Vivian Arend - High Passion

She took a deep breath and stretched, rubbing lazily against him. “I can’t think of anyone important who’d be calling me.”

Her smile faded as a shadow crossed her eyes.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Well, something, but at the same time nothing important. Not really.”

Devon laughed, stroking his fingers down her body and enjoying how she arched into his touch. “That was complete and utter gibberish. Why don’t you try again?”

She caught his hand and pulled it off where he’d gotten stuck on her breast. “I might have used your name in vain the other night. The phone call reminded me.”

“Oh, really?” He leaned on an elbow. “Did you out me to the fashion police? Sign off your excessive drink tab in my name at the Rose and Crown like Xavier tried?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I might have told someone you were my boyfriend.”

Oh, really? His mind raced as he escaped her hold and returned to teasing her skin. “Now, the other night. That limits who you might have said such a thing to. Couldn’t be any of the crew, because we’d have been teased mercilessly this morning otherwise.”

Alisha waited, a touch of something in her eyes that wasn’t quite fear but also wasn’t the bold woman he’d seen on the side of the mountain this morning.

Insight hit. “Ahhh, night as in your not-hot date with Vincent the Vampire?”

She snorted. “He doesn’t sparkle.”

“I was thinking more of the classic bloodsuckers. Wears fancy duds, has no sense of humour.” Devon sat all the way up and pulled her into his arms. “