Chapter 23
DARCY
Darcy’s heart was still racing. She could feel it pounding in her throat as she pressed her lips together, trying to regain some semblance of composure while sitting on the table. Devlin’s warmth lingered on her skin, the taste of him still fresh on her lips, and she swore she could still feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns along her spine. An ache pooled in her and she wanted release from it, but she needed to show some restraint.
It had been overwhelming, intoxicating — everything she had feared and everything she had secretly longed for.
She swallowed, her hands gripping the edge of the table beneath her as if the world would tilt at any moment. This was real. He had kissed her. No, they had kissed each other. Devlin Storm, the man who seemed to belong more to the wilderness than to any woman, had lifted her from the floor and kissed her like he needed her more than air.
And she had kissed him back. Hard.
The realisation came like a wave crashing over her, pulling her deeper into the whirlpool of emotions she had been so desperately trying to avoid. What had she done? She had let herself fall, let herself give in to something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. This was Devlin, after all — the man who chased adventure with reckless abandon, while she clung to the safety of routine and predictability.
But for the first time, that didn’t seem to matter.
Darcy glanced up, catching a glimpse of him standing there, his chest still rising and falling, his emerald eyes glassy and unreadable as they lingered on her. He hadn’t said anything since their lips had parted, and the silence between them felt fragile, like it might shatter if either of them spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words, with feelings neither of them had dared admit until now. Maybe they still didn’t.
Her heart screamed at her to do something, to break the tension, to say anything that might give her back control of the situation, but her body refused to move. She had no idea what to say. How do you talk to a man who had just set your world on fire with a single kiss?
You’re scared, she reminded herself. You’ve always been scared.
But maybe she didn’t want to be any more.
Before she could find the courage to speak, Devlin’s hand reached for hers, his fingers gently brushing against her skin, and she felt that same electric spark shoot through her veins. He moved closer, his eyes never leaving hers, and Darcy’s breath caught in her throat.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low, rough around the edges.
Was she? Darcy wasn’t sure. She had no idea how to be all right when her entire body was still humming from his touch, her mind racing with the implications of what had just happened. But she nodded anyway, her fingers closing around his, because despite everything — despite her fears and uncertainties — she knew one thing for sure: this was an adventure she wasn’t running from.
Darcy took a deep breath, steadying herself, and looked up at Devlin, her fingers still intertwined with his. There was something she needed to say, something that had been tugging at her since the moment their lips had parted. She licked her lips, tasting the remnants of their kiss, before speaking.
“Maybe we could make each other a promise,” she said, softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Devlin’s gaze locked onto hers, and the intensity of it made her feel as though the room had shrunk around them.
“A promise?” he repeated, his thumb lightly grazing her knuckles.
Darcy nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “I’ll . . . I’ll go on more adventures. I’ll try to stop running from everything that scares me.”
Devlin’s expression softened, and for a moment, she thought she saw something vulnerable flash in his eyes.
“And I’ll try to be a kinder person,” he said, his voice still rough but filled with sincerity. “The man who doesn’t shout when things get tough. Who doesn’t make ridiculous demands.”
“Ridiculously dangerous demands,” she added. “Like taking a helicopter into a snowstorm against everyone’s better wishes.”
She smiled at him, small and hesitant, but it felt like the start of something bigger. He raised his hand between them, offering it to her like an unspoken vow and she took it and shook it.
“That’s a deal, my brave adventurer,” he said quietly, the nickname holding a weight that made her chest tighten.
“That’s a deal, my reformed daredevil,” she replied, uncertainly.
“Not sure I’d go that far,” Devlin laughed.
“Man I can just about tolerate?” she teased.
“How about work in progress?”
Darcy nodded. “Work in progress. I like it.”
They shook on it, neither of them dropping the other’s hand when it was done. For a moment, they stayed there, hands clasped, the promise hanging between them like a fragile thread.
But then Darcy pulled him to her, closing the distance between them in one swift movement. Their lips met again, but this time the kiss was slower, more certain. It wasn’t filled with urgency or fear, but with the quiet understanding that they were beginning something new. That the kiss they’d already shared hadn’t been a one-off. It had been something real.
A loud gust of wind howled outside, rattling the windows, breaking their magic. The snowstorm was still raging around them.
“Looks like we’re stuck here for a little while longer,” Darcy said, a mischievous grin growing on her face. “I found something earlier that I think will help pass the time.”
Devlin’s eyebrow quirked and Darcy shook her head.
“Don’t get any ideas, Romeo,” she laughed. “I meant a pack of cards.”
“Cards?”
Darcy shifted to the edge of the table and jumped down.
“What?” she said. “Afraid I’ll beat you?” she called back over her shoulder as she ducked down to the console cupboard by the pool table and pulled out a pack of well-used playing cards.
“As if!” Devlin said. “I used to play with Mum all the time and she was a hard taskmaster.”
“Oh, fighting talk.”
She sat back on her chair at the table and took the cards from their sleeve, shuffling them and giving Devlin her best poker face. He was trying his hardest not to laugh, but when the cards toppled from Darcy’s hands the floodgates opened.
She grinned, scooping the cards from the floor, unbothered by Devlin’s laughter.
“Okay, okay,” she said, tapping the cards back into some semblance of order. “Maybe I need to work on my shuffling skills, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to win. What’s your game?”
“Snap?”
Darcy laughed.
“Snap? What are you, five?” She shuffled as she spoke, eyes on Devlin, feeling the tension start to build again between them. “I thought you’d be more of a Poker guy, given your face is devoid of emotion most of the time.”
Devlin hit a hand to his chest, clutching dramatically at his heart.
“Oof, you’re killing me.” He dropped his chin and gazed at Darcy. “If Snap is too fast-paced for you and Poker is a bit hardcore for a first date, then I think we should go with Go Fish, if you’re au fait with the rules? First one to ‘book’ wins.”
