Mated To The Devil (12 page)

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Authors: Eve Langlais

BOOK: Mated To The Devil
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She thought about hiding in the bedroom assigned her until morning or even crawling back into bed with Jacques, using him as a shield, but that smacked of cowardice. She’d promised herself to face her fears, and that involved confronting the man who’d brought her to this point. Despite the words they’d exchanged earlier, so much remained to be said. Decided. Figured out.

“Everything okay?” Remy asked, his soft query startling her from her reverie.

“I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

“A lot has happened. You can go to bed if you want.”

“Don’t you want to talk some more? I kind of shut you down earlier, but I guess we can’t avoid it forever.”

He smiled at her, a tender smile that melted her insides. “We can talk about the future when you’re ready, which I sense you’re not. And like you said, we need time to get to know each other. For now, it’s enough that you’re here with me. That you’re both protected.”

A shiver went through her. “Pierre told you about those thugs?”

He nodded, his countenance darkening. “He did. You don’t have to worry anymore. You and Jacques are safe.”

“Are we, though? What if those men find us?”

“They won’t,” he promised, the vehemence in his tone startling her, but not as much as the fact his eyes began to glow in that eerie fashion she recalled from so long ago.

“Your eyes,” she murmured.

He blinked and turned his head. “I’m sorry. I usually have better control, but the idea of you and Jacques being in danger brings out the beast in me.”

“Do you actually change into a-a—”

“Wolf? Yes, but it’s not spontaneous, if that’s what you’re worried about. I tend to let my furry side out on the full moon when he’s strongest and occasionally when I need to go for a run and work off some steam.”

“This is so strange.”

“And I’m not making it better talking about things you’re not ready for. So, let’s change the subject for now. What else do we need to buy other than Froot Loops®?”

“Oh, you don’t need to buy anything special,” she hastened to say. “Jacques will eat whatever you have for breakfast. He’s really not that picky.” He couldn’t be on the grocery budget she had.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Being so damned accommodating. I want you to tell me what you want. What you both want.”

You.
The word almost slipped out, and fearful it still might, she spun on her heel and hurried to scramble down the stairs, hoping for a chance to regain her composure. Remy followed.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just . . . ” Words failed her as she tried to explain how his simple offer meant more than he realized. How long had it been since someone had come to their aid because they wanted to and not because the government paid them to do a job looking after low-income single mothers or because they wanted something in return? She couldn’t explain it, and instead tears filled her eyes and overflowed.

“Oh, shit. No, please don’t cry. Fuck. I am such an idiot.”

She shook her head but couldn’t speak. Embarrassment at her breakdown made her want to flee. But she lacked the willpower to leave him.

A rough thumb brushed at the moisture on her cheeks. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry for everything. I’m going to make it up to you, to both of you. Please let me.”

She wanted to say
yes
—oh, did she ever—but fear wouldn’t let her. She couldn’t handle having her heart broken. And she definitely wouldn’t allow Jacques’ heart to be broken.

Strong arms wrapped around her and tugged her against a chest that was just as hard as she recalled. The spicy scent of soap and man tickled her nose as she blubbered against his clean shirt. What an idiot she must appear. How could he want her? More like he pitied her. Look at her, sobbing all over him like some crybaby. She took deep, shuddering breaths, willing herself to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what? You’ve led a hard life these last few years, and it’s normal to need to let off some steam. And I’m not helping things being pushy.”

“You’re not pushy.”

“Yeah, I am, which is why I’m going to step away from you before I kiss you senseless.”

Her lips parted in surprise at his words. Why on earth would he want to kiss her? Snotty nosed, her eyes red-rimmed, and her face splotchy, she’d seen her reflection after a pity party enough times to know any ounce of attraction she owned disappeared. She stared at him, her chest still heaving for breath.

He stared at her with glowing eyes, and for the first time, she noticed how pretty they were. Golden lights flecked with dark and adorned with sinfully thick lashes.
How could I ever have compared him to a devil?
More like a tempting angel.

