Shameless (7 page)

“They're calling it a marriage of convenience. He's getting a babysitter for his two kids, and she's getting a place to keep her herd of mustangs. But the way I see it, he used the excuse that he needed someone to take care of his kids to convince Eve to marry him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Truth? Connor's been in love with Eve ever since high school. Somehow he ended up married to Eve's best friend instead. Connor became a widower when Molly died in a car accident last year.”

“Do you think Eve has always had feelings for him, too?”

Devon shrugged. “Who knows? It would never have worked between them in high school because things were a lot worse between us kids in those days than they are now. Not that everything's great, but we aren't letting the air out of each other's tires anymore.” He made a face. “It's my dad who won't let this feud die.”

“So my aunts wouldn't object if they found out we were friends?” Pippa ventured.

He shook his head. “I wouldn't go that far. They'd certainly question my motives for wanting to spend time with you.”

“Meaning what?”

“They'd never believe I don't have nefarious designs on your body.”

“But you don't!” she protested with a laugh. The sound died when she met his gaze. So she hadn't been wrong. He wasn't interested in friendship, or at least, not merely in friendship.

He didn't say anything, just looked into her eyes as he swallowed a bite of chicken.

Pippa felt a frisson of awareness skitter down her spine as she stared at his mouth. She sat frozen as he leaned closer until his lips were only a breath away from hers.

She could have leaned back. She could have laughed to break the spell, or shoved at his shoulders to move him away. She could have done a dozen things to stop what happened.

But she didn't.

D
EVON KNEW HE
was taking a chance kissing Pippa, but he couldn't resist the temptation. When she leaned toward him, he simply closed the distance between them, and their lips met. She tasted sweet. He leaned back and looked into her eyes and saw a myriad of emotions. He chose to focus on the one he wanted to see, the one that invited him to lean in for another taste, another touch. She moaned, and he felt his body harden in response. Her fingertips found their way to his nape as he touched her cheek with the balls of his fingers.

He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't seem to slow his heart, which was galloping out of control. He'd never felt this way toward another woman, and he tried to slow his body down so his mind could consider what he was doing. He'd seen the yearning in Pippa's eyes for that first kiss. He couldn't have been mistaken about that. But she'd been pretty insistent about wanting a friend, not a lover.

And yet, she willingly pressed her lips against his and opened her mouth to the reach of his tongue. He palmed her breast and felt the nipple peak beneath the cloth. She gasped, and her heavy-lidded eyes slid closed.

Devon warned himself to go slow, that he might be making a terrible mistake, but her willingness made it difficult to let her go. “You're lovely,” he murmured.

His lips caressed her throat, her cheek, her eyelids, her brows, before returning to her mouth. He pressed her back against the blanket and lay down beside her so he could look into her eyes. She looked back at him with wonder.

“Devon.”

He felt his whole body tense when he heard his name spoken. She would stop him now. She would tell him that kissing him had been a mistake.

“This feels so…good,” she murmured as she stroked his hair. “You feel so…good.”

“So do you.” He slid his arm under her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace, holding her close so they were entwined, his leg between hers, her leg over his hip.

She smiled as she closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “I don't understand…”

Her voice drifted off, and he said, “You don't understand what?”

She looked up at him with troubled eyes. “How this could be happening. How I could want you so badly when I hardly know you.”

“It doesn't make sense. But I know what I feel. And I know what I want.”

She glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes. “And what is that?”

“You.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her, taking his time, enjoying the thrust and parry of their tongues. His blood heated as he pressed her softness against the hard length between his thighs. He began rolling her over onto her back, but her hair got caught beneath his shoulder.

She cried out in pain as it pulled free. And then froze, staring up at him with wide, dazed eyes. “We should stop this. Now. Before it's too late.”

He didn't say a word, just rolled away, covering his eyes with his forearm. He didn't want to acknowledge that the magic they'd just shared was over, so he didn't speak. Then he realized he needed to know what she was thinking and whether it was something he'd done that had caused her to pull away.

He sat up and met her gaze. “Pippa, I—”

“Don't say anything.”

For a moment he thought she wanted to prolong their closeness the same way he did. She sat up and thrust trembling hands through her hair, shoving it away from her face. Her eyes glistened with tears. “I'm sorry. I can't be more than a friend. If that's not enough—”

She was already up, gathering together the picnic items she'd brought.