If Darcy knew the rules of Go Fish then they’d flown out of her head as soon as Devlin had said the words first and date.
“You want to cut the cards?” Darcy croaked.
Devlin nodded, taking the deck from her hands and brushing his fingers along the inside of her wrist. The sensation travelled all the way up her arm and spread through her body like a warm rush.
“That’s cheating,” she whispered, watching as he cut the cards in two and stacked them again.
Devlin was silent as he dealt them seven cards each and placed the deck in the middle of the table. He took his time. Whether it was because he could only use one arm or because he was so focused on her, Darcy wasn’t sure. But it was maddening, the tension simmering between them, hovering just beneath the surface like an unspoken challenge.
“Give me your Kings, Devlin,” she said, trying and failing to sound casual.
“Go fish,” Devlin replied, holding steady. “Tell me, Darcy, do you play cards with all your dates?”
Darcy grinned, picking up a card from the pile and adding it to her hand.
“Only the ones up to the challenge,” she said.
“I’m honoured,” Devlin said.
“I’m already planning my victory dance,” she replied.
“Don’t get too cocky, Wainwright. I’m full of surprises.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Darcy teased, but her pulse quickened at the way his eyes sparkled with amusement.
After the last few days, Darcy could tell Devlin was starting to relax. His arm was strapped to keep it from hurting so much, his jaw unclenched, his whole persona a world away from the man who’d demanded she get ready for his helicopter. She could tell he was enjoying this — their little back-and-forth — the way they were dancing around the inevitable pull between them. She ignored a niggling doubt that what had happened between them was a result of his adrenaline pumping and clouding the reasoning part of his brain.
They played in near silence for a few minutes, saving themselves for card requests and Go Fish commands. But Darcy couldn’t stand how the air was growing thick with unspoken words, so she glanced at him over the top of her cards.
“What does a man like Devlin Storm do in his spare time?” she asked.
Devlin chuckled, studying the cards in his hand. He’d worked out a way to play with just one working arm, it took him a bit longer but he’d done so without complaining that Darcy had picked a game where he was quite obviously at an immediate disadvantage.
“What’s this ‘spare time’ you talk of?” he said. “Show me your Queens.”
“Go Fish,” Darcy replied. “And I don’t believe you work 24/7. So I’m going to fill in the gaps if you don’t do it for me.”
She watched as he placed his cards face down on the table and then drew one from the deck.
“So,” she went on, “I’m picturing you finishing work, heading to the gym and working out until you’ve released all that pent-up aggression because your assistant brought you the wrong stapler. Once you’ve run a ten-minute five-mile run and pounded that treadmill like it’s the face of your mortal enemy—”
“Okay, okay, jeez,” he interrupted. “I see I’ve got a long way to go to win you over still. So, I’m not sure I should be telling you this, actually.”
Darcy arched an eyebrow, trying not to smile.
“When I get home after a long day in the office, I sit in my pants and eat cereal while watching reruns of Succession .”
The laugh that burst from Darcy surprised even herself.
“You’re telling me you watch power-hungry billionaires stab each other in the back while shovelling Cheerios onto a spoon? All in a pair of boxers?”
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “Though they’re Calvins, before you start imagining me in a pair of saggy, paisley prints.”
Darcy felt her cheeks heat as she pictured Devlin in a pair of Calvins. “Is that not a kind of busman’s-holiday show for you?”
“What about you, Darcy?” He ignored her question, watching her for a beat. “What’s your show?”
“Am I a total cliché if I say Gilmore Girls ?”
“Yes,” Devlin said with a grin. “But I won’t hold it against you.”
“It’s a comfort,” she said. “The small town where everyone knows each other. The quirky characters. The romance. It’s my go-to when I want to escape.”
Devlin watched her for a beat, his expression softening. “I get that,” he said, quietly. “We all need to escape sometimes.”
His words hung in the air and Darcy felt like if she grabbed them and tugged, she’d get something deeper than banter. An insight into his real life, past the bravado and the teasing.
She laid down her cards, the game suddenly feeling secondary to whatever else was building between them. “You feel like that? Like you want to just step away from everything for a while?”
Devlin’s gaze flickered over her face before he looked back down at his cards. “Yeah, more than I’d like to admit.”
Darcy’s breath caught in her throat and for a moment they just stared at each other, the game of cards forgotten. She could feel the tension thickening between them again, the undeniable pull drawing her closer to him. She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke.
“I think it’s your turn, Storm.”
Devlin blinked as if coming back to the moment. He glanced at his hand again and then pulled out four cards. Darcy could see the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he laid down each of the Queens in turn.
“Wait, what?” she said, her eyes widening. “Already?”
“I told you I was full of surprises,” he said, grinning.
Darcy threw her cards down in a play huff. “You are such a cheat.”
“I won that hand fair and square,” he said, eyes on her. The air between them was crackling with unspoken desire.
Darcy stood up, pushing her chair back with a grin. She leaned her hands on the table and bent her face towards Devlin.
“Fine, I guess I’ll have to win the next book.”
But before she could step away, Devlin had reached out and taken her hand in his. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through her and when she looked at him, his expression was serious.
“Or,” he said softly, his thumb grazing her skin, “we could forget about the cards for a while.”
Darcy’s breath hitched. The way he was looking at her, she felt like he was daring her to close the gap between them, to give in to the fire that had been smouldering all day. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t find the words to respond.
Instead, she walked around the corner of the table, her fingers resting on Devlin’s wrist, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath them. He slipped his hand from hers and moved it to her waist and around to the small of her back, pulling her closer until she was standing between his legs.
The game. The storm. The world outside — they all faded away as he stood up and his lips found hers again, and this time, there was no holding back.