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Devil in a Dark Blue Suit
Robyn Grady
Unfinished business! When Eden Foley walked out of millionaire playboy Devlin Stone's life, she vowed it would be for ever. He knew just how to make her tremble with desire, but he was dangerous! Now, forced to contact Devlin, Eden is stunned ; he wants to pick up from where they left off. Even worse, her traitorous body seems to agree!Will one night with Devlin mean she can finally move on with her life. . . ? Or has this devil in a dark blue suit got other, more pleasurable plans in mind?


Damnation, what was it about this woman?
Her exceptional figure? Her sharp wit? That glossy honey-blonde hair?
Yes, yes and yes. And something more. Something that gnawed at him whenever he woke and wondered in the still dead of night.
The remnants of a need to tame her?
No, submission wasn’t the prize. He’d never had the desire to tame any woman—only enjoy them. Spoil them. In his younger days the world had seemed full of alluring possibilities. Then his offshore oil and gas support company had taken off and he’d met Eden—a woman who possessed the contradictory seeds of both natural innocence and darkest temptation…a curious and, as it had turned out, addictive combination.
Time to face facts. The memory of that woman still had him by the horns, and that was far from acceptable. But there was a remedy—one simple answer to one simple question. When he had that he could put that nameless ghost to bed and Eden Foley out of his mind for good.
Dear Reader
Some couples are meant to be. Scarlett and Rhett, Carrie and Big, Edward and Bella. Some people, however, are still searching for their Mr or Miss Right, and oftentimes the search isn’t easy. Who wouldn’t give their eye teeth simply to lose themselves in a Garden of Eden with the man of their dreams? Imagine it…endless lazy days amid heavenly surrounds spent with your one-time true love.
Fashion designer Eden Foley has the opportunity to do just that. She’s found her Mr Right—not once, but twice. Only second time round she won’t forget that while Devlin Stone’s special brand of attention is bone-melting it’s also regulated by his adventurous lifestyle. And she’s not willing to have her heart broken again. But physical attraction is a curious thing. In some instances it’s downright undeniable. I mean, who hasn’t wondered if it’s possible to hold onto their own personal piece of paradise for longer than one day? Let alone a lifetime?
Hope you enjoy DEVIL IN A DARK BLUE SUIT. I had such a fun time writing it!
Best wishes
Robyn
One Christmas long ago, Robyn Grady received a book from her big sister and immediately fell in love with Cinderella. Sprinklings of magic, deepest wishes come true—she was hooked! Picture books with glass slippers later gave way to romance novels and, more recently, the real-life dream of writing for Mills & Boon.
After a fifteen-year career in television, Robyn met her own modern-day hero. They live on Australia’s Sunshine Coast with their three little princesses, two poodles and a cat called Tinkie. She loves new shoes, worn jeans, lunches at Moffat Beach and hanging out with her friends on eHarlequin. Learn about her latest releases at www.robyngrady.com and don’t forget to say hi. She’d love to hear from you!
Robyn also writes for Desire™!

DEVIL IN A DARK BLUE SUIT
BY

ROBYN GRADY


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)
With thanks to Qantas pilot, Bruce ‘Ramjet’ Rattle.
And my editor, Kimberley Young,
for helping me to achieve my best every time.

CHAPTER ONE
THE almighty crack of shattering glass sent Eden Foley’s heart shooting like a bullet to her throat. ‘Flight or fight’ reflex pushed her to her feet as the Swarovski chandelier seemed to jingle overhead and the entire room jostled and gasped.
Good Lord! Had someone dropped a bomb on Sydney central?
Heartbeat racing, Eden peered out beyond the restaurant’s massive glass frontage. Outside, stooped on the footpath, a woman gripped a baseball bat. A luxury sports car parked on the kerb glistened with the litter of its smashed windscreen. Now the woman swung again, ready to go to town on the gleaming black bonnet.
Her outfit might’ve been a nightdress, floating out when she put her all into the next big blow. As a boutique owner, Eden conceded that retro florals were in this season. Bad language and gnashing teeth were not.
At the same time the bat thwacked the bonnet, a tall, impressively built man ripped around the back of the car. With an effortless motion, he wrested the weapon from the attacker. Then, to block and shield some curious passersby, he stretched out his free arm. Like the closing scene from a thriller, a police car screeched up, its high-pitched siren cranking Eden’s nerves up another notch. Two officers bounded out as the woman in her flowery garb crumpled, a sobbing mess, to the ground.
