Devil in a Dark Blue Suit

Her grave tone was meant to bite. Instead her indignation shot a searing arrow straight to his groin. Damn, she was cute when she was mad. Didn’t mean he had a clue what she was on about.

‘So I’m irresponsible now?’

‘I know it’ll come as a shock,’ she stated, ‘but not all women are prepared to hang around to watch the final curtain fall.’

He pushed off the wall.

Okay. He had a slippery handle on this now. He enunciated each word carefully so no one got confused. ‘You’re saying you dumped me before I could dump you?’

‘You left for the UK that last morning without saying goodbye.’

Correct. ‘You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.’

‘You didn’t call when you landed.’

His brow lowered. ‘I didn’t realise I had to check in.’

‘You took another flight and boarded a ship that capsized in the freezing waters of the North Sea.’

He held off from rolling his eyes.

Here it comes.

Before he and Eden had even met, he’d organised with an industry colleague to check out their operations west of the Shetland Islands. The vessel—an anchor-handling tug—had been commissioned to recover and relocate the eighteen-tonne anchors of an oil drilling rig. A manoeuvre, preparing for a hard turn to starboard to increase stability, had resulted in the winch chain snapping across the deck and around to the port side. The tug had been pulled over. Human, technical or design error…the investigation into the accident had come back inconclusive.

He rubbed the corner of one eye. ‘Look, I understand you were worried. I spoke with you as soon as I could.’

Her stony mask broke. ‘Devlin, the accident was on the news! I couldn’t get hold of anyone who knew anything. I was worried out of my mind. And when I finally spoke to you, you as good as told me I was overreacting.’

Her heart was there, shining from the depths of her eyes and, irrespective of the fact he’d done nothing wrong, his chest squeezed around a fist full of guilt.

‘Nobody died,’ he reminded her, recalling the blaze of cameras when he’d finally got to shore after the accident. ‘I was fine.’

‘Just like you’re fine when you fly your ultra-light planes?’

His nostrils flared. ‘It’s a hobby I enjoy.’

‘Just like you’ll be fine when you finally climb Eiger’s deadly North Face?’

‘I was kidding about that.’ Until he had more Alps experience, anyway.

‘Like you’re fine when you, you—’ she flung a frustrated arm towards the rain ‘—when you wrestle with maniacs in the street.’

His groan was half growl. ‘Eden, please—’

‘You don’t shy away from danger, risk, adventure,’ she went on. ‘While I, on the other hand, am a big fan of silly things like safety, security, predictability. It was nice while it lasted, Devlin. Really nice. But let’s face it…’ Her green eyes glistened and her voice lowered. ‘I wasn’t exciting enough for you. We’d drifted apart even before you left for Scotland that day.’

The pain and regret in her eyes faded before resignation dropped like a mask over her face once again. She dragged in a breath and, as if they’d been discussing the weather, inspected the sky. ‘I think the rain’s easing off.’

His arms knotted over his wet thumping chest.

Not so quick.

‘We’re not finished.’

‘We were finished three years ago.’

He measured her with his eyes. She appeared reconciled, but he saw the way her chest rose and fell beneath that designer dress, the way she bit her lip as she angled her face away.

Five days a week he sat behind a desk, organising specialist crews to tackle handson tasks associated with offshore rigs. So what was wrong with getting outdoors and amongst it himself when he could? He wanted to live life, damn it, not stand back and watch the world go by.

Why couldn’t Eden get that about him? They’d always been so in tune in other ways. They’d laughed at the same things, liked the same food, enjoyed the same music. They were explosive in the bedroom. And, as far as being distant before he’d left was concerned…

He ground his back teeth and rearranged his feet.

There was that one episode…the morning when she’d sat parked at the end of his kitchen counter, dressed in his Raiders tee, pink fluffy slippers on her feet, flipping through a jewellery catalogue. She’d looked up, wound some golden hair behind an ear and murmured, ‘Hey, babe, whatchoo doing?’ Then she’d sent over an angelic wanna-take-me-back-to-bed smile. If she’d been checking out necklaces or earrings in that catalogue, broaches or bracelets or charms—

But diamond rings…?

He winced at the same time a phone buzzed. Eden collected her cell, then the BlackBerry on his belt sounded.