A growl rumbled forth from him. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” His bedroom? The train of her thoughts shamed her, yet she couldn’t stop the tingling excitement.

“The grocery store, where I might stand a chance of keeping my hands to myself.”

“Oh.” The answer both elated and disappointed her. “What about Jacques?”

“My dad is here. He’ll keep an ear open for him, and trust me, he’s got good ones. I never did manage to sneak out when I was young no matter how quiet I was.”

As if hearing his name conjured him, Pierre appeared out of the kitchen. “Go out. Your boy will be fine. I’ve got Remy’s cell number if I need you.”

“Thank you.” She followed Remy as he turned on a heel and strode from the house, pausing only at the door for a moment to slip on her shoes.

Outside, they headed straight for a big pickup truck. Remy held open the door and she clambered in the passenger side to discover just a long bench for seating.

It would be so easy to slide over and . . .

Do nothing. They weren’t a couple and not even one day here and already she couldn’t help the sinful thoughts that got her into trouble in the first place.
Although my path into temptation gave me my greatest gift.

That type of thinking led to madness. She huddled on her side of the truck, clenching her hands in her lap, internally reciting a prayer, which did nothing to dim her awareness of Remy in the close confines of the cab. She tried staring out the window, but her gaze kept straying to his hand on the knob shifter. His big, strong, capable hand. A shiver went through her when erotic visions of what those hands could do filled her mind.

Again, she heard his soft growl and she raised a startled gaze to meet his. “Do you know what you do to me when you look at me like that?”

She shook her head.

He sighed. “I was afraid of that. You are innocent in so many ways, baby.”

“Not that innocent. I had a child out of wedlock.”

“And I’ll bet you’ve never been with another man since.”

A part of her wanted to say
“Yes, I’ve been with dozens,”
just to prove him wrong, but sanity made her tell the truth. “No. You were the only one. It’s not that I haven’t looked,” she hastened to say. “It’s just, I have Jacques to think of, so I don’t want to just jump into a relationship.”

“You belong to me.” The words were almost spit he enunciated each one so distinctly. “I’m sorry. That sounded so caveman.”

No, it sounded just right.
She didn’t answer.

“I think we need to change the subject, because the thought of you with another man is making me and my wolf go a little crazy.”

“Why?” Surely, he wasn’t admitting to jealousy?

“You are one sexy woman, Mina Leblanc.”

Me? Sexy?
She couldn’t help her lips from curving into a pleased smile. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” Her grin widened at his mock chagrin.

“Not too bad? You wound me, baby.”

She laughed. “I doubt it. I think you have more than enough ego to recover.”

“I don’t know. I might need some convincing.”

“What happened to taking it slow?”

“I am or else you’d already be on my lap helping me steam up the windows.”

“Oh.” She gasped the syllable as she pictured it, craved it even.

He groaned. “Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought. Stop looking so darned delicious.”

Mina didn’t say a word but couldn’t help the pleasure warming her at his look and words.

Remy groaned again. “Fuck me. Sorry. I guess I need to watch my language more now if I’m going to show you I’m the right man to have in your life and if I’m going to be a good example to our son.”

“I don’t mind. Believe me, we’ve heard worse.”

“You might not mind, but I do.”

The drive to the store was finished in silence. Remy slid the truck into a parking spot and before she’d finished undoing her seatbelt, he stood at her door ready to help her out. Hands on her waist, he lowered her to the ground, making her aware of every inch of his body.

“Thanks.”


My pleasure.
” He cleared his throat. “Let’s buy some food so we can spend the rest of this week at home getting to
know
each other.” The promise in his words just increased the heat in her body, a heat that threatened to burn the clothes off her body once he clasped her hand in his as they entered the store.

Almost ten thirty at night and the place seemed bereft of people, only a lone cashier raising her head to look at them as she flipped through a magazine. Remy released her hand to grab a cart.

“Okay, baby, I’ll push and you throw whatever strikes your fancy into the buggy.”

“What if I want caviar or lobster?” she asked, trying to break his seductive spell as she reminded herself not to fall for his irresistible charm.

