Wildstar

"Thank you, Louis."

Accepting the telegram, Devlin shut the door and began to read.

No longer sleepy, Jess sat up in bed, clutching the cov­ers to her breasts. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Devlin said dryly. "It's just my father demanding attention, as usual. I had Clem wire him about our mar­riage, and this is his answer. C.E. welcomes you into the Devlin family, by the way."

Devlin returned to the bed and handed her the telegram. As he shrugged out of his dressing gown, Jess tried to read in the dim light. It was indeed the senior Devlin's polite congratulations on his son's marriage and, surprisingly, a warmly worded welcome to Jessica. But there was an ad­ditional cryptic message at the end that read, "Will send marble tub next week. Stop. Signed, C.E."

"What does this mean, 'Will send marble tub'?" Jess asked as Devlin climbed into bed beside her and arranged the covers over them both.

"My father intends to give us a bathtub for a wedding present."

"A bathtub?"

"I told him you had a fetish for hot water and bath salts."

"You told your father I wanted a bathtub? Good Lord, what will he think of me?"

"Correction, angel." Facing her, Devlin draped his arm possessively over her rib cage, beneath her breasts. "I told him we wanted a bathtub—and that was all we wanted from him. And truthfully, I don't give a damn what he thinks of you. You married me, not the Devlin family."

His grim tone told Jess very clearly she had struck a nerve. "It sounds like you don't much care for your fa­ther."

Devlin gave a soft grunt of agreement. "He's a manip­ulative bastard who could run circles around Burke. You'd like him as little as you like Burke."

"I don't dislike Burke so much anymore. I can't forgive everything he's done, but it's hard to hold the past against him when he's trying to change. Besides, if it weren't for him, I would never have known you. It was because of Burke that I hired you."

Devlin's mouth curved in a smile. Sliding down a bit farther, he pressed his naked body closer and nuzzled his lips in the curve of her throat. "I suppose I can't be too upset with my father, either. He was the reason I came to Silver Plume."

"Oh. In that case, I think I could kiss him."

Devlin tensed at her comment. "Don't you dare even think a

bout it."

Jess was curious. "Would you be jealous?"

In answer, Devlin raised his head and gave her a hard kiss. "I'll tell you about my father and his women, some­time. But not now. We have better things to do." Slipping his hand between their bodies, he ran his palm provoca­tively down the silken length of her thigh, then slowly up again, to press suggestively against the threshold of her femininity.

"Aren't . . . you sleepy yet?" she murmured breathlessly, surprised at his stamina. He had been up all night, battling a raging fire.

The tender light in Devlin's eyes was a potent mingling of amusement and hunger. "Exhausted, but I don't feel it. Do you?"

"No," Jess answered honestly, distracted by his bold fin­gers.

"Good. We can sleep later. At the moment I intend to convince you just how much I want you."

With a love-dazed smile, Jessica threaded her arms around her handsome husband's neck and drew his head down. "I think I may need a lot of convincing. You've told me more than once than I'm stubborn."

Devlin's low, sensual chuckle whispered tantalizingly against her lips. "It will be my pleasure, Mrs. Devlin."