While he listened to his voicemail, Eden read a text then carefully put her phone away. Her dazed look must have matched his own.

‘That text was from Sabrina,’ she murmured. ‘She wants me to meet her.’

‘Mine was from Nate. He said the same.’

She hunted down his gaze. ‘To meet him at a city hotel?’

She named the place and he nodded. ‘Nate said he had some important news to share.’

She visibly paled. ‘You don’t think they’ve done something foolish?’

‘Like get married?’

‘Like get pregnant.’

Devlin’s surroundings seemed to darken, tunnel, then caved in.

Given the brothers’ family history, a quickie wedding didn’t seem likely. Marriage certainly didn’t feature anywhere near the top of Devlin’s personal agenda. However, if Nate had exchanged vows after six short weeks, the move was far from fatal. If sweet turned to sour, there was always divorce, an option his parents should’ve considered before pushing ahead and having two kids.

But if Nate had got this girl pregnant—if Sabrina was carrying Nate’s baby—that was sacrosanct. As far as responsibility and duty went, there was no middle ground where a child was concerned. A man had to be there for his own flesh and blood. Nate would appreciate that fact.

Again employing his jacket as a makeshift umbrella, Devlin dashed out into the lashing rain and lunged off the pavement to stop a slow-moving cab. As the yellow pulled up, he signalled Eden over. She bolted towards him, kicking up water as her heels smacked the puddles.

But when he opened the passenger door, she hesitated, her hair glued to her scalp, lashes heavy with rain, that dress shrinking before his appreciative eyes.

‘Maybe I should get the next one,’ he heard her say over the torrent.

Now they were out of that cubbyhole they’d sheltered in, she didn’t want to be close to him? She didn’t trust him. Or was it that Eden didn’t trust herself?

Done with the tippy-toe show, he flung his jacket into the back of the cab then stood tall, hands low on hips, legs braced apart. ‘I have a better idea. Why don’t we just get this over with?’

Her brow furrowed as rain sped down her cheeks and curled around her chin. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I think you do.’

She scoffed. ‘You think you know everything.’

‘Let’s say I’m working on it.’

He stepped into the space separating them, drew her against his chest and, before she could object, he kissed her—deeply, passionately and without a hint of mercy. And, at long last, he had his answer.

Because Eden stiffened, shivered.

Then she kissed him back.

CHAPTER TWO

THE heady sensation of Devlin’s mouth moving over hers had the same effect as a defibrillator igniting a stalled heartbeat.

Electric. Life-giving.

Essential for survival.

Somewhere in the back of her whirling mind, Eden knew they stood on a pavement, in the middle of a downpour, smack-dab in the centre of Sydney. But, like a billowing mist, the memory of everything that had come before grew hazy. All she knew—all she wanted to know—was the natural high humming through her blood, the jet of flames leaping from his body directly to hers.

As his big hot hands wove along her shoulders to cup her wet face, her mind’s eye saw his broad shoulders looming over her. Helpless to fight against the tide, she gripped his soaked shirt as burgeoning desire thickened and ached in her throat.

His palm scooped around her nape and gently tugged her hair until her mouth opened more. He kissed deeper, stepped closer. When the solid ridge trapped inside his trousers pressed against her belly, her pelvic floor pulsed with burning want. Three years without his caress…all those nights spent alone…

Way too good.

Way too long.

His touch slid down to settle firmly on the small of her back as the edge of his tongue swept around hers and Eden melted more. But when a satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, a sliver of doubt feathered up her spine and a single word whispered through the fog. She didn’t want to listen, but she heard it anyway.

Danger…

Her fingers dug into his hard chest one last time before she groaned and wrenched herself free. Once she’d been in love with Devlin, but at least she’d walked away with her dignity intact.

Where was her dignity now?

Out of breath, she dragged the drenched hair off her face and glanced around. Most people were either dashing from the downpour or had already found shelter. No one seemed concerned with the demonstrative couple kissing in the rain. That didn’t mean Eden wasn’t horrified, at herself more so than Devlin.

He didn’t want to own up to the fact that he’d become restless of her company three years ago. He certainly wouldn’t acknowledge why he’d kissed her now. This very public embrace was no more than a display. By subduing her here, he got to reclaim a portion of the power he’d lost when she’d ended the affair.

