Chapter 15 #2
The can jerked, spattering paint on the ladder, the drop cloth, and her legs.
Devlin’s voice. The sound of it swept through her, giving her sudden joy, followed by a mix of feelings ranging from pain to happiness.
Her heart thudded so loudly, she could hardly think.
Carefully, she set the can down and turned to face him.
For a long moment she studied him, drinking in the sight of him.
He looked as good as ever, with the sleeves of his baby-blue dress shirt rolled up and that knock-’em-dead smile on his face, but she thought his eyes looked strained.
Maybe he had missed her. “I like it,” she said, wondering how she could sound so calm.
Hands stuffed in the pockets of his navy slacks, he strolled in and looked around. “So, how’s business?”
Unsure of his motive for being there, she simply stared at him.
He expected her to make small talk when all she could hear were the echoes of their last conversation?
Bitter, hurtful, angry words. And though she understood his feelings, she couldn’t pretend the words had never been said.
But it was his move, so she answered him in kind.
“Not open yet,” she said, raising her chin and meeting his gaze. “How’s CG&S?”
He shrugged and didn’t speak, taking another turn around the room before he halted in front of her. Reaching out, he touched her cheek, then cupped it. “You’ve got paint on your face.”
For an instant, she closed her eyes, and her breath drew in at his touch. “I’ve got paint everywhere,” she managed to say, with a creditable attempt at nonchalance.
His hand lingered when she started to move away, then his other one came up to frame her face. “God, I’ve missed you.”
She saw the truth of it in his eyes. He really had missed her, and God knows, she’d missed him too.
Unable to speak, she gazed at him with a lump the size of Texas lodged in her throat.
When she didn’t move, he leaned forward and she knew he was going to kiss her.
Quickly, she jerked her face away and backed up a step, nearly turning over the paint tray in the process.
Kissing him would solve nothing. It would only hurt her more because she still didn’t know why he was there.
“What do you want, Devlin?” Retreating to the window, she strove desperately for balance, for calm as she asked the question, but she could hear the quaver in her voice, and she knew he could too.
“That’s the same question I’ve been asking myself. And I think I finally figured out the answer.” His gaze locked with hers. “I want you, Gabrielle.”
He wanted her. But then, sex had never been the problem between them. She didn’t answer.
He took a step forward and spoke again. “I want you back.”
Wanted her back? Just like that? With no discussion, no nothing? Was she supposed to fall into his arms simply because he snapped his fingers? After the things he’d said, and worse, the things he thought her capable of?
Her expression hardened. “Really?” she asked sarcastically. “I’m the same woman you accused just a week ago of having Sabatino murdered. The same woman you think betrayed you to further her career, the same woman?—”
“The woman I’m in love with,” he interrupted. “The woman I never believed ordered Sabatino’s death.”
Damn, his voice made his words sound so convincing. She ought to be used to it, after years of hearing lawyers speak.
“You certainly gave a good impression of believing it.”
“I was hurt. Angry. I lashed out.” He frowned and threw a hand up in the air. “Hell, Gabrielle, what did you expect? It blew me away when I realized who you were. And then after Sid offered you the promotion?—”
“You automatically assumed that because my father is Mafia, that I must operate the same way.”
He rammed his fingers through his hair. “You’d been lying to me for weeks. Lying from the minute we met. It didn’t inspire a lot of confidence, no matter how much I wanted to believe you were different. No matter how much I wanted to believe you had a good reason for what you were doing.”
Turning her back, she gazed out the window. She should have told him the truth that last night, if not before. But she’d been afraid of what the truth would do, so she hadn’t.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Hell, I haven’t done anything but think for the past week. If making partner had been your only goal, than you’d never have quit CG&S. If you’d been the woman I accused you of being, you’d never have quit. And I knew, deep down, that you weren’t that woman.”
Admitting that she was to blame as well wasn’t easy. Her back still toward him, she said, “You had good reason to feel the way you did.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yes, it does.” She faced him. “Are you ever going to trust me? When you know I lied?”
“I also know why you lied. That makes a difference.” He closed the distance between them and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her near, resting his cheek against hers.
Hesitant at first, she put her hands on his arms. His breath felt warm, wafting across her cheek. Closing her eyes, she savored the sensation.