Weak with relief, Eden withered into her seat.
She knew the darkly attractive owner of that car. He was her luncheon date. A lifetime ago he’d swept her off her feet. For four blissful months she’d come alive and apart in Devlin Stone’s arms.
Although their affair had ended badly, she wouldn’t deny that they’d shared a special kind of bond—a connection a young woman with stars in her eyes had believed would last for ever. Six weeks ago Eden’s sister had fallen into a similar trap. Sabrina had begun dating Devlin’s younger brother, the well-publicised playboy, Nathan Stone.
Just as Devlin had cut Eden loose when his interest in her had waned, so too would bad-boy Nathan dump poor Sabrina when he’d had his fill of her. Hoping Sabrina would listen to reason and accept that her love affair would be short-lived was a waste of time. Having sampled the delights of a Stone herself, Eden knew from experience how hard facing facts could be. Still, Eden couldn’t—and wouldn’t—stand by and wait for her little sister’s heart to be crushed.
The only likely solution lay in appealing to Devlin’s compassionate side, asking him to speak with Nathan, as only a big brother could. Someone had to ask Nathan to let Sabrina off the hook—and now, before her emotions flew too much higher and her inevitable fall from grace hit any harder. After the torment he’d put her through, surely Devlin owed her that much.
Not that she gave a hollow hoot about Devlin Stone now.
From her seat, Eden glanced over the leather-bound menu while keeping an eye on the situation outside. His jacket flicked back, hands low on lean hips, Devlin spoke with the police officers, sometimes with a dark expression that made him look formidable, at others smiling as if he were catching up with old friends.
Devlin could charm the moon down from the sky.
Twenty minutes and two lime and sodas later, the police car pulled away. Eden had finished typing a message in her PDA—a reminder to check all her insurances were up to date—when her handsome ex walked in.
Anyone else might’ve looked dishevelled, but Devlin appeared only cool and controlled as he stopped at the desk, straightened his gold cufflinks, and ran an assessing eye over the room. Any spikes in his raven’s-wing hair were stylish and deliberate. His lidded gaze was the same intense twilight blue she remembered. How she’d melted whenever those eyes had smiled at her—she’d felt so alive and adored.
And when they’d parted…
Setting her jaw, she reached for her cold glass.
Well, when they’d parted, she’d picked up the pieces and had never looked back.
After a directive tip of the maître d’s head, Devlin wove between the tables. The flanking walls warped and shrank until he stood before her, a human tower, in more ways than one.
His features were both classically balanced yet hauntingly unique—a high forehead denoting intelligence, long straight nose suggesting inherent pride, squared-off jaw showing more than a hint of a sexy afternoon shadow. The word beautiful sprang to mind, in a mesmerising, purely masculine sense. His aura of strength and authority was so tangible, the female heads angled this way weren’t likely to resume normal viewing any time soon.
Clearly Devlin Stone was dangerous.
Hell, that was half the attraction.
‘Eden. Good to see you.’
Eden’s nerve-endings reached out and purred at the familiar cadence of his rumbling low voice. Although her heart hammered against her ribs, she managed an unaffected smile.
‘Hello, Devlin.’
‘Sorry to keep you.’He retracted his chair. ‘I was held up.’
Held up was right. Seemed women were still losing their minds over Devlin Stone—literally. The lesser part of her wanted to know the details—curiosity was, after all, a universal emotion. But Eden took the safer option: aloof good manners.
‘That looked like quite an ordeal. I’m surprised the media didn’t show up.’
His lip curling, Devlin shucked out of his jacket.
Well, well. Seemed he still disliked the paparazzi. Odd, when his brother seemed so fond of their attention.
‘If you’d rather make this another time,’ she offered. ‘Tomorrow, perhaps—’
‘Frankly, after that episode, I’m looking forward to unwinding with some pleasant company.’ Above the tug of a lazy grin, his twilight gaze darkened. ‘I’m glad you called.’
She felt her eyes widen as her insides squeezed and looped.
Hadn’t he listened when she’d called yesterday? This meeting was not about them. ‘Them’ was dead and buried. No curtain call. No for old time’s sake. He could work his charm all he liked, but she wasn’t that naïve bright-eyed young thing any more. She wasn’t here to flirt.
