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  By the time he stopped the truck beside the house, she wasn't sure her knees would support her. Devlin shut off the engine and thrust open his door without a word. Annalise pushed open her own door, but be-fore she could shde to the ground, Devlin was there, his hands circling her waist. He lifted her easily to the ground.

  Annalise had to lock her knees to keq) from simply collapsing at his feet. But even that didn't help when he slammed her door shut and then crowded her back against the truck.

  "Do you know how much I want you?" he whispered raggedly.

  If she hadn't already guessed, she would have now. Caught between the cool surface of the truck and the

  heat of his body, she could feel his arousal pressed against her stomach.

  "All I could think about all the way home was how much I wanted to be inside you, feeling you close around me, all hot and damp."

  She bit her lip to hold back a whimper of need, closing her eyes against the glittering intensity of his. His hands slid up from her waist to cup the weight of her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, bringing them to full arousal beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

  Momentarily satisfied with her reaction, he shifted his attention to her hair, his fingers searching for and disposing of the pins that held it in place. It tumbled over his forearms in a heavy silk curtain. He buried his fingers in it, tilting her head up until his mouth could find hers in a quick, hard kiss.

  He bent suddenly, lifting her in his arms with a movement so full of urgency that Annalise felt her breath stolen from her. Lx)bo lifted his head from his paws to watch them from the comer of the porch he'd claimed as his, but he seemed to sense that this was not a time to draw attention to himself.

  They were barely inside the front door before Devlin was letting her slide to her feet, his fingers searching for the zipper at the back of her dress even as his mouth closed over hers.

  Passion spiraled between them at a dizzying speed. The dress fell to the floor and he hfted her, arching her back over his arm so that her breasts were thrust upward. Annalise caught her breath on a sob as his mouth closed over her. He sucked strongly at her nip-

  pie. She felt the pressure deep inside, a hot liquid pool in the pit of her stomach.

  Her fingers wound in his thick, dark hair, holding him to her as he switched his attention to her other breast. She twisted against him, seeking relief for the throbbing ache between her thighs.

  She was only vaguely aware that he was moving, carrying her easily, never ceasing the sweet tormait of his mouth on her breasts. By the time he at last allowed her to slide slowly the length of his body, she didn't have the strength to do more than cling to his shoulders. He eased her back and down. It wasn't until she felt the bed beneath her that she realized he'd brought her into the bedroom.

  "My God, Annalise!" The words were torn from him as he realized for the first time that she was wearing nothing but a pair of scandalously small blue panties and a matching lacy garter belt that held up a pair of sheer stockings.

  Seeing his stunned expression, she stretched, drawing up one leg and arching her back. For the second time that night she saw beads of sweat dampen his forehead, but for a very different reason this time.

  "Do you like them?" she asked him, her voice husky and seductive. She'd felt deliciously naughty when she bought them and positively wicked when she put them on. Now she felt all woman, a temptress in sapphire silk.

  "Like them?" He licked suddenly dry lips. "If I'd know you had them on, I'd have been hard all night," he admitted.

  "I bought them just for you." She ran the toes of one foot down his leg. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me?" As a Mae West imitator, she wasn't Ukely to make it professionally. But Devlin didn't seem to care.

  "Fm very happy to see you," he said with a husky laugh.

  He disposed of his clothes in record time, popping several buttons from his shirt when they refused to yield to his shaking fingers. Annalise felt her body flush in anticipation as the last of his clothes hit the floor, revealing the magnificent strength of his arousal.

  She reached her arms up to him, needing to feel him against her. She needed to feel him inside her, driving away the emptiness. Not just the physical emptiness but the emotional hollowness that only he could fill.

  At the sight of her reaching for him, Devlin felt his pulse pound in his temples, batoning at all rational thought beyond the primal need to feel her beneath him, to feel her holding him.

  His need was too great to allow time for dealing with anything as complex as garters. The delicate silk panties tore. Annalise didn't care. Her need was as deep as his.

