Only Her Page 10

  "I was just about to have dinner. Would you like some lasagna and salad?"

  Dev couldn't believe how civilized she was being. He had expected a hellcat and he got a kitten – not quite purring, but not on the attack, at least.

  "I came here to offer to take you out for dinner," he said, seeming nervous, which was highly unusual. She didn't think she'd ever seen him nervous in all the years she'd known him. He gave other people panic attacks – he didn't have them himself.

  "Well, I appreciate the offer, but, no, thank you."

  "In that case," he said more smoothly. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."

  Her lasagna was one of his favorite dishes in her culinary repertoire – she made it with tons of veggies – onions, peppers, even carrots – but also pepperoni and pieces of meatball, all in a perfectly seasoned meat sauce.

  She settled in front of the TV – not on the small couch, as he would have preferred, but in the easy chair near it. He sat in the corner of the couch closest to her, his knees practically knocking against her chair every time he moved.

  As he ate, he didn't pay one whit of attention to whatever program it was that she was watching. Instead, he studied her. She seemed quite content to pretend that he wasn't there, and, at least for these few minutes, he was quite willing to let her.

  She was painfully thin. He'd always encouraged her to eat healthily, but she was much too thin. She looked as if a stiff wind would blow her over, although there was also an aura of strength about her that counterbalanced her physical delicacy – an inner calm and acceptance – a serenity he hadn't seen in her before.

  Her hair was shorter than he liked and a golden blonde, and with those bright green eyes, it made her look even more like the cartoon character he'd teasingly nicknamed her so long ago. His mind, of course, went immediately to the sexual, and he had to wonder how she'd even taken him, he was so much of a big lunk – she was much too fine for him, he'd known it from the start.

  And yet he wanted her. Dev knew beyond a shadow of a doubt – especially now – that he deserved her even less than before, and yet he craved, every minute he drew breath, her, like she craved chocolate, once a month.

  And he was determined to win her back.

  He was going to put his cards on the table and plunk his heart right down next to them, as he never had with anyone else in his life, ever.

  Only her.

  Chapter 9

  When she came back from having collected their plates and put them in the dishwasher in the tiny kitchen, he reached for the remote and turned the TV off.

  Anna's heart lodged firmly in her throat, making it hard for her to swallow.

  "I would like to talk to you," he began.

  She surprised him again by not arguing in the least, but rather turning towards him in her chair and giving him her full attention. "I'm listening."

  Once he started, he found it hard to stop. He told her everything – even things he probably shouldn't have, about the investigations – both the official one and the very non-official one he and Kurt had conducted that had resulted in her case being dismissed.

  And he apologized to her, every time he thought about it, every time there was the slightest lull in his brain.

  He told her that she had been framed – which she already knew – and how and why it was done – he told her Jenny and Tarin's stupid, heartless, idiotic, selfish reasons for ruining her life.

  And then he apologized to her again.

  Kurt's name cropped up quite a bit, especially when he talked about their investigation, and even when he was just looking for her afterwards, which apparently he'd had a big hand in, too.

  "Well, when you see him next, please give him my thanks. I certainly appreciate all he did – all the both off you did – to clear my name."

  Dev caught her eye. "Well, that's just it. I probably won't be seeing him again."

  Anna's eyebrow rose. "Why? You didn't fire him, did you, after all that?"

  "No. I sold him controlling shares of the casino."

  She couldn't have been more amazed if he had said he'd married the man. "You what?"

  He had to grin at her astounded look. "I no longer own the Aces Casino – Kurt does. I still have a reasonable amount of stock, but I am no longer CEO or chief cook and bottle washer."

  "Wow." She was pretty floored. For Dev, that was the emotional and psychological equivalent of a mother selling her baby. That casino was his life. "That was a pretty abrupt decision."

  "And speaking of which, this is for you." He fished around in his back pocket, producing a big wad of papers and holding them out to her. "This is for you. Sorry for the folds. I didn't want to wear my suit here so I don't have a jacket pocket."

  Anna stared at the papers for a long time, not at all sure she wanted to look at them, but they were just papers. They didn't mean anything to her unless she allowed them to.

  So she took them. They were stock certificates for the casino. A lot of them.

  Anna gave Dev an inquiring look.

  "You, Kurt and I own the Aces now. Kurt has fifty percent, you have thirty and I have twenty. He's the new CEO, and there's nothing you need to do at all besides deposit these somewhere safe, with your broker, preferably."

  Anna noticed that he hadn't exactly given Kurt controlling interest, but that didn't matter to her, anyway. She extended the papers back to him. "I don't want these."

  Dev leaned back, not reaching for the stocks at all. "I had a feeling you would say that, but they're yours, anyway. Think of them as a severance package or a nest egg. Do with them what you will."

  She put the certificates down on the coffee table. "And what are you going to do, now that you've put your child up for adoption?"