Devlin tipped his deeply cleft chin, beckoning a waiter who hurried over. ‘Do you have Louis Roederer Cristal?’
The shorter man’s eyes rounded in respect. ‘We do indeed, sir.’
‘Excellent. Chilled glasses, please.’
As Devlin surrendered his jacket for the cloakroom, Eden nibbled her lip. Exactly how much cloth did a tailor need to accommodate a set of shoulders like that?
‘At last.’ Devlin folded into his chair, clasped his big bronzed hands on the table and leant forward. ‘I’m all yours.’
Her grin was wry.
As if.
‘I appreciate your time, Devlin. I’d hoped we could discuss—’ Cutting herself off, she frowned and touched her cheek. He was staring. ‘Is something on my face?’
‘On your lip.’ He reached then stopped, his all-too-kissable mouth slanted at an amiable angle. ‘May I?’
Eden’s cheeks burned. Worse, so too did the tips of her breasts. She wanted to tell him to keep his hands to himself. But he’d already leaned over two sets of silverware…his thumb was already grazing the sensitive sweep of her lip…his hot fingers were already cupping her jaw…
And suddenly she was transported back to that fairy-tale summer long ago. She could hear his deep-throated laugh and her shrieks as they bumped around Luna Park’s ghost-train tracks. She could feel the butterflies brushing her tummy the first time his warm giving mouth had tasted her in his bed. Three lost years faded and melted into now…
Then his hand drew away and her eyelids drifted open. The tinkling of cutlery and aroma of sautéed greens then chocolate soufflé hauled her back the rest of the way.
‘Lime pulp,’ he explained, nodding at the slice wedged on her glass before gesturing for her to continue. ‘You were saying?’
I was saying something?
She set two fingers against her giddy forehead.
Sabrina. Nathan Stone. Heartache.
Oh, yes.
Although she cleared her throat, her voice sounded tellingly deep. ‘I wanted to talk to you about our siblings’ situation.’
‘You mean the fact they’re dating?’ Sexy creases—not quite brackets, not quite dimples—cut either side of his mouth. ‘Have you seen them together?’
‘Nathan’s collected Sabrina from the lobby of our apartment a few times, but…no, she hasn’t brought him up to meet me.’
No doubt Sabrina was worried about big sister’s reaction. Sabrina knew all about Eden’s ill-fated affair with Devlin. She’d listened to her lectures on staying away from heartless ‘love’em and leave ‘em’ types, the Stone brothers a classic case in point.
As though recalling something both wistful and amusing, Devlin chuckled and sat back. ‘From what I can gather, they’re hopelessly in love. I’ve never seen Nate like this before.’
‘They’ve only been dating for six weeks,’ she pointed out.
‘I suppose,’ he agreed. ‘How long did we date? Fourteen, fifteen weeks?’
A hot chill dropped through her centre. Sixteen weeks, two days, eleven hours, if he really wanted to know. Long enough for Devlin to fall out of love rather than into it.
She fastened her hands together on the tabletop, her knuckles turning as white as the centrepiece roses. ‘Can we please keep on track? We’re talking about my sister—an impressionable girl in her final important year of university, spending time with a man who is best known for his rave parties on Mykonos.’
‘One rave party.’ His rumbling voice held a reproving note. ‘And that was a year ago.’
‘And twelve months is such a long time.’
‘People mature.’
‘Not everyone.’ When his brow furrowed, she exhaled heavily. ‘I didn’t come here to insult you, Devlin.’
‘Of course not.’ His gaze gleamed with unadorned mischief. ‘I’d hoped it might be to confess that you’d missed me.’
Her heartbeat skipped and she coughed out a bitter laugh. He was incorrigible. Conceited. And so frighteningly close to irresistible…
She knotted her arms over her chest and studied him through narrowed eyes. ‘You really are an arrogant son of a—’
‘And you’re just as gorgeous as I remember.’
His gaze brushed her face, as intimate and thrilling as a lover’s touch. Needing to make believe the flames licking her belly were shards of ice, she sat further back in the Glastonbury chair and crossed her legs. ‘Are you going to help me or not?’
One big shoulder rolled up, then down. ‘I’m not sure I know what you want.’
