Page 102 of My Beautiful Sin

“I’m not jealous,” I say, though I am a bit, and I’m sure he knows it. “Just feeling a little awkward. Carrie is Carrie, and we were never going to be besties. But she was still a friend, and—”

“I know. I knew it then, too. Believe it or not, that’s part of the reason I took her to New York.”

I cock my head. “Now you’re really not making sense.”

“She was the friend of a friend who lived in Manhattan. Jon. He knew I was coming up for the weekend. It was a conference for various non-profit organizations, and I’d been invited to speak. There was a formal dinner, and the expectation was I’d have a date. Carrie wanted to come visit Jon, and Anna was busy on-site with the final stages of construction. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You weren’t worried she’d recognize you?” Though none of my friends except Brandy knew that Alex and I’d had a relationship when I was in high school, they did come to the house where Alex worked. Which meant they saw him—and often commented on how cute he was.

“I didn’t worry about you, did I?” he counters. “And if anyone could see Alex beneath the mask of Devlin, it would be you.”

“It’s not a mask,” I say, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

He catches my hand, holding my palm firm against his beard and the sharp angle of his jaw. “Not now,” he agrees. “Back then, though…”

I nod. At that time, Devlin would have been about three years out of the gate from when Alex disappeared on paper and Devlin emerged from the shadowy past that Devlin’s military and intelligence friends had created for him.

“Carrie was okay with it just being a friendly trip? She always thought Alex was hot. I have to assume she’d have been even more attracted to Devlin.”

“She was,” he says.

“Which?” I’m not sure if he means she was okay with the plan or that she was attracted to him.

“Both,” he says, and we share a laugh.

“Well, I should have expected that.” When he moves so that his back is against the headboard, I straddle him, letting the sheet drop away. He cups my breasts, and I bite my lower lip, my hips undulating in a way that’s designed to entice both of us. And to signal very clearly that we’re on a break and not done for the evening.

His fingers tease my nipples as he says, “You must not want this story very badly.”

“On the contrary.” I ease down, so that his cock is nestled between my legs, then lean forward at the waist, until I’m propped up on his chest, my head tilted to look at him. “Tell me the rest.”

His hands go to my waist, then he slowly strokes the swell of my ass as he continues his story. “The first night was fine. We had dinner and appetizers with Jon. She went to her room after and I went to mine. They were connecting, but the door was closed. I spent the next day in seminars, and she spent it shopping. That night, she had drinks with a girlfriend from college. And while she was out, I did something I shouldn’t have. Something I always did when I visited New York, even though each time I knew it was a dangerous mistake.”

He meets my eyes, and my breath catches. He’d gone to see me. The realization hits me even as he says, “It was a compulsion. I couldn’t have not searched you out any more than I could have willed myself not to breathe.”

“Every time you came to New York?” My heart is beating so loud, I fear he won’t be able to hear the words.

He nods.

“And I never saw you. Or, I guess, I never knew that I saw you.”

The muscles around his mouth move, but I can’t tell if he’s fighting a smile or a frown. “I never wanted you to. But I watched you. Every time I came to the city, I found a way to watch you.” His eyes lock on mine. “That night—with Max—you saw me, but you didn’t really see.”

“I had a sense of you, though,” I tell him. “The way you moved. Walked. I don’t know. I caught a glimpse of you before the alley, and Alex was on my mind. I thought I was a little crazy, actually, but—” I cut the words off, my mind back on that horrible memory of Max and what he tried to do.

I draw a breath, forcing myself to shake it off and continue. “Afterward,” I say, then pause before starting again. “Afterward, I felt like the guy I’d seen was a guardian angel. It made sense, right? After all, for all I knew, Alex was dead.”

He winces at that.

“It’s okay,” I say. “It wasn’t then, but I have you back now.” I flash a flirty smile. “So long as this story doesn’t get too crazy, then all is forgiven.”

I regret the words the moment I see the hard glint in his eye.

“Devlin,” I say. “Just tell me. I already know she thinks you’re the devil. I want to know why.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to stay silent. Then he says, “That night—after I saw you—after I stopped Max—I went back to the hotel. I was wired. I’d killed that man. That fucker who’d wanted to hurt you. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough. I went into the room and had a couple of drinks. Slammed them back, one after the other just to dull every nerve in my body. Then I showered, wanting to wash it all away. The blood. The memories.”

I tense, scared of where this is going, but not wanting him to stop.