  He laughed at just how apt a description that was, and in a flash, before she even thought of expecting it, he leaned towards her, lifted her out of her chair and put her on his lap. "Why, I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make everything up to you." He tilted her face to his. "And trying to make you love me, eventually."

  It was on the tip of her tongue to snort at him, at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement – the last part in particular – but she didn't.

  He wasn't kidding. She could see it in his eyes, and he wouldn't allow her to look away.

  "I love you, Annabelle Valente. I know I should have realized it long, long ago – even before you propositioned me so sweetly that night- but I'm damaged goods. Severely damaged, in all honesty, not to have seen the goodness in you and grabbed it all for myself the first day I met you."

  He looked away first, continuing, "But I couldn't recognize it, and even when I did, I couldn't accept it for myself. I learned early that love is not to be trusted. That it's ephemeral. Nothing. Just something two people kid themselves about for a while, before they move onto someone else."

  He cupped her face in his hands. "But that's not what happened with you. You were – you are – my best friend, and that kind of love wormed its way into me without me even noticing over the years, and then we became more intimate and you were still good and honest and so trusting of me, to let me do those things I did to you. To make me responsible for you in certain ways – it was eye opening and painful in some ways and yet it was the most profound thing I've ever experienced in my life.

  "And it made me love you. I've loved you for longer than I probably even know, but long about the time of the bachelorette party and you were gone for so long and I was so worried about you, I knew. I knew I'd lost the battle. But I was uncertain about how you were feeling, so I kept it to myself." He kissed her forehead, but nothing more. "I'm not going to stay silent any longer. Even if…" He could barely get himself to say it, as if acknowledging it aloud would somehow make it so. "If you're unable, or unwilling – and I wouldn't like but I can certainly understand either of those reactions – to let me back into your life, I will still love you. I will grow old alone and in love with you till my dying breath, if that is your deci
sion, but I would much rather grow old with you."

  With that, he reached into a front pocket and put a small, square, velvet box on the table. He didn't give it to her; he just placed it on the table.

  Anna held her breath. "What. Is. That?"

  His eyes still on it before he slowly brought them back to hers, he answered, "Oh, I think you have a pretty good idea what it is."

  She stiffened in his arms and stood up, walking several feet away from him, her back to him. "Put it back," she said stiffly.

  "Okay," he said, tucking it back into his pocket and standing, too. "I don't want to overstay my welcome." Dev made so bold as to grab her hand as he walked to the door, and Anna's mind was so derailed by the engagement ring he'd so casually plopped down on her coffee table that she let him, as he'd been hoping she would.

  Turning to her as he got to the door, he captured her face again, kissing her softly, sweetly before she had a chance to protest, then opening the door to step out of it. "Oh, I forgot. I'm staying at the Three Rivers Casino, in case you should want to, you know, stop by or something. Room three-oh-four."

  Even shell shocked as she was, Anna couldn't help but smile at that. "Busman's holiday?" she teased.

  "Nope. I'm outta that game." Dev leaned forward, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips, staring at her with an intensity she could feel to the soles of her feet. "I'm only here for the express purpose of courting you."

  And he wasn't kidding.

  And he was smart enough not to be obnoxious enough to piss her off about it, either.

  Instead, he was stealthy but gentlemanly.

  There were flowers on her doorstep – sometimes nicely arranged and obviously bought – sometimes wildflowers that he had picked – or some other small token of his affection, almost every morning, always with a hand written note that said he loved her and that he was sorry and always mentioning that he hoped she'd eat well today.

  He often "happened" to be on the beach at the same time she was and walked with her, but not in a manner that annoyed her, but quietly at her side, interacting with her often only to show her some interesting shell or something he'd found.

  And only occasionally reaching out for her hand, which she, at first, refused to give him, but he never gave up trying, until she finally took it one day with a put upon sigh, and he laughed like a child who'd been given the keys to a candy store.

  Sometimes, he invited her to lunch. Which, again, at first, she refused, until she found herself walking alone one morning, unwillingly wondering where he was. Until on her return trip, she saw him sitting in the sand near the path to the parking lot, next to a checked blanket that was laden with all of her favorite foods – the same ones he had brought her when she was crampy, plus a few of his own.

  He stood and bowed, and she debated about whether she was going to succumb to his undeniable charms – the rascal – and he waited patiently – almost at attention – for her decision, but didn't push her.

  And she was hungry, so she acquiesced, when she knew she shouldn't.

  Dev guided her to a beach chair then sat down on the blanket himself, next to her, and began to feed her things and talk to her and make her laugh.

  She had to admit, when her tummy was full, that it had been a marvelously indulgent picnic, and that – despite what had happened between them – she still loved it when he took care of her, even if she didn't really want to.

  One day he kidnapped her – if that was the right word, when he simply convinced her to get into his car and go somewhere unnamed with him, which ended up being the tiny casino at which he was staying.

  He bought her chips, giving her a look that said, and telling her outright at the same time, to get over her reticence about things like that. And they played blackjack and a couple of hands of poker, and he fed her slot machine habit terribly, playing next to her, even though she knew he favored table games, and losing badly while she won enough to pay him back and then some.