Fine. She’d spell it out. ‘I want you to speak with your brother. Tell him to back off and leave Sabrina alone. She’s delicate, Devlin. Easily hurt.’ The couple at the next table slid over an enquiring glance. Reminded of their public setting, Eden tipped forward and dropped her voice. ‘If this goes on any longer, she’ll be shattered when Nathan ends their affair.’
‘Who says he’ll end it?’
She deadpanned back, ‘How about the scores of heartbroken souls he’s loved then left before now?’
Devlin held her gaze for a long considering moment as a muscle in his jaw popped. ‘Admittedly Nate’s had a few girlfriends—’
‘More than a few,’ she muttered.
‘—but you’re forgetting one thing. My brother is an adult. And your sister, I gather, is over twenty-one.’
‘Barely.’
‘We have no place interfering in their affairs.’
‘That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your flesh and blood who’ll spend months crying into her pillow every night—’
When his eyes flashed with interest, her cheeks caught light and she pressed her lips together. Way too much information.
Reaffirming the goal in her mind—to save her sister suffering the same pain she’d endured at the hands of a Stone—Eden tried again. ‘I’m asking for your help.’
His pupils dilated until the deepest blue of his eyes became black. ‘They’re not kids, Eden. It’s none of our business. It’s nobody’s business but theirs.’
At the implacable set of his jaw, she held her breath but couldn’t stop the energy and hope seeping from her body.
So, that was that. She should’ve known this was useless. Worse than useless. Devlin Stone lived for two things: his next adventure and his next seduction, in that order, which didn’t leave room for the compassion she’d hoped to find.
He’d probably instructed little brother more than once on the moves required to lay off a girl without accepting any blame. How dense to believe she might be able to talk to him. Worse, she’d put herself in this vulnerable position. He’d sent out the vibes, baiting her, testing her.
Tears born of frustration prickled the backs of her eyes.
She’d sooner scale the Harbour Bridge in a hailstorm than succumb to Devlin Stone’s magnetism again.
‘I’m sorry for wasting your time.’ She pushed up on rubbery legs and calmly collected her purse. ‘But I’m sure I’ll feel sorrier for Sabrina.’
Devlin acknowledged and immediately dismissed the overwhelming urge to grab Eden’s arm and haul her right back. She’d wanted to meet. He was here to talk. Yet ten minutes into their reunion he was watching the most exquisitely infuriating woman he’d ever known walk out on him.
Again!
Eden wanted him to step into the middle of his brother’s affairs. Tell Nate who he should or should not see. She chose to ignore the fact that Nate and Sabrina were adults, old enough to make up their own minds, whether she approved or not. She might be slightly built, but Eden Foley entertained an Amazonian mentality.
She liked to be in control.
The waiter appeared and poured the champagne. Devlin sipped, barely tasting the fruity bubbles. His thoughts were stuck on the determined set of Eden’s shoulders, the defiant passion in her apple-green eyes…
His gut muscles clenched and his line of vision darted to the restaurant’s glass frontage at the same time Eden came into view. She looked edible in that cream-and-black dress, her chin and arm lifted high as she hailed a passing cab. That yellow didn’t stop, but another would roll by soon enough. In a few minutes she’d be out of his life.
Again.
He ran a finger around his inside collar then, growling, pushed aside the crystal flute and strode towards the exit, tossing enough cash on the desk as he passed.
Damnation, what was it about that woman? Her exceptional figure? Her sharp wit? That glossy honey-blonde hair?
Yes, yes and yes.
And something more. Something that gnawed at him whenever he woke and wondered in the still dead of night.
The remnants of a need to tame her?
He claimed his jacket from the brunette at the counter, threw it over a shoulder and headed out.
No, submission wasn’t the prize. He’d never had the desire to tame any woman—only enjoy them. Spoil them. In his younger day the world had seemed full of alluring possibilities. Then his offshore oil and gas support company had taken off and he’d met Eden—a woman who possessed the contradictory seeds of both natural innocence and darkest temptation…a curious and, as it’d turned out, addictive combination.
Yesterday, when his secretary had said Eden Foley was on the line, his palm was damp by the time he’d picked up. He’d accepted Eden’s invitation and had spent a restless night anticipating their coming encounter. When he’d jumped out of that cab earlier, God help him, he’d wanted to shirk civic duty and bypass that whacko hitting a home run on some poor bastard’s car. Her husband’s car, so that officer had said.
