Wildstar

He inclined his head regally, including her in the ges­ture. "By the way, please accept my congratulations on your strike in the Wildstar."

Clem muttered something profane under his breath, which was cut off by Devlin's dry comment. "I'm gratified you're taking it so well, Mr. Burke."

He gave an elegant shrug. "You know what else they say—win some, lose some. Do enjoy the rest of your eve­ning."

He returned to his own table then, leaving a pall over Devlin's guests.

If the dinner was an ordeal for Jessica, the ride home was worse. Somehow the seating arrangements became switched and Devlin ended up beside her. She could feel the heat and muscular hardness of his thigh, even through their layers of clothing. That, and the casual way he draped his arm across the back of her seat, almost but not quite touching her, unnerved her. Plus the landau's top re­mained down, leaving the carriage open. The night was quiet and romantic as a crescent moon spilled its pale light over the rocky canyon, transfiguring the hulking mountain peaks around them into immense purple shadows. Jess was grateful for the soft breeze cooling her flushed face, and more grateful still for the way Flo kept up a steady, cheer­ful stream of conversation.

To Jess's regret, Riley invited them all into the house for a nightcap. Clem refused on the grounds that he had to get out of his "golblamed torture suit," but Devlin stayed nearly an hour—an interminable length.

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Her regret was even greater when her father asked her to show Garrett to the door. She caught Devlin's amused expression and bit her lip. Instantly suspicious of anything that pleased him, Jess ushered him into the front hall and handed him his hat, but that was as far as she got. Devlin wouldn't leave.

"Good night, Mr. Devlin," she said pointedly, holding the door open. "I trust you won't come here again."

His dark eyebrows rose in a mock dismay. "Such grat­itude, Miss Jess."

"I have no reason to be grateful to you," Jess practically hissed. "Your fifty thousand dollars made everything even between us, as you so correctly made clear to me. Now please leave. I don't want you in our house."

Deliberately ignoring her order, Devlin leaned negli­gently against the wall, looking for all the world as if he were enjoying himself. "But your father invited me to call again. I'd say he approves of me."

"Only because he doesn't know what you did!"

"Shall I tell him?"

"No!" Jess almost yelped the word. She glanced behind her guiltily, but the voices coming from the parlor assured her Flo and Riley hadn't heard. "Good Lord, no."

"Then I think you'd better make it worth my while," Devlin said silkily.

"What? What do you mean?"

"If you want me to keep quiet about our prior relation­ship, then I suggest you give me something in return."

Clenching her teeth, Jess violently took Devlin by the elbow and nearly pushed him outside. Pulling the door closed behind them, she left them surrounded by darkness. "You cad!" she exploded then, which made Devlin grin, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight.

"So you've said."

"What do you want?"

I want you, lying in my bed, wrapped around me. "A kiss, Miss Jess. Merely a kiss."

"You want me to kiss you after what you've done?" She sounded incredulous.

"I'd rather have you under me," he replied lazily, which made Jess gasp at his frankness, "but tonight I'll settle for a simple kiss."

Jess stared at him. What he was asking was impossible. Nothing was simple where this man was concerned, cer­tainly not his kisses. "And then you'll leave?"

"If you really want me to."

His husky, silken rasp, low and sexual and totally arous­ing, tore through her senses. Jess remained rooted where she stood, unable to move. Devlin reached up to touch her cheek with the back of his hand. He had taken off his gloves, and his fingers were warm, erotic, sending arrows of shivering awareness down her spine. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to do absolutely nothing to stop him.

She watched as his lazy lashes lowered to half shade even lazier eyes. The moon silvered his face, etching his beautiful features with light and shadow, filling her vision. Incredibly, she wanted his kiss.

Yet he didn't oblige at once. His hand slipped behind her neck, lightly cupping, but that was all he did. His hes­itation confused her.

Devlin, however, felt no hesitation at all. He was merely savoring the moment, drawing it out to heighten the antic­ipation. He figured he deserved to indulge himself.