Texas! Lucky (33 page)

"Did I hurt you that night in the motel?"

"No."

"I must have."

"Not much."

"I remember thinking that something wasn't right. Something was out of sync. But I was so sleepy and so caught up in you that I didn't stop to sort it out. I should have known. You were so tight. So sweet." Of its own accord, his body stirred inside her and her muscles contracted reflexively, leaving them both breathless for a moment.

Panting, Lucky continued, "I didn't remember it later. Not until today when—" He broke off, unwilling to let mention of Shelby spoil the most pleasure he'd ever had in bed. God, it just didn't get any better than this.

"Today, when I realized that you were a virgin that night and that I was the only man you'd ever been with, hell or high water couldn't have kept me away from you, Devon."

Then he groaned her name again and sank deeper into the snug, liquid heat of her body, and they both climaxed. Her throat arched beautifully, and her limbs enfolded him as she experienced her long, sweet release.

Moments later, lying face-to-face, he brushed away the damp strands of hair that clung to her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were limpid and dilated, as though she had been drugged.

"Lucky," she said in a soft, sad rasp, lightly touching his lips with her fingertips.

"That's me." He smiled crookedly.

Without returning his smile, she rolled to the opposite side of the bed and got up. He appreciatively watched as her graceful body moved from bed to closet and she wrapped a robe around her slim nakedness. He was charmed, especially when she used both hands to free her sex-tousled hair from her collar.

But when she turned to face him, his enchantment dissipated.

"What?" he asked with perplexity.

"You've got to go now."

He would have thought he hadn't heard her correctly if her face weren't so pale and blank of all expression. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he reached for his jeans, thrust his feet into them, and pulled them on as he stood up. Tamping down his frustration, and a twinge of fear, he approached her calmly.

"That's the craziest statement I've ever heard you say, Devon. What do you mean by it?"

"Just what I said. You'll have to go now. And this time our parting must be final. You can't come back."

"Does the expression 'fat chance' mean anything to you?"

"Don't get angry."

"I'm not angry. I'm incredulous."

"Let's not make this difficult."

He laughed hoarsely. "It started out with a fist-fight, Devon. It was difficult from the beginning, and got more so each time we saw each other. But dammit, we've just proved it's worth fighting for. Tell me you think so, too."

Gnawing her lower lip, she glanced away and began fiddling with the knotted belt of her robe. Her distress was plain. Lucky softened his tone. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm married."

"Not to him."

"To him!" she said with emphasis. "Our names are on the marriage certificate. We signed it. In the eyes of the state—"

"What about the eyes of God? Who's more your husband? Him or me?"

"How dare you drag religion into this," she cried angrily. "Are you suggesting that since you've known me in a biblical sense, you have a greater claim on me than Greg?" She tossed back her hair. Her green eyes were stormy. "If you are spiritually married to every woman you've slept with, then you're a polygamist!"

The barb hit home, and Lucky knew it would be pointless to pursue that line of reasoning. It had been worth a try, however. This was one argument he had to win. He had to pull out all the stops.

"You don't love him," he stated flatly.

"No, I don't. But I'm still married to him."

"And why? Why did you ever marry him? He doesn't love you either."

"At the time it seemed right."

"I applaud your grand gesture, but, Devon, surely you don't plan to throw away your happiness and spend the rest of your life with a jerk like him?"

"I have to stay married to him at least until he gets out of prison."

"He used you."

"I know that."

"He's a felon."

"I know that, too."

"You know he's guilty?" he asked, his jaw dropping open.

She gave a terse bob of her head. "I lied to you before. I'm reasonably certain he did it. At first I believed he was innocent. Later, after he was incarcerated, I began to have my doubts."

"Why?"

"He refused to consummate our marriage. Oh, he told me it was for my benefit. That way, he said, if I wanted to get out of the marriage, I could more easily. I thought he was being self-sacrificing. He might still be."

Lucky was shaking his head. "He was thinking of himself. He wanted to be able to have the marriage annulled when you were no longer useful. I'll bet that even now, he's trying to figure a way to turn the scandal about us to his advantage."

She hung her head. "The afternoon I met you, I learned that he had been declining his conjugal visits, something that I hadn't even known was available until I heard another prisoner's wife talking about it. I confronted Greg. We had a big row. I couldn't understand why he would reject his marital rights."

