Wildstar

"She's as different from you as night and day," he added, amused. "Her idea of wealth is a bathtub with hot running water."

"And you want to take this woman to wife?" his father said faintly.

Devlin smiled again, a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm old enough this time not to need your permission."

"But . . . you've thought this through?"

"I've done nothing but think about it for the past week."

"Well, then." It was a helpless little remark, oddly im­potent for a man as powerful and accustomed to control as his father.

Sipping his wine, Devlin watched the struggle on his fa­ther's face. C.E. was forcibly biting his tongue, obviously trying to hold back the demands he wanted to make.

It was the most Devlin could ask.

"I don't need your permission to marry," he said slowly, "but I'd like your blessing."

There was a long pause while C.E. searched his face. "Are you sure she can make you happy?" he asked at last.

Devlin thought of Jessica, her strength, her stubborn­ness. He thought of her standing up to Burke in a crowded saloon. Of her pulling a revolver on him the first time he kissed her. Of her trembling in his arms in a darkened mine tunnel. Of her holding Purcell and a half dozen other outlaws at bay. He thought of her wrapping her long legs around him and meeting him thrust for passionate thrust, carrying him to a world of delight and ecstasy he'd found with no other woman but her. He thought of her filling up the emptiness in his life.

No, he didn't know if she could make him happy. All he knew was that his life would be unbearable without her. This past week had more than proved that. He missed her every waking hour, and some when he was sleeping. He missed her fire, her determination . . . her passion, her prejudices. He missed kissing her, missed fighting with her. He missed the challenge of turning her into a sensual, sexually responsive woman.

In short, he couldn't contemplate living his life without her.

He intended to return to Colorado and marry her just as soon as he could settle his most pressing affairs here. Jess might balk at first, he was aware. He hadn't left under the most congenial of terms. But he dismissed the gut-deep fear that she might reject him entirely. He didn't intend to take no for an answer. If Jess wasn't in love with him yet, he would make her fall in love. It was as simple as that.

"As sure as I can be of anything," Devlin answered his father.

"Well then . . . you have my blessing, son." It was, Devlin thought as he raised his glass, a good enough beginning.

Chapter 20

"That gorgeous fella's back," Flo announced as she entered the boardinghouse kitchen with an armful of packages from the butcher shop.

Jessica's heart did a double take. "Devlin? He's here! In Silver Plume?"

"Doc Wheeler saw him down at the rail station."

"Are you sure!"

"I reckon Doc knows enough about anatomy to recog­nize a gent when he sees one."

"What . . . is he doing back?"

Flo's grin was as broad as a barn door. "Well, I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count."

Jess's hand stole to her breastbone. Flo was determined to believe Devlin was sweet on her, but she hadn't dared allow herself to hope. It would be devastating to have those hopes shattered. Letting herself dream of romance and love and a future with him—with children and a home—was just setting herself up for a terrible fall. Dev­lin didn't want those things, any more than he wanted her.

For the past two weeks she'd tried to put him out of her mind—which was a bit like trying to pretend she wasn't alive. It was humanly impossible for her lips not to re­member Devlin's stunning kisses, for her body to forget his heated, exquisite lovemaking. She couldn't deny, ei­ther, that his charm and tenderness, his vital maleness, af­fected her profoundly, any more than she could claim not to miss his shrewd intelligence and keen understanding. In fact, ever since Devlin had left town, she'd been in pure misery.

She was in love with him, pure and simple. She had to admit it. Even if she hadn't allowed herself to acknowl­edge the depth of her feelings before now, she couldn't possibly blame the hungry, yearning ache in her heart on anything but love.

Unlike Flo, though, Jess couldn't believe Devlin would return to Colorado just for her. But what else could have brought him back?

"Maybe he just wants to see Riley about his share of the Wildstar," Jess offered lamely, wishing Flo would contra­dict her.

The widow gave her a disgusted look that was rather heartening. "Lord have mercy, gal, don't you know any­thing about men?"