  They ate supper – not at the heavily advertised and depressingly popular buffet, but at a quiet bistro type of place, and they were largely the only people in there, and thus had the attention of the full staff. The food was better than she'd thought it would be. He was more charming even than she had remembered, never pressuring her in any way, reminiscing a bit about some of their better old times. He regaled her with harrowing tales from when he was a boy growing up largely on the streets of Vegas, which gave her more of a glimpse into his psychological makeup than he had probably intended.

  At the end of the evening, when she had begun to get nervous that he might try to lead her up to his room, he instead tucked her into his car and brought her back to her own house.

  "Do you own this, by the way?" he asked as he went all out and walked her to her front door like they were in some kind of fifties sitcom or something.

  "No. It belongs to a friend who said I could stay as long as I wanted to."

  Dev smiled. "Well, I'm glad you had a place to go to when you needed it and such a wonderful friend."

  Then he drew her into his arms and kissed her – really kissed her – since the first time he'd found her there. His hips arched into her, allowing her no doubts at all as to the fact that he still wanted her terribly. Then leaving her voluntarily with a much chaster kiss on the top of her head and a reluctant good night, although she knew that he waited by his car until he saw that she got into the house all right before driving away.

  But he was not going to turn her head, she vowed. She had forgiven him, and that had been hard for her, but she had gotten herself – through hard work – to a point where she could do so unreservedly. She did, really, forgive him. But that didn't mean that she had to let him back into her life.

  She didn't think that she could survive it if something like what had happened occurred again.

  But then, neither could Dev.

  When he left her that night, he headed straight back to his hotel room, bringing a bottle of cheap scotch. It was all he'd had since he'd lost her.

  All he deserved.

  He wouldn't drink the good stuff again until he had her back, and he'd already acknowledged to himself that might be a while.

  But he would wait – not necessarily as patiently as he had so far, but he would wait.

  She was more than worth it to him.

  Even though he went to bed each night with a dick was so hard it could drill through glass.

  She was well worth waiting for.

  Unfortunately, his belief in that sentiment was going to be severely challenged.

  When he saw her next, several days later, they had bumped into each other at the grocery store. It was a complete accident – nothing that he had planned.

  But he saw his opportunity and took it.

  "Would you go on a date with me, Tink?" he asked as they both perused the dairy aisle.

  She flinched at his use of his pet name for her, and he saw the slightest shadow of the pain he must have caused her pass over her face, wishing he could take more than just his use of her nickname back.

  Dev reached out and put his hand over hers. "I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to keep saying that, you know."

  "Yes, I do," he stated firmly, but entirely without rancor.

  She pushed her cart away to look at the ice cream, as he reached in for a pint of caramel cone, which she knew wasn't his favorite.

  Anna felt a big elbow in her ribs. "So. Friday night?" It was Monday. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

  "No, thank you. I have other plans," she said, and left him standing there with his mouth hanging open.

  "Other plans."

  He mulled the words over in his head for the rest of the week, although he didn't let it stop him from leaving his usual tiny gifts or meeting her to walk on the beach most days.

  But he couldn't get the idea out of his mind. Did she mean with another man? With the woman who owned the house that she was living in? With a female friend she'd met since she'd l
ived there? What?

  What?

  He was driving himself crazy with visions of her with someone else, and that evening, when he should have been with her but someone else was instead, he was inches away from staking out her place to get a look at his competition.

  But he knew he couldn't allow himself to do that. He wasn't a stalker. He loved her. And that would just be creepy and all kinds of not right.

  So he forced himself to stay home. And brood and pace.

  And pace and brood.

  And then pace some more.

  Dev deliberately distanced himself from her the next day, though, after leaving a box of her favorite chocolates at her door before he went on his morning run. There were no chance encounters. He didn't appear at her door, and he didn't walk with her that day.

  It poured the next day, and the little trinket he'd left for her was in a zip top bag. Anna happened to be up early that morning, and she caught him turning to head down the stairs.

  It was a little Tinkerbell on a keychain that made her chest ache.

  He'd stopped when he heard the door open and looked back at her.

  She'd just gotten up and was still in her robe and pajamas. "Thank you, Dev. But you don't have to do this, you know."

  "I know."

  "I was just going to make breakfast – do you want some?"

  He shrugged. "I was going for my run."

  Even in this weather. The man was a true fanatic.

  "Well, why don't you come back here when you're done? I'll have it all ready." Just as she had dozens of times, she'd cooked breakfast for him while he was out running when they were living together.

  Before.

  When he came in about a half hour later, soaking wet, she handed him a towel before he had a chance to shake like a big shaggy dog and get water all over her house.

  That was when she noticed that he was shivering.

  "Take a shower if you like. Put your clothes outside the door and I'll run your shorts through the dryer. They're nylon. They'll dry quickly."