  Her fingers clung to his shoulders as he came down to her, his hips wedging her legs apart. He entered her with one smooth, hard thrust, burying his aching flesh in the damp heat of her.

  She cried out as the deep ache in her was at once eased and sharpened. It wasn't enough. It couldn't ever be enough. She lifted her legs to take him deeper.

  wanting—needing—to feel him in every fiber of her being.

  The feel of her long legs, still sheathed in the thin nylon stockings, pressed against his hips made Devlin groan. He surged heavily against her, feeling her nails dig into his shoulders as she met his every thrust, her breathing coming in deep sobbing gasps.

  It was too intense to last very long. Devlin felt the delicate tightening of her body around him. He struggled to hold off his own climax, wanting it to last forever. But feeling Annalise shudder beneath him, hearing her call his name at the height of her pleasure, he felt himself dragged headlong into the vortssK of her peak.

  Annalise felt Devlin swdl even larger inside her and then a guttural cry was torn from him. She clung to him, letting his shuddering completion drive her higher still until nothing existed in the universe but the two of them.

  Devlin's body was heavy on hers, but it was a welcome weight. She'd never felt as complete in her life as she did when she held him in her arms. His breathing was still ragged when he moved to relieve her of his weight. She murmured a sleepy protest and clung to him.

  "FU crush you, sweetheart." The only time he used endearments was when they were in bed, another small intimacy that she savored. Reluctantly she loosened her arms, allowing him to ease to the side.

  "You realize, of course, that you could have caused me permanent physical damage," he said conversa-

  tionally. He slid his arm under her shoulders and drew her closer, tangling his fingers in her hair.

  "What did I do?" She rubbed her hand over his muscled chest.

  "Kissing me like that in the elevator," he reproached her huskily. "Especially when there wasn't anything I could do about it until I got you home."

  "Gee, rU try not to do it again."

  "Things like that can do permanent damage to a guy." Since he was carefully arranging her hair across her breast as he spoke, his fingers lingering on the tender peak of her nipple, Annalise didn't think he was too upset.

  "Fm sorry," she whispered, her back arching in an unconscious invitation as he stroked his thumb over her. She'd never have believed she could feel arousal so soon after the soul-shattering lovanaking they'd just experienced.

  "I suppose I could be persuaded to forgive you," he said softly. He shifted so that he was leaning on one elbow next to her, his shoulders blocking out the dim light.

  "You could?" Her voice was little more than a whisper as his fingers trailed across her stomach to find the lacy waistband of the garter belt.

  "But it would take some pretty powerful persuasion," he warned her.

  His mouth closed over hers, muffling the soft moan that suggested she was willing to be as persuasive as he liked.

  Chapter 11

  It was a scorchingly hot summer day when Reed Hall's rental car rumbled down the driveway. Anna-lise had spent the morning pulling weeds from the small flower bed she'd put in on the curve at the end of the driveway, but the heat had driven her to retreat to the shade affor
ded by the porch.

  Devlin had invested in a glider to supplement the lawn chair that had been the porch's only furnishing. Annalise settled into its cushioned comfort, drawing one leg up under her, leaving the toe of her other foot on the floor to keep the glider in motion.

  Beauty had joined her after directing a token hiss m Lobo's direction, a gesture that was greeted with magnificent indifference by the big dog. Annalise had worried about his reaction to Beauty and her kittens, but it had proved a groundless concern.

  Lobo, for all his dangerous looks, had proved to be endlessly tolerant of assorted kitten-launched attacks. In that respect, he reminded Annalise irresistibly of Devlin, hiding a marshmallow-soft interior behind a forbidding exterior.

  The heat had a somnolent effect. She was drowsily contemplating whether or not to expend the energy required to go into the house and stretch out on the bed when she heard a car turn off the road onto the lane.

  Devlin had been hanging drywall in the living room, but the sound of the car drew him out onto the porch.

  "Are you expecting anyone?" Annalise asked him, sitting up to watch the dust-covered sedan approach.