"Unless he was guilty not only of the crime, but gross manipulation."

"Yes."

It was a tough admission for her to make, but it only frustrated Lucky further. He plowed his hand through his hair. "Why haven't you started divorce—or annulment—proceedings?"

"Because I had used Greg just as much as he had used me. I used his story to help promote my column. That's when the Devon Haines byline really began to mean something to the newspaper. So I, as much as Greg, profited from our marriage."

"Devon, you've got incredible talent. Your column would have succeeded anyway. Why are you staying married?"

"Because I take my responsibilities seriously. I can't just wash my hands of a marriage because it's no longer useful, because it's inconvenient."

He shot down that argument with a curt, "Bullshit. You just don't want to admit that you were duped."

"That's not true!"

He knew by her instantaneous and adamant rebuttal that his guess had been right. "You always have to be in control, calling the shots. It's impossible for you to admit that twice your heart has overruled your head. Greg's sob story got to you, and you can't live with that. Rather than admitting to a mistake in judgment, you'll stubbornly stay married to him just to prove you were right."

"As long as there's the slightest chance that he's innocent, I can't desert him while he's in prison."

Lucky's oaths were vicious. "You don't believe he's innocent any more than I do."

"You said my heart had overruled my head twice."

He glanced at the bed. "You've fought it every step of the way, but you love me and I damn well know it. We connected the first time we laid eyes on each other. What you can't own up to is that you're as vulnerable between the thighs—"

"I won't listen to your lewd—"

"You don't want to be a weak nonentity like your mother was, totally dependent on her husband for everything. Okay. Fine. Guess what, Devon? I don't want to wipe my feet on you. I don't want a silent, submissive partner, in or out of bed."

"I have a husband."

"He's not the issue. He never has been, or so I found out this morning. You're just using him as an escape hatch. This is between you and me."

He gripped her shoulders. "You want a career. Terrific. Have one. I'm all for it. But have me, too. We can have each other and make both our careers worthwhile.

"I want babies. The burden of that responsibility falls on you, I'm afraid. But if you consented to have my babies, I'd put you on a pedestal and make it the most wonderful experience of your life."

He lowered his voice to a compelling, tempting whisper. "I've felt your passion for me, Devon. I've tasted it. I know it's there. Put your arms around my neck. Tell me you need me. Admit you love me."

"Twice you've persuaded me to break my wedding vows. Isn't that enough for you?"

"I want us to exchange our own vows, vows our bodies have already made. Vows you haven't made with Greg or any other man."

"I can't see you again, Lucky."

"Say you love me."

"I can't."

"It's because of the way your mother died, isn't it?" he demanded.

Devon fell back a step. "What?"

"You turned a deaf ear to her and she died. You take responsibility for her death."

"Yes!" she cried. "Wouldn't you?"

"Was she incapacitated? Bedridden? Homebound? Unable to drive?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Could she have gone to the doctor alone, Devon?" She hedged, and he knew he was on to something. "She laid that guilt on you because her life had been miserable, and in a warped way she wanted yours to be. She probably wanted to die, and going about it as painfully as possible was her way of guaranteeing your attention for the rest of your life. And in the same damn way, you've shackled yourself to Shelby."

"He might be innocent."

"He isn't."

"But if he is—"

"You will have done all you could do to save him from imprisonment." He clamped down on her shoulders. "Devon, you can't take on responsibility for the whole world. No one's asked you to. You can't sacrifice your present happiness because of what happened in the past or what might happen in the future. Let it go. Let them go. Focus on someone who needs you here and now."

He had never begged a woman for anything. It was difficult for him to do so now. It went against his nature as diametrically as snow in the jungle. But, as he had realized, this was one argument he couldn't lose. His life depended on it.

"Don't throw away the best damn thing that has ever happened to either of us. Not for the sake of pride or principle or anything else. Don't. I'm begging you, Devon, please don't." He bracketed her jaw with his hands and tilted her head back. Enunciating each word, he said, "Tell me you love me."

She stared him down, her features tortured and emotional. Slowly her head began moving from side to side, as far each way as his hands would allow. Then, voice tearing, she said, "I can't. Please don't ask me to again."

Chapter 20