Devlin abhorred losing, even someone he’d grown tired of.

‘I’ll take this cab with you,’ she said in a breathy voice. ‘But if you touch me again—even one finger—’

His smiling eyes simmered more. ‘Yes, Eden?’

‘When I meet your brother, I’ll do what I wanted to do from the start.’ Her throat convulsed and she paused to swallow. ‘Tell him exactly what I think.’

Devlin’s penetrating gaze didn’t change. He wasn’t listening. Was it imagination that he’d moved close again?

With her body still burning for him, she bunched a hand by her side.

Damn it, he needed to back off—now!

She grabbed at the only weapon that flew to mind. ‘Devlin, if you try to kiss me again I swear I’ll not only tell your brother he’s a pleasure-seeking brat, a two-bit playboy turned cradle snatcher, but I’ll do it in front of as many cameras as I can. If I’m loud enough, it might even stir up a few paternity suits.’

Devlin’s head kicked back. His dark lashes, clumped with water, blinked twice. ‘You’d purposely bring reporters into their relationship? You’d hurt your sister like that?’

‘You have it wrong. I don’t want to see anyone hurt, least of all my sister.’

Swinging around him, she scooted inside the cab, finally out of the rain. Following, he closed the door with a heavy smack. He grumbled the address to the driver, a friendly man, who chatted about the shocking weather and the monsoon season in India, while she and Devlin each glared out of their respective windows.

She didn’t argue when Devlin settled the fare; rather she marched ahead into the hotel’s opulent soaring foyer. He caught up and when they reached the marble-and-gold-rimmed reception desk, soaked to the bone, she let Devlin do the talking. She was still shaking like a half-formed jelly inside.

Although she was less than proud of herself, thank God her bluff had worked. While she doubted Nathan Stone worried a jot over his bad-boy image, Devlin loathed the press. Couple that dislike with his highly protective streak and threatening Nathan’s interests had seemed the only surefire way to have Devlin back off.

On a basic level, Eden couldn’t cheapen Devlin’s commitment to his brother. She, too, was fiercely protective of those she loved. There wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do to keep Sabrina safe.

At the reception counter, Devlin drove that hand through his slick pitch-black hair as a young woman sped up.

The ponytailed blonde in a crisp olive-green uniform seemed eager to please. ‘How can I help, sir?’

‘Put me through to Nathan Stone’s room.’

Miss Ponytail’s hazel eyes rounded. ‘Are you Devlin Stone?’When he nodded, she handed over a key card. ‘The other Mr Stone asked that I give you access to his penthouse suite.’

Inspecting the card, he muttered a curt thanks and Eden followed his long purposeful strides to the lifts. Riding to the top floor, Devlin broke their suffocating silence.

‘Whatever’s said, you won’t make a scene,’ he announced in a lethal tone.

‘I’ll be as cool as a cucumber,’ she replied, feeling anything but. ‘If they’re married or pregnant—’ she shuddered but accepted the unacceptable ‘—I’ll be nothing but supportive.’

His tone was sardonic. ‘But you’ll be less than thrilled.’

She straightened the drenched line of her dress. ‘I want my sister to be happy. I’m far from convinced Nathan Stone can do that.’

‘You’re condemning him without a trial.’

‘The media have done a thorough job of that already.’

His growl resonated off the mirrored lift walls. ‘The paparazzi dig for sensationalism and if they can’t find any, they make it up. A wealthy young man is a prime target—’ his voice deepened ‘—as you’ve already made clear.’

The lift door whirred open and she walked out ahead of him, lamenting, ‘Oh, the burdens of the rich and famous.’

Devlin might have dematerialised and reappeared, he whipped around and cut her off so quickly. His dark eyes glared down at her, more thunderous than this afternoon’s sky.

‘You’re angry with me for kissing you,’ he said with frightening control. ‘I can’t regret doing it. I won’t deny I want to do it again, but I suspect that’s due more to mindless adrenaline than any charm on your part. But let me assure you, I won’t touch you again. I have my answer, so you can drop the snarky attitude.’

With her blood draining to her toes, she could only utter, ‘Your answer?’

His stormy eyes roamed her face before he yanked loose the knot at his throat and, after a tense moment, stepped aside.