“Toss them in but don’t forget the crackers for the first and the butter for the second.” He grinned at her snort.

“I think I’ll stick to the more basic meats.” She tossed the family-sized pork chop package in the cart, along with the ground beef on sale. She could make several meals for everyone out of that if she was careful.

She went to walk away but noticed Remy didn’t follow. He shook his head and began to throw in more meat: a large roast, an even bigger ham, steaks, and not the cheap, thin kind. Her eyes widened. “That’s a lot of meat.”

“Carnivores like their meat, baby.” He winked, and she’d seen enough television shows to gather his meaning. She blushed and ducked her head.

“I see. What about vegetables?” she asked to change the direction of her thoughts.

“The more, the merrier.”

And so it went, her shopping as she usually did, sparingly, while he tossed item after item in after hers. When it came to cereal he didn’t just get Froot Loops®, he snagged some Cap’n Crunch® and Honeycomb®, too. As for cookies, she didn’t even want to imagine the sugar rush her son would suffer if he tried to sample one of each box that Remy insisted they grab.

Food wasn’t the only thing Remy bought either. He snagged a bottle of expensive bubble bath and at her arched look said, “Because mommies need relax time, too.”

A bath by herself? She’d never enjoyed that privilege even when she lived at home. As for nowadays, she tended to have a little cannonball dive in whenever she put in the plug.

As they loaded the bags into his truck, the bed of it sporting a tonneau cover, she couldn’t help comparing their shopping experience to her carefully itemized list that needed to stretch for as many meals as possible. More remarkable than the amount and quality of food, though, was the companionship. She would have never characterized the simple act of doing groceries as an intimate moment, yet Remy made it so. From his simple touches on her waist, her hand, and arm to his smiles mixed with smoldering looks, he made the mundane into something sexy. That or she’d completely lost her mind and was seeing things that didn’t exist.
Or as mother would say,
courting sin
.

Was it truly sinful, though, to want to spend time with the father of her child? To want a normal family life? Love . . . ?

He didn’t question her pensive silence on the way back, but he did take hold of her hand and tuck it under his on the shifter. Shoot her for being the world’s most pitiful idiot, she enjoyed it.

Once back to the house, he shooed her inside and told her to start unpacking the bags while he carried them in. Bemused, mostly because she didn’t have the slightest clue where anything went, she did her best, opening cupboards to explore. Pierre came in while she stared at the pantry looking for a spot to cram the many cereal boxes Remy snagged.

“How did it go?” she asked, wedging the container in. “Jacques didn’t wake up?”

“Nope. Sleeping like a babe. I was wondering, though, would you mind if I took the boy with me to work tomorrow and showed him off?”

His question took her by surprise. “But won’t people think it’s strange you’re suddenly showing up with him?”

Pierre’s lips straightened into a stubborn line she was starting to recognize. “I’m not hiding my grandson in a closet.”

“What will you say?”

Pierre shrugged. “That it’s none of their damned business.”

“Where do you work?”

“I’m the county sheriff.”

His announcement startled her. “Truly? And do you drive a car with flashing lights and sirens?”

It became Pierre’s turn to look startled. “Why?”

Remy answered as he came in with the last of the bags. “Because your grandson will be most impressed if his granddaddy turns them on and drives a little too fast like you’re chasing bad guys.”

A smile spread across Pierre’s face. “I think that can be arranged.”

“But only after I have breakfast with my boy and take him to buy the hockey stick I promised. I’ll give you a call when he’s ready for you to pick him up in the cruiser.”

Warmth enveloped Mina at the beaming smile on Pierre’s face, his evident pride and joy at spending time with his new grandson a beautiful thing to see, especially after her parents’ rejection.

“I better go polish my badge,” Pierre announced before leaving them alone.

Remy came to stand in front of her. “Uh-oh, what’s the sad face for?”

“Hmm. Sorry. I was thinking about how different your dad is compared to mine.”

“In what respect?” Remy casually asked as he put away the things she’d not found a place for.

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