfortable, what d’ya say?” Devlin started to lower his head to once again claim her mouth, but she held out a hand to arrest his movement. “Dev?” “Hmmm?” “There’s really nothing to stop us now, right? I mean, from being together.” He paused before the stairway and looked down at her, his eyes glowing orbs of cobalt. “Nothing can keep us apart, now, Lyssie. Really.” He gave her no time to respond. His mouth descended upon her once more and he carried her up the stairs. Alyssa nearly drowned in the sensations surrounding her. Behind a wall of rock-hard muscle, Devlin’s heart beat a firm tattoo, his musky male scent mingled with his sweet breath as it swirled about her head, and his body heat washed over her. His lips demanded her attention. She lost herself in him, her mouth opening under his pressure to receive his probing tongue. Her hands worked the buttons of the oxford shirt until she could feel the rough hair covering the firm sinew of his chest. Hungry fingers swept through the coarse waves to his nipples. She strummed the erect nubs as they grew stiffer. Moisture seeped from her core. Alyssa was ready for him. God! How long she’d waited to feel him inside her again. She squirmed in his arms, anticipating. Then froze. 55
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He sensed her mood change and stopped once more, this time at the top of the stairs. Alyssa nodded toward the bandage stretched across his healing flesh. “Are you—?” Devlin chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I promise I won’t pass out on you this time.” “Are you sure?” He sobered. “You heard Gilbert’s doctor. I’m healing just fine. And remember what he said.” Devlin’s grin returned with a mischievous glint. “Physical exercise is good for me.” He started down the secondfloor hall, a few seconds later lowering her to a bed. Alyssa realized he’d carried her into her old room. She giggled. “How many times have I fantasized about this.” He dropped next to her. “Honey, you have no idea about fantasies until you’ve heard some of mine.” Devlin rose above her and whispered, “Let’s make them real.” His mouth lowered to her neck and blanketed her skin with kisses. As he worked his way down to her shoulders, his hands swept over her clothed body. Alyssa shuddered as heat built between her legs. I want him inside me. Now. “Devlin, my God,” she moaned. “Please—” Devlin’s fingers pulled her T-shirt over her head and let it sink to the floor. He feathered her breasts through the black lace of her bra and she moaned again, writhing under his hands. She reached for his open shirt and Devlin released her to allow the garment to slip down his arms. It joined her T-shirt on the floor. His hands cupped her breasts, then stripped away the bra. Cool air drifted across her exposed flesh before they were covered by Devlin’s electric touch. He strafed her nipples with his thumbs, then his lips brushed one nipple before he drew it into his mouth and gently sucked. 56
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Alyssa gasped, the heat from his mouth coursing through her in fiery waves. As he continued to suction her, his free hand caressed her other breast, then began a slow descent along her body. He paused only to divest her of her shorts and panties before his fingers fondled her, inch by inch, stirring a firestorm of sensation. Alyssa surrendered to the tumult, drifting into the depths of her passion and love for this glorious man who was finally hers. Savage arousal grew in her core, drawing her closer and closer to the brink of orgasm. Every touch lured her closer, and as Devlin’s hand neared the junction between her legs, Alyssa succumbed to her lust. His finger brushed her clit and she exploded, only to have the sensation intensify as he swept through her heated moisture, then entered her. She pulsed around the digit, then two digits. When a third finger probed her, Alyssa’s climax all but consumed her and shrieks filled her throat. Devlin pumped inside her and she ground down onto him, her hips meeting his rhythm as she rode his hand. As the sizzling tide slowly ebbed, Alyssa opened her eyes to see Devlin watching her intently as he withdrew his hand from her juicy slit. At some point, he’d stripped off the rest of his clothes. She licked her lips at the sight of him. Arms bulging with hard muscles framed his chiseled six-pack abs and torso, covered with a dusting of hair. His trim waist, slender hips, and firm stomach descended to a thatch of coiled black hair, hosting his magnificent tool. He’s bigger than I remember. The thought of that granite-like rod spearing her sent new ripples of lechery through her. “I want you, Dev.” Her voice had grown harsh, demanding. “I want you inside me.” She opened her legs to him. “Honey, you have no idea how much I agree.” He swung over on top of her, settling between her legs. “Take me, Devlin. Please—” Her words ended in a sob as the tip of 57