‘You convinced me, okay? I’d always wondered. But, however it happened, whatever lay behind it, I should’ve been fine with you walking away. Case closed.’

The crimson carpet tilted beneath her feet. If he hadn’t already walked on ahead she might’ve grabbed his arm for support. First he’d been charming, then seductive, and now fierce followed by dismissive. This latest reaction suited her fine. Her performance had turned him off. He wouldn’t touch her again, even if he wanted to.

Shoring up her inner strength, she willed the light-headed tingles away and moved forward.

Devlin rang the bell, ripped free his loosened tie, then rapped his knuckles on the wood. With no answer, he swiped his card and pushed in the door. ‘Nate, you here?’

Eden followed him inside.

With the air-con cooler in the suite, she was reminded of her saturated clothing. Her teeth began to chatter as she searched around the sumptuous furnishings, a foreground to elaborate scarlet and beige window dressings.

‘Sabrina. Honey, it’s Eden. Where are you?’

Devlin scanned the room then strode to a polished timber table and swept up a note slanted against a tall vase of lilies. When his hand lowered and his face hardened, Eden hurried over.

‘What is it?’ she prodded. ‘What does it say?’

‘They needed to go out.’ He stuffed his tie in a pocket. ‘They’ll be back by five.’

Eden held onto the table edge. ‘That’s two hours away. What are we supposed to do until then?’

‘Hopefully not kill each other.’

They both must’ve had the same thought—to see if there was any possibility that their siblings might return earlier. She dug out her cell phone as Devlin dived on his. They dialled and, after a few seconds, both rang off.

‘Sabrina’s phone isn’t on,’ she said.

‘Neither is Nate’s.’

‘We could meet back here at five?’

He tossed his phone and wallet on the table then, with a casual fluid gait, moved towards some adjoining double doors. ‘You go ahead.’

She took an automatic step forward, then back. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To have a warm shower, organise my clothes to be express cleaned, then wait for my brother to arrive.’

Eden flinched. Sabrina and Nathan might arrive before five. She needed to be here to support her sister. What if Sabrina were pregnant and Nathan’s reaction to the news hadn’t been all honey and roses? What if Nathan had asked her to marry him and Sabrina wanted her big sis-ter’s blessing?

Or advice?

Spending more time alone with Devlin was anathema to her personal ethos—safety first. But what option did she have?

Leaning on the table, she slipped off a shoe and glanced dejectedly around. ‘This is a big place. We don’t exactly need to bump into each other.’

With his frame filling the doorway, Devlin rotated to face her, his smile a combination of blatant sex appeal and ice. ‘Rest assured, Eden, I’ll make a point of it.’

The bedroom door slapped shut.

Devlin strode into the enormous bedroom suite and slashed both sets of fingers through his hair.

Damnation! That woman could get under his skin—even when he knew darn well her threat had been an empty one.

She might be determined and dedicated—she wanted what she thought was best for her sister—but Eden wasn’t without scruples. Whether or not she bought into the beat-ups that depicted Nate as some kind of amoral hotshot playboy, she wouldn’t call the media hounds out simply because big brother had skipped the double talk and gone straight to the heart of the matter. Or was Eden forgetting that she’d kissed him back?

Cocking a brow, he released a cufflink.

Boy, had she kissed him back.

Which finally gave him closure on his long-unanswered question.

Eden was still attracted to him—at least physically, he amended, crossing the room. She hadn’t returned his calls three years ago, but not because she hadn’t wanted to. She’d seen the writing on the wall and had decided to walk before he’d done the walking.

Unbuttoning his shirt, Devlin sank onto the edge of the king-sized bed and heeled off his sodden shoes.

She’d been wrong. He hadn’t been about to cut her off—even if he could admit now that, yes, perhaps he had contemplated cooling things a degree or two. After diamond rings, a woman wanted wedding bands. He hadn’t been ready for a stroll down the aisle.

His position hadn’t changed.

His father had married too soon and had never accepted his family-man status. As a tyke, Devlin hadn’t understood why his dad stayed late at the office every night. ‘He’s a busy man,’ his mother would say gently when she tucked her little son in. ‘Go to sleep now. You’ll see Daddy tomorrow.’

Devlin had thought his mother the most beautiful woman on earth. Who could blame his father for jumping the gun and sweeping her off to the chapel? A quietly spoken angel with a warm loving smile who, as far as a young Devlin could tell, existed in a separate world he was rarely able to penetrate.