Stepping outside, Devlin sucked in a cleansing breath while thunder grumbled overhead.
Marriage. What a racket.
He spied Eden on the footpath, raised on the balls of her sexy black heels, flagging another cab. He scrubbed his jaw and scrubbed it again.
Time to face facts. The memory of that woman still had him by the horns and that was far from acceptable. But there was a remedy, one simple answer to one simple question. When he had that, he could put that nameless ghost to bed and Eden Foley out of his mind for good.
He stopped beside her and, hands in his pockets, perused the steady stream of traffic as a cooling breeze on a muggy day combed through his hair. ‘It’s busy for a Saturday.’
She stiffened at his voice but didn’t meet his eyes. ‘Less busy than earlier. I see they’ve towed your car away.’
He did a double take. ‘You mean the crippled BMW?’ He shook his head. ‘Nice automobile, but not mine.’
She slumped on a weary sigh. ‘Devlin, I saw the woman pummel the bonnet, saw you swing around the back and lift the bat right out of her hands. Of course it was your car.’
Guess it could’ve looked that way, but, ‘I happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. There were kids on the path. Someone had to stop her. I only wish I’d known a police car was cruising by. Would’ve saved me a pile of trouble.’
Her expression changed, from annoyed disinterest to stilted comprehension. ‘Y-you didn’t know her?’
‘You think I have some crazy cousin in the family?’
‘Not a cousin…’
The penny dropped along with his jaw. ‘Oh, Eden, no. You didn’t think that woman and I were an item?’
‘All the pieces seemed to fit.’ The confusion in her eyes cleared. ‘I should’ve guessed the other explanation.’
As her words trailed, a cold splash landed on his nose at the same time the earthy scent of rain hitting hot cement rose off the pavement. He shot a glance at the churning grey sky. A heartbeat later, the heavens opened up.
Eden yelped, hunching over as icy needles pelted down. Thinking for them both, he gathered her close, threw his jacket over their heads for protection and scooted towards a shallow alcove set in the building’s façade. Tight but room enough for two.
As he shook out his jacket she let go a sorrowful wail. ‘I’m soaked!’
‘It’s not fatal. You’ll dry.’
‘Not before this outfit is ready for the trash. It’s new-season fine wool blend. Strictly dry-clean only. It was going in my window Monday morning. Hundreds of dollars, and orders besides, down the drain.’
He’d known she owned a boutique in town. Given the snippets he’d gleaned from ladies at recent black-tie functions, Temptations had built a reputation for its classy inventory. And that dress was a knockout, soaked through or not. Tasteful yet sexy, a far cry from the hip-riding jeans she’d worn—and he’d loved—when they’d first met.
Beside him, she trembled, hugged herself, and his arm instinctively went out to warm her. ‘You’re cold.’
She shied away. ‘I shake when I’m mad.’
He relaxed and hid a grin. He remembered. She shook at other times too.
‘Things could be worse.’
Pressing herself to the wall, she recrossed her arms and thinned her lips.
He laughed. ‘Oh, come on. When did you become such a sourpuss?’
‘Since your brother began dating my sister. And before you start, you’ve made your stand on that subject very clear. I’d rather not go there again.’
She was right. There was nothing more to discuss on that issue. Nate could work out his own affairs. However, confined as they were because of this downpour, now seemed an ideal time to touch on that other long overdue matter.
Devlin propped his shoulders against the wall, jacket draped over his crossed arms, and gazed casually out at the veil of teeming rain.
‘Eden, why didn’t you return my calls?’
‘You called back yesterday?’
He turned his head to stare down her Miss Innocent look. ‘I mean three years ago.’
Her green eyes cooled and she shook her head slowly. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised.’
He cocked a brow. ‘That’s not much of an answer.’
‘Here’s the rest. I shouldn’t be surprised by your unwillingness to take responsibility.’
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.
She was doing it again. Getting under his skin. Making him want her without even trying. But, no matter how strong the tug, sex—and anything remotely connected to the act—was off the table. They’d failed once. Neither of them needed to repeat history. Diamond rings and Devlin Stone were a no-go zone. Unfortunately they were stuck here together, alone, until Nate and his girlfriend arrived.
Halfway back to the bedroom, Devlin’s gait faltered.