He scrambled to his feet and said, “Pippa, slow down. Tell me what's wrong.”

The wind blew her hair across her face, where it caught on the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don't think this friendship is going to work.”

And then she ran.

Wulf had risen to his feet when Pippa did. The wolf looked from Devon to Pippa and then loped after her.

Devon could understand the impulse. He wanted to chase after her, too. But she seemed to want some distance from him—and the situation—and he figured it was a good idea to give it to her. “Wulf!” he called. “Come.”

Wulf looked back at Devon, but he sat down where he was, staring at Pippa.

Devon crossed toward the wolf, concerned that it might close the distance to Pippa's horse, which was already sidling away from the frightening canine, and completely spook it.

“Pippa, don't leave, please,” he called to her. “Let's talk. Tell me what's bothering you.”

She kicked her mount into a gallop, and Wulf leapt up and started to follow. Devon lunged and caught him by the scruff of his neck. Wulf whimpered and struggled to get free, but Devon held on. He dropped to his knees, then sat back and put his arms around the wolf's neck.

He stared after Pippa, feeling a terrible sense of loss. “She wants to go, Wulf,” he said. “We have to let her go.”

Devon was angry with himself for being impatient, for not taking the time to be sure that Pippa was ready for more than the friendship she'd said she wanted. For screwing things up royally.

He swore under his breath. Someone wonderful had just walked out of his life. Something wonderful had just been lost. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Wulf made a growling sound in his throat.

“I feel the same way,” Devon muttered. He stood and stared across the meadow, where Pippa was just disappearing into the forest. “So what are we going to do to get her back?”

I shouldn't have
let him kiss me. I should have pulled away. I should have done something to stop him.

Pippa was halfway home and she was still trembling, still shaken by Devon's kiss. His lips had been soft and supple, and his breath had been warm on her cheek. She'd gasped, and his tongue had slipped inside to taste and to tease. Pippa's whole body had tingled with awareness, and her lips had clung to his.

Her breathing had been erratic when he ended the kiss. Her breasts had felt full and achy, and her heart had caught in her throat. He'd leaned back just far enough to look into her eyes. He must have seen her shock, her confusion, her fear…and her desire.

He'd responded by kissing her again, his touch so gentle she felt like crying, and then hesitated, his lips close to hers but not quite touching, waiting for her to make the next move.

Pippa had closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his, wanting more of the tenderness he'd shown her, both terrified and exhilarated by the passion rising between them.

She'd felt his callused fingertips brush her face and reached out a hand to cup his bristled cheek as their mouths meshed again.

And she'd been lost.

Pippa looked up and realized the ranch house was around the next corner. A knot had grown in her throat, and she was fighting a sob of despair. She shouldn't have run away like that. She should have stayed and talked to Devon, explained that her life was complicated, that it wasn't anything to do with him, that she couldn't get romantically involved with anyone.

But that would have meant explaining that she was three months pregnant. That she'd been duped by a married man. That would have meant exposing her soft underbelly to someone with the power to rip out her guts.

How had Devon Flynn slipped past her defenses so quickly? How had he made her care? Why had she befriended him when she'd been so sure, after what Tim had done, that she would never be able to trust another man again?

Why, oh why, had Devon kissed her? They were supposed to be
friends.
There had been nothing
friendly
about his kiss. It had been meant to arouse her, and it had done its job.

Pippa moaned. The worst part was, if he hadn't accidentally pulled her hair as he was rearranging their bodies on the quilt, she would have given herself to him. That moment of pain had reminded her that she was vulnerable, that she could be terribly hurt.

She'd run away, closing the door to any possible relationship. She would never see Devon again. Never share her thoughts with him. Never laugh with him or see his lopsided smile again. She mourned for the lost dream of…what? Their
friendship
?

Pippa forced herself to be brutally honest. She'd been as guilty as Devon of wanting more than friendship. She'd wanted the fairy tale, the happily ever after that comes when a knight in shining armor rides up on his white charger and rescues the fair-haired maiden. But her actions in the past—her pregnancy—had made that impossible. Devon must have seen in her eyes what she'd refused to admit to herself. She wanted him.