When Nate had come along, the boys had kept each other company while their mother had spent more and more time alone, usually in a darkened room. ‘I have a migraine,’ she’d tell the nanny. ‘Make sure the boys do their homework before going to bed.’

Headaches? Or had his mother simply hidden away from more companionless days while her husband’s days—and nights—were splashed across the tabloid pages?

Grunting, Devlin discarded his shirt.

His father had not only married too soon, his father shouldn’t have married at all.

But, the past was past, he reminded himself, grabbing the side table’s receiver and punching in Housekeeping’s number. He and Nate hadn’t even discussed their less-than-perfect upbringing, although his brother must’ve felt the same unhealthy undercurrent in the family dynamics. That was why, if this afternoon’s meeting was in honour of a quickie marriage, the maths didn’t add up. Or was it as Eden suspected and Nate had gone and got his girl pregnant?

Having organised for his clothes to be collected, Devlin stripped off his trousers and stood face up under a strong steamy shower for five revitalising minutes. He was lashing a towel around his hips when the doorbell sounded. Shoving his wet clothes into an in-house laundry bag, he strode out of the bedroom and headed for the door.

‘Hold up!’

At Eden’s voice, he wheeled back and drank in the pulse-racing sight—diminutive Eden draped in a thick oversized courtesy robe, a white towel turbaned on her head, Leaning-Tower-of-Pisa style. What he could see of her bare legs revealed tanned silky-smooth skin. Each perfect toenail was painted a provocative red. Her heart-shaped face was scrubbed clean of make-up and as his gaze licked her lips—pink and full—he swore he tasted the raw honey he’d sampled earlier in the rain.

Wild and wickedly sweet.

Bare feet sinking into the plush white carpet, she presented her own laundry bag.

‘Here’s mine.’ She waited for his response, then slanted her head, catching the toppling turban. ‘Devlin, are you going to get the door?’

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her mouth. And more than the mere sight of her sparked his imagination. The way she smelled didn’t help one bit—fresh…natural.

Good enough to eat.

Devlin flexed his free hand and, suppressing a groan, swung open the door.

They needed to get their clothes back—fast.

A lanky bell-hop took both bags. ‘When do you want these back, sir?’

‘Yesterday,’ Devlin growled under an overload of frustration, ‘and hurry up.’

The boy’s eyes popped. ‘I’m, er, not sure that…’

‘He means as soon as humanly possible,’ Eden explained amenably.

The boy’s mouth twitched on a nervous smile. ‘Within the hour, okay, ma’am?’

She reached to close the door. ‘That’ll be fine.’

Alone again, they eyed each other as white-hot energy buzzed and skipped between them. Compressing her lips into a determined line, Eden wrapped the bulky robe more firmly over her breasts. As if that weren’t enough, she yanked on her robe’s sash.

‘Pull that sash any tighter,’ he said, forcing himself to stroll away, ‘and you’ll cut off your circulation.’

She made an indignant sound. ‘At least I’m not parading around, showing off my bare chest.’

Folding his arms—accentuating that chest—he rotated back. ‘My body bothers you?’

Best he could remember her favourite game had been trailing the tip of her tongue down his centre, reaching the toe-curling point where she’d run a slow circle around his navel. Then she’d climb again, drawing a wet line around each of his nipples while raking her nails down his shoulders and sides. Driven out of his mind, he would finally roll and pin her beneath him. Then it was his turn to play.

Perhaps Eden had read his eyes—had guessed his smouldering thoughts—because her cheeks pinked up more and she shrank away.

‘You could stride around buck naked,’ she declared, pulling that sash again, ‘and it wouldn’t make a scrap of difference to me.’

He coughed a dry laugh. ‘You’re so certain.’

She strolled towards the enormous semi-circular lounge. ‘I won’t dignify that with a response.’

‘Then maybe we should put your assertion to the test.’

She swung back, fear and dreaded desire shining in her eyes. ‘I warned you, Devlin. Don’t try to rattle me.’

One side of his mouth curved up. ‘Rattle wasn’t the word that sprang to mind.’

After sauntering past her, he swallowed a self-admonishing groan and clamped his eyes shut.