Important news…big news…
What if this announcement wasn’t marriage or a baby, but rather an engagement? There’d be wedding rehearsals, the ceremony, speeches and playing happy families. Which meant he and Eden would need to shelve their sparring gloves for an extended period, even if the truce was all show.
This short stint of forced proximity might only be the beginning.
Rubbing the ache at his temple, he angled back.
‘Eden, I have a proposition.’
She stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, arms ravelled tightly before her, glaring out at Sydney’s spectacular cityscape, the sleek arched line of the Harbour Bridge to the left.
‘If it involves playing strip poker until the kids arrive,’ she said to the view, ‘count me out.’
‘Strip poker hadn’t crossed my mind.’ Although now she’d mentioned it…
He smothered the idea and cleared his throat. ‘I want to put something to you, something that’ll be in the best interests of your sister and my brother.’
Her wary gaze slid over. ‘Go on.’
‘Whatever’s coming, we need to be supportive.’
After a thoughtful moment, she sighed and dragged the towel turban from her head. ‘Agreed.’
‘We won’t seem too supportive if we can’t speak to each other without reaching for the closest poison-tipped spear.’
Her teeth worried her plump lower lip before she absently finger-combed her wet hair and draped the towel over a chair. ‘I guess not.’
‘Let’s at least try to get along for Sabrina and Nate’s sake. Surely it’s not that difficult. We’re mature adults.’
‘Well, I am.’ She grimaced. ‘Sorry. You’re right. This won’t do.’ She sent a brave smile. ‘I’m more than happy to put our differences aside and play nice for their sake.’
Exhaling, he put out his hand. ‘Deal?’
She stepped forward. ‘Deal.’
He took her hand. The sizzle, crackling up the cords of his arm, was the same high-voltage zap he’d enjoyed earlier when his mouth had claimed hers. When the charge reached his shoulder, crackle turned to burn, racing through his system and hitting him hard where his blood already blazed and beat.
Her eyes flashed, her breath audibly hitched. Their fingers were as good as fused, but if he didn’t let go soon they’d both be in big trouble.
If he didn’t know there’d be lasting repercussions—if he didn’t know he’d regret it—he’d make love to Eden in a heartbeat. But, even if by some miracle she agreed to succumb and satisfy this rabid sexual urge, becoming involved again wasn’t worth the drama.
Was it?
An unconscious primal impulse tightened his grip before he pried his fingers from hers. He needed to put them somewhere; his hands went to his pockets.
He shot a glance south.
Right. He wasn’t wearing trousers. More to the point, neither he nor Eden were wearing clothes. One towel, one robe, stood between him and a woman whose thrall, near or far, refused to cut him free.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he tossed a look around.
Man, he needed a drink.
Striding to the granite wet bar, he swung down a couple of wine glasses hanging from their overhead rack. ‘Want a drink?’
His throat felt drier than the Simpson.
She replied, ‘I really don’t think that’s such a good—’
His gaze shot to hers and she sucked back the retort at the same time her features softened with a convivial, almost understanding smile that said if he was fighting so hard to keep this platonic—friendly but impersonal—so would she.
‘That would be nice, Devlin. Thank you.’
Opening the fridge, he reached for champagne. Then, remembering the unfinished Cristal, he uncorked and poured domestic Chardonnay instead. A lifetime ago, champagne had been their drink. Eden would drop a strawberry into her glass and when the bubbles were gone, she’d share her fruit—one bite for her, one bite for him. He would draw the flesh into his mouth, suck the nectar from her fingers, kiss the sweet juice from her lips…
Something wet dribbled onto his toes.
Jumping back, he swore aloud. Off with the fairies, he’d over-poured the second glass. Wine had puddled on the counter, was pooling on the floor.
Of all the stupid, careless—
Eden had swung around. ‘What’s wrong?’
He muttered something about losing his grip, then joined her again. He handed over her wine, careful not to let their fingers touch this time. Putting an effort into appreciating the vibrant harbour view, he brought his glass to his lips. ‘The rain’s stopped.’
Her finger drew a curve in the air. ‘There’s a rainbow.’
A far-reaching arc of red, violet and every colour in between bowed over the giant Opera House shells, touching the glistening harbour waters either side.
Nice.
‘Did you know that the colours of a rainbow are a result of light refracted off of raindrops?’ he said.
‘That’s such a clinical way of looking at—’ She cut her jibe short and rephrased. ‘What I mean is, I’d always looked at rainbows in a magical rather than scientific light. It’s good to get the other side.’