  "No." He narrowed his eyes against the bright sun.

  The man who slid out from behind the wheel nearly matched Devlin's six feet two inches, but any resemblance ended there. The sun caught in hair of such a pale blond it approached white. Where Devlin was broad shouldered and sohd, this man was slender, though the casual knit shirt revealed the taut ripple of muscles in his arms. He moved with an easy grace that made Annalise think of athletes she'd seen on television.

  "Reed." Devlin said the name under his breath. AnnaUse drew her eyes from the newcomer and looked up at him. As usual, it was impossible to read his expression, although she thought there was a certain tension in his shoulders that suggested the visitor was not entirely welcome.

  "A friend of yours?"

  "More or less." But he didn't move forward to greet the man. Reed crossed the yard, stopping at the foot of the steps, his head tilted to look up at Devlin.

  "I was in the neighborhood. Hope you don't mind."

  His voice was deep and slow, with the merest trace of a drawl to hint at a Southern background.

  "Reed." For a moment, Devlin didn't seem to have anything to say beyond the flat greeting. Annalise's eyes darted between the two men, wondering just what a "more or less" friend was.

  "It's good to see you," Devlin said at last. He stepped forward, extending his hand.

  Reed's lean face features relaxed in a smile. He climbed the steps and took Devlin's hand, shaking it with unmistakable warmth.

  "It's good to see you, Devlin. You're looking good."

  "Well, I pretty well had to look better than I did the last time you saw me," Devlin said, his mouth twisting with a bitter humor Annalise didn't understand.

  Before Reed could respond, Devlin turned to draw Annalise into the picture.

  "Annalise, this is Reed Hall, a... friend of mine." The hesitation before the word friend did not go unnoticed by Reed, but he didn't seem disturbed. "Reed, this is Annalise St. John. She's staying with me."

  Not, "She's living with me." Annalise noticed how he avoided making her presence seem too permanent. She swallowed the twinge of disappointment she felt and stood up.

  "I didn't realize Etevlin had such good taste," Reed said with an easy smile.

  "Thank you." Up dose, she realized that his eyes were an unusual shade of pure green, without the slightest hint of gold. The combination of that pale hair and brilliant eyes was striking.

  ''I made some lemonade earlier," she said as she withdrew her hand from his. *'Would you like some?"

  "Sounds wonderful. I was begiiming to think I should have bought a canteen in the last town."

  Annalise wondered just how good a friend Devlin considered Reed. Certainly he'd never mentioned the man to her. But then, though she thought they'd attained a certain closeness these past weeks, there was still a big part of himself that Devlin kept walled off. Most of his past was behind that wall.

  Considering his rather wary greeting when Reed showed up, Annalise was surprised when Devlin invited the other man to use the spare bedroom, especially since he must have known that it meant she'd have to move her clothing and few personal possessions into the master bedroom. They might have been sharing a bed for weeks, but he'd never suggested that she move her belongings into his bedroom and she hadn't mentioned it.

  While Devlin and Reed were talking, she excused herself and hastily gathered her clothing from the spare bedroom and deposited it on DevUn's bed.

  There was no chance to discuss the move with Devlin until just before dinner when Reed took his suitcase into his room to clean up before the meal.

  Devlin was slicing v^etables for a tossed salad while Annalise kept an eye on the marinated chicken she'd slipped into the broiler.

  "I put my things in your room," she said. "I assumed that was what you wanted." She slid him a questioning look, wondering if he was going to feel that she'd stepped across that invisible barrier he kq)t around himself.

  "Sure. Clear whatever closet and drawer space you need."

  Devlin shced a cucumber with quick, sure strokes. Reed's unexpected visit had given him the excuse he needed to get Annalise moved into his bedroom. She shared his bed, but every morning she disappeared into the other bedroom to shower and dress.

  At first, he'd thought it the perfect arrangement. It kept the true nature of their relationship perfectly clear. They were lovers but they weren't seriously involved. This was only a temporary arrangement for both of them, a chance to heal a few old wounds before moving on.