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his staff jabbed her sodden tissue. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in his weight pressing her into the bed. Hovering over her, Devlin braced himself on stiff arms. “Alyssa, look at me.” She opened her eyes to see his face, radiant with emotions. “I love you, lady. I always have. Always will.” No sooner had the words left his lips, then his penis thrust to her center. Then stilled. The thick member filled her completely. For a long moment, Alyssa didn’t move, relishing the feel of him inside her, the sound of his moan and hitched breathing. Alyssa wanted more of him. More than she’d ever handled before. She grasped his rounded buttocks, firm and lush, and raised her hips, entreating him still deeper. He stirred, his rod twitching against the sensitive walls of her vagina. Without warning he pulled back to her threshold. “No!” she moaned. “Oh, yes!” Devlin ground out, pushing into her sopping hole with full, slow slashes that incited her into a crazed, lust-filled state of euphoria. “My God, Dev,” she gasped. “My God!” His swipes grew faster and faster. Devlin grasped her legs and raised them to his shoulders. Alyssa screamed as the new angle drove him still deeper into her. His power consumed every inch of her; his muscle-ribboned thighs propelled his mighty strokes. Her arms dropped onto the bed, and she grabbed at the sheets, trying to steady herself before his potent display. Thrust after thrust brought her closer to fulfillment. And through her lust-filled haze, she saw the concentration on Devlin’s face that told her he waited for her. A timeless rhythm overtook their coupling. Their energy danced and swirled and melded around them. It swept them into its depth even 58
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as their bodies’ frenzy bore them toward the pinnacle of their love. Relentless pounding of body inside body carried them to a perfect unison. Wave after orgasmic wave rocked them. They clung together in the face of their ferocity. Declarations of love for one another were the last things they heard before enchanting oblivion began to cradle them in its richness. Time ceased to exist as sensation overtook them. As their souls joined as one, the vision of a long, rich life together appeared before them. It sparkled with a promise that would be kept. It was their sweet justice.
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DELPHYNE DEROUGE The steamy side of life calls to Delphyne DeRouge. “I’ve spent much of my writing life focusing on the American Civil War,” she says. “Stories of sexual antics behind the battle scenes need to be told! My Lord, those boys were a randy bunch. With all the pain and tragedy of that conflict, who can blame them for seeking their pleasure where and when they could find it?” Through her alter-ego, Madame Estelle—the madam of a Civil War-era brothel in Washington, D.C.—Delphyne delights in penning risqué tales of the temptresses who provided a lusty outlet for the soldiers in blue and gray. This has led to her critically-acclaimed series, The Women of Maison D’Estelle, for which Delphyne was named “Amber Quill Press Author Of The Year” by Fallen Angel Reviews. Steeped in rich detail, Delphyne’s historical writing seduces the reader, compelling her audience to join her in the racy past. A prime example is her erotica short story, Call To Loving Arms, an Amber Quill Press release, which has won rave reviews and the Golden Rose Award. Recently, Delphyne decided to widen her scope to include contemporary and fantasy erotica. “I realized there was no sense limiting myself to one historical period,” she explains. “There’re just too many titillating tales to tell. I’ve begun to write sizzling fiction, some of which focuses on today’s world, some revolves around timeless dream worlds. And Amber Quill Press has agreed to publish it all!”
Look for Delphyne’s historical, contemporary and fantasy fiction to be released throughout the upcoming months. By the way, she loves to hear from her readers. Feel free to email her at:
[email protected]. Visit her timeless, amorous world at www.delphynederouge.com.
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Don’t miss The Fire Inside, by Delphyne DeRouge, available from Amber Quill Press, LLC
He is a Traveler, one of the Druiaghtagh. A shaman of spirit and desire. Journeying through the Worlds of Dowan to the woman whose soul calls for help. Aleyn stands beside Rose’s sleeping form. He breathes her nightmare, senses her need as she struggles through the aftermath of bitter divorce. Suffers with her as she loses grasp of her confidence and sexuality. He whisks her to the world of the Treanach. The healing begins. Inside the magical walls of the Caisteal Aisling, he will worship her flesh, fire her lust, guide her to heights of unending ecstasy. She will learn to open her heart, to trust her passion. To celebrate the beauty of her own body. And Aleyn’s.
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