He grinned, then softly chuckled. She was trying so hard. Trying to do the best by her sister.
His gaze veered away from the sky—spent grey streaking westward to leave newly washed blue—and settled on the equally mesmerising sight beside him.
His heart fisted in his throat.
No contest. She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered.
His next words were unintentionally husky. ‘So you believe in magic?’
Concentrating on the rainbow, she hesitated before her chin picked up. ‘Sure. Why not?’
His gaze drank her in. ‘Then you’d believe there’s a pot of gold at every rainbow’s end.’
Her brow pinched and her throat bobbed before she murmured so faintly he barely heard.
‘I believed it once.’

CHAPTER THREE
HER cheeks caught light as a withering feeling fell through her middle.
Good one, Eden. Try to sound a little more wistful and pathetic next time.
But, rather than comment on her whimsy, thankfully Devlin only turned his attention back towards the colourful view.
Still, no one could deny the heady awareness throbbing between them. Hot, alive. But different this time. Different from when they touched. This was more a swift warm current swirling around them, washing up memories of what they’d once shared…what they’d let slip away…
Loosening the grip on her glass, Eden laughed at herself.
Good grief. Next thing she’d convince herself that Devlin had actually loved her once.
As if responding to her thought, Devlin downed the rest of his glass and walked away. ‘It’s warm in here.’
The room had felt icy when they’d first entered. Now…yes, it was warm and getting warmer, despite both their efforts to keep the temperature down. But great sex—even bone-melting, unforgettable sex—wasn’t the answer.
So why did her gaze insist on trailing the broad expanse of his back as he walked off…? Why did she imagine her mouth tracing the salty heat of his skin?
Dragging her gaze away—needing to douse the tingles chasing over her flesh—she gulped down half of her drink.
They’d tried arguing, being nice. Maybe it was time to put up a wall. Quit communication altogether. Get as far away from Devlin and his maleficent magnetism as this enormous penthouse suite would allow. That wouldn’t be rude, merely smart.
After a harried search, her gaze landed on a glossy magazine. She passed a monstrous gilt mirror, a postmodernist sculpture of lovers embracing, and, at the far side of the room, swiped the heavy magazine off the coffee table. In the nick of time, she stopped from lowering into the damask couch. Too much opportunity there. Devlin might sit down beside her. Way too close for comfort.
She glanced towards the balcony.
Not in a robe.
One of the two bedrooms?
Oh, Lord, no.
Her gaze dropped.
The carpet certainly felt soft enough. She eased down onto the pile and, back against the sofa, crossed her ankles of her outstretched robe-covered legs then buried her nose in the magazine.
At the bar, Devlin topped up, but then set the glass aside.
‘I’m starved,’ he announced, as if he too had found the answer to their problem. ‘Want something to eat?’
Although she’d lost her appetite, her stomach felt empty. She really ought to eat something.
She shrugged. ‘I’ll have a salad.’
After ordering, Devlin settled down for a few minutes to do some work on his BlackBerry. When he was finished, he slid the phone back onto the polished table. In her peripheral vision, she saw him thatch his fingers behind his head. He stretched his washboard waist one way then the other before letting those impressive arms drop to his sides.
‘You look engrossed,’ he said.
She didn’t look up. ‘I always find fashion interesting.’
He wandered closer. ‘When did you open your boutique?’
‘The month after—’ She caught herself. She didn’t need to mention their break-up again. ‘A couple of years ago now.’ Three to be precise.
‘So that dress-design course paid off?’
She gave a wry smile. Actually she’d earned an advanced diploma in fashion design and technology at East Sydney College.
‘The business degree I’m doing part-time helps too,’ she told him, ‘as well as trips to Paris, Milan, New York.’
He let out a low whistle. ‘You’ve been around.’
‘If I want to compete with the top outlets, I need to.’ Although boarding a plane was always a battle, especially long international flights. Bad turbulence could make her whimper. And seeing Red Eye hadn’t helped her phobia one bit.
He piped up, ‘I thought you were afraid of flying.’
Unlike ultra-light skylarking, ‘Boarding airbuses is a necessary vocational risk.’
‘Risks can pay off.’
She finally met his gaze. ‘Risks can kill.’