Why hadn't she discussed what had happened with him, rather than running away? She'd cut herself off from the one friend she might have had in this place. But was there really any way to take back that kiss and be friends again?

Pippa shook her head. She didn't think she would ever forget the first touch of Devon's lips, the feel of the racing pulse in his throat against her fingertips, and the thrumming of her own heart in response. She didn't remember feeling so euphoric when she'd kissed Tim. She didn't understand how kisses from two men could be so different, feel so different.

She groaned in disgust at her behavior. She couldn't believe she'd let down her guard with Devon, couldn't believe that she hadn't stopped him before his lips had touched hers. He wasn't entirely to blame for what had happened. She bore equal responsibility.

Pippa swiped at the tears on her cheeks and eyelashes. She didn't want her father seeing them and asking questions that would require difficult answers.

She crested a rise and was shocked to see red and blue lights flashing on several police cars that were parked in the driveway of the house.

What was going on? What had happened? Had someone been hurt? Had Daddy and Grandpa King had a fight? She'd left Nathan in Leah's care. Had Leah failed to keep an eye on him?

Pippa's heart was pounding against her chest like a trapped beast trying to get out as she dismounted at the back porch, stumbled past the police cars, and crashed through the kitchen door. The two police officers standing at the sink looked startled when they saw her.

“Daddy!” she yelled, moving through the kitchen toward the north wing of the house, where her family had their suite of rooms. “Daddy! Nathan!”

“Pippa?” her father called back.

Pippa caught up to her father in the Great Room, with its cathedral ceiling, river-rock fireplace, and stunning view of the Tetons. She started to throw herself into his arms, but he caught her by the shoulders and held her at arm's length.

“Where have you been?” His voice was harsh, and his face looked ravaged.

“What happened?” she asked, terrified to hear the answer.

“Nathan is missing. He's been gone all afternoon. Where have you been? You were supposed to be watching him!”

“I asked Leah to take care of him while I went on a picnic.”

“A picnic? I hope you had a good time,” her father snarled. “Because you may have cost your brother his life.”

He thrust her away from him as she cried, “Daddy, no! He can't be gone. Where would he go?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. He's been missing for three hours.” He thrust a hand through hair that was already standing on end, as though he'd resorted to the frustrated gesture many times over the hours he'd been looking for her lost brother.

“Is a horse missing?” she asked.

He shot her a look that froze her heart. “Nathan hasn't been on a horse since the accident. But the answer is no. No horse is missing.”

“Have you searched everywhere in the house?” The house was huge, thousands of square feet, with dozens and dozens of places for a six-year-old to hide.

“We've looked everywhere. I've called out to him. If he were here, he would have answered. I've searched the perimeter of the house and the stables. I've got the police searching the grounds, in case he wandered off and got lost.”

Pippa shuddered to think what could happen to her brother if he'd wandered as far as the forest. He might freeze in the cold at night or fall victim to some marauding predator. He might survive long enough to die of thirst. The Wyoming wilderness was vast and unforgiving.

She sought some other reason for her brother's disappearance and asked, “Is there any chance Grandpa King took him somewhere?”

“King flew down to Cheyenne this morning for some business at the state capitol. He's on his way back now. Nathan isn't with him.”

“What did Leah have to say?”

Leah appeared in the doorway to the Great Room, her face bleached white, her blue eyes filled with remorse. “I am so sorry! I only meant to be gone from the house for a few minutes. But there was a problem with one of the studs in the barn, and I didn't dare leave until it was resolved. I swear I wasn't away for more than fifteen minutes!”

“Where did you last see Nathan?” Pippa asked.

“We went through all of this hours ago,” her father said irritably.

Pippa ignored her father and said to Leah, “Please, tell me.”

“He was sitting at King's desk drawing,” Leah replied.

“Did you look behind the curtains?” Pippa asked.

Leah stared at her blankly. “Why would I do that?”

“Why would she do that?” her father repeated.

“He likes to play hide-and-seek. He hides and waits to see how long it takes for someone to notice he's missing and come looking for him.”

Pippa saw the stricken look on her father's face, probably because ever since they'd moved to Wyoming he'd spent a lot more time away from the house—and from Nathan—than he used to in Australia.