  But lately, he'd started to realize that sharing a bed but not a bedroom was nothing more than a smoke screen he'd put up to try to convince himself of the ephemeral nature of their involvement. The fact was, he was more deeply involved with Annalise St. John than he'd ever expected, or wanted, to be with a woman. And he could debate the wisdom of that involvement from now till doomsday, but it wasn't going to change the reaUty of it.

  As long as they were involved, he didn't want her sneaking out of his room to go to hers to shower and

  dress. Of course, he could have just suggested that she move her things into his room. But that might imply a commitment he wouldn't—couldn't—make.

  Reed's visit had given him the perfect opportunity to get Annalise to move into his room without getting into a discussion of what the move really meant.

  God, when had he become such a manipulative bastard?

  He brought the knife down with too much force, causing it to slip sideways on the cutting board and nick the base of his thumb.

  "Damn!" He lifted the injured hand to his mouth.

  "Are you hurt?" Annalise darted to him, taking hold of his wrist to examine the injury.

  "It's not bad."

  "It should have a bandage. Here, rinse it off and I'll get the peroxide." Without waiting for his consent, she turned on the cold-water tap and thrust his hand under it.

  With the cold water rushing over his hand, Devlin watched her rummage in the cupboard next to the sink, searching for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a box of adhesive strips. There was a small, concerned frown pleating her forehead. She was worried about him.

  The thought flowed over him like a warm sunshine. In his life, there'd been few people who ever worried about him. His mother had never quite come into the real world long enough to worry about anyone but herself. And his father's only concern had been beating all traces of sin out of him.

  Kelly cared enough to worry about him. Other than his sister, the only name that came to mind was Reed's. And even that had been largely because it was his job to worry about his client.

  But Annalise wasn't his sister and she wasn't his lawyer. She wasn't bound by familial or professional obligations to be concerned. She just was.

  "Here." She turned from the cupboard and shut off the water. Wrapping his hand in a soft cotton towel,
she dried it gaitly. Devlin found himself regretting that it was such a minor cut. It seemed a pity for her to expend all that sweet concern on anything less than arterial bleeding. She examined the small cut, her frown easing.

  "It really isn't too bad. Here, this may sting a little." She poured the hydrogen peroxide over the cut, lifting anxious eyes to his face as the liquid foamed into the injury.

  "Waiting to see me writhe in agony?" His mouth quirked with humor.

  "I just don't like hurting people, even in a good cause." She picked up an adhesive strip and opened it. "I always hated it when Mary injured herself. Sometimes, it was all I could do to keep from crying more than she did."

  It was the first time he'd heard her mention her daughter since the night she'd told him about the child. She placed the strip across the cut, pressing the adhesive portion to his hand before lifting her eyes to his face again.

  "I haven't thought about that in a long time," she said slowly. "It doesn't seem to hurt as much to think

  about her anymore. I guess maybe time really does heal all wounds."

  "I guess so." Devlin lifted his newly bandaged hand to brush a lock of hair back from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. He wished suddenly that time could heal the wounds that had eaten into his soul, that he could beUeve the time would come when he'd feel whole, when he might be able to offer her something more than what he was now.

  "Are you aware that you have a small squad of furred terrorists living in your house?" Reed's question preceded him. Devlin's hand dropped away from Annalise's face and he stepped back.

  When Reed stepped on the other side of the breakfast bar, he had a gray kitten in his hand, one long finger rubbing absently between its ears.

  "I should have warned you about them," Annalise said, when Devlin didn't seem to have a response. "They're at the mischievous age."

  "Mischievous? After climbing my pant leg—while I was still in the pants, I'd like to point out—he proceeded to launch a vicious attack on one of my shoelaces."

  "Yes. Well, we haven't quite managed to convince them that shoelaces aren't alien invaders." Annalise pulled the chicken out of the broiler and poked it experimentally. "I think supper's about ready."