In fact—
She dug her nose back into the Venetian spring fashion exclusive at the same time the doorbell rang.
Devlin set off. ‘Food’s here.’
She would have followed and, perhaps, pulled up a chair at the formal setting. But if they sat at the table, they might look into each other’s eyes, maybe accidentally touch. She shivered and brought the magazine closer to her face.
Far wiser to stay put.
Still, over the top of the pages, she cased out those remarkable muscled limbs as he sauntered towards the door, each languid movement perfectly in tune with his casually commanding style. The instant he turned back, silver-domed plates balanced in each hand, she buried her gaze again.
When he lowered her meal to where she sat on the floor, she set her magazine down. Dome removed, her appetite bit at the colourful fig, apple and pecan-nut salad. The yoghurt aioli smelled delicious. She was hungrier than she’d thought.
Devlin positioned himself on the couch, but with his back against the far cushioned arm, long legs stretched out along the seat, a club sandwich and fries on his lap.
Eden held her breath.
Maybe she should have sat at the table. In this intimate corner of the room, with the natural light barely reaching them, this seating arrangement felt far too…opportunistic.
But he seemed to be behaving himself. Given he’d made the affable gesture to join her, but not too close, jumping up now to eat at the table alone would look noticeably rude and, hopefully, unnecessary.
After a few moments of mutual munching, Devlin sucked the salt and sour cream off his thumb and noted, ‘That looks, uh, healthy.’ He offered a chip. ‘Want to try one of these?’
Her fork tapped her plate. ‘I prefer natural ingredients.’
‘Fries are natural too. Potato cooked in natural oil seasoned with natural salt. Three food groups, and I haven’t even started on the sandwich.’
A smile played around her mouth. She’d missed his dry humour…the slight burr in his speech whenever he teased through a crooked grin.
Letting her guard down a little more, she stabbed at some blue-vein cheese. They had time for a lesson in nutrition.
‘The calcium in dairy foods like cheese is terrific for healthy bones.’
His mouth twisted. ‘Mouldy cheese and I don’t get along.’
Fair enough. ‘Fruit is great for glowing skin.’ She held up a slice of apple. Then, remembering the champagne-infused fruit she used to feed him when they’d dated, she rethought the move.
But he’d already leaned forward to loosen the apple off her fork. ‘Glowing skin, huh?’ He flexed a brow. ‘How can I resist?’
He popped the slice into his mouth and slid down from the couch onto the carpet alongside her. His plate settled on the floor to his left as he chewed, swallowed, then licked his lips.
‘Nice.’ He tipped his chin at her plate. ‘And that?’
Although her stomach somersaulted and better judgement screamed to move away, she preferred to stay calm. She wasn’t a baby. She could handle Devlin Stone. She’d got him to back off earlier, hadn’t she? He knew she was serious. What was more, notwithstanding the chronic sexual pull, he didn’t want to get involved any more than she did. He was merely trying to get along for the kids’ sake.
She indicated the pecans. ‘Nuts are protein rich. They’re delicious mixed with cereal when you jump out of bed in the morning.’
‘What if you don’t want to jump out of bed? What if you want to take your time?’
She slid him an arch look. Was he being light or leading?
Looking offended, he pinned back his shoulders. ‘What? I’m only saying that I enjoy a good long stretch in the morning.’
Feeling her breasts swell, she sidled a little away. She knew very well how much he enjoyed his stretch in the morning.
He drew up his legs and angled one tanned forearm over a bare knee while he started on his sandwich. When his towel marginally slid up his athletic thigh, a pulse fluttered in her throat and she swallowed hard.
How on earth was she supposed to eat now?
After a few automaton mouthfuls—trying to keep her mind and gaze off her companion—she announced, ‘Delicious, but I’m full.’
He wiped his mouth on a napkin. ‘Me too.’ He leaned over to take more apple from her plate, then stopped to ask, ‘Do you mind?’
She forced a smile that didn’t betray how fast her heart was beating. ‘Silly to let it go to waste.’
Drawing away, he took a bite from the slice. ‘So, what’s next on the agenda?’
She smiled saccharine sweet. ‘We could see if our clothes are ready?’
He didn’t seem to hear as he slid the rest of the apple into his mouth. Resting his forearms on raised knees, he slowly chewed, seemingly lost in his thoughts, even as his eyes searched hers. Then his head dropped back and he chuckled.

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