The three of them hurried to King's office. The curtains were drawn back with ties and pooled elegantly on the hardwood floor at either side. Pippa ran to check one side while her father checked the other, Leah at his shoulder. Pippa lifted the heavy curtain aside and found Nathan lying there curled up, sound asleep. “He's here,” she said in a quiet voice. “He must have dozed off.”

She bent down on one knee and shook Nathan's shoulder as her father and Leah joined her. “Nathan,” she said. “Wake up.”

He rolled over, yawning and rubbing his eyes, and smiled up at her. “You found me.”

“You're too predictable, mate,” she said as she lifted him into her arms and stood. “You need to find a better place to hide.”

Before she'd taken two steps, her father had snatched Nathan from her arms and was hugging him tight. Leah held both hands over her mouth, stifling a sob of relief.

Nathan leaned back, put his hands on their father's cheeks, and said, “Were you looking for me, too, Daddy?”

“I was,” their father said in a choked voice.

“I'm glad you found me,” he said, laying his head on their father's shoulder, his arms around his neck. He yawned again and said, “I'm hungry.”

“You missed lunch,” their father said, his voice cracking.

“I'll be happy to take him to the kitchen and feed him, Matt,” Leah said, reaching out her arms.

“Thanks, Leah.”

As Pippa watched, Matt handed Nathan over to Leah. She was surprised to see that Nathan laid his head as easily on Leah's shoulder as he had on their dad's. As Leah left the room, she called back, “I'll take care of sending everyone home.”

“Thanks, Leah.” Her father followed Leah and closed the office door behind her before rounding on Pippa. “I'd like to know if you plan to pawn off your own child when it's born, the way you did your brother.”

“That's not fair! Leah promised to watch him.”

“That's exactly my point. Children need constant care and attention. Are you ready for that responsibility? You have no business keeping this child if you aren't willing to take on that obligation. Getting pregnant was your first mistake. Keeping this child—unless you're one hundred percent committed—would be your second.”

Pippa was stunned by her father's attack. “You managed by yourself. I can, too.”

“That was different. I had no choice.”

“That's not true.” Pippa was angry enough that she forgot all about protecting her father's feelings. “You could have left me with the Millers.”

Her father's jaw dropped. “How could you possibly know about them?”

“I heard you mention the name.”

“I would never—”

“You were drunk! I was worried because I heard you crying. I didn't know what to do. Who are they? What do they have to do with me?”

“They were a foster family taking care of you.”

“Why?”

“None of that matters anymore,” he said flatly. “I came and got you, and that's the end of it. I don't think—”

She interrupted him again, seeing the anguish in his eyes and determined to say everything before she lost her nerve. “You must really regret the choice you made to raise me by yourself.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you seem so determined to talk me out of keeping my baby. I'm sorry I ruined your life! I'm sorry you made the wrong choice by taking me out of that foster home. But keeping this baby is the right choice for me.”

She'd never seen an expression quite like the one on her father's face. He looked stunned.

“You shouldn't judge what you don't understand,” he said.

She held out her hands in supplication. “Then explain it to me. Tell me what happened. Why did you decide to come get me? Why did you raise me on your own?”

He opened his mouth to speak but decided against it. He rubbed his fingers on his temples as though his head ached, then leaned his hips back against his father's desk and crossed his arms protectively over his chest. At last he met her gaze and said, “I've never once regretted taking you out of that foster home. But nothing about raising you on my own was easy.”

“Then why did you do it?”

His next words seemed to be wrenched from his soul. “Because I loved your mother, and you were all I had left of her.”

She'd figured out a long time ago that her mother must be dead, or at least long gone, but that still didn't explain a lot of other things her father had done. “Why did you go so far away? Why do you hate Grandpa King so much?”

“Because he lied to me,” her father snarled, rising to his feet. “King told me your mother died when you were born and that you died with her.”

Pippa gasped.

“I thought I'd killed your mother by getting her pregnant when she was so young,” he said in a harsh voice. “I blamed myself for both of your deaths.”

Pippa was speechless. Then something dawned on her. Her father had suffered because he blamed himself for the deaths of
both
mother and daughter. But Pippa hadn't died. Instead, she'd been sent to a foster home. Her hands began to tremble. She clasped them together and asked, “Since I'm not dead, does that mean my mother is still alive?”

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Or that the answer was going to be no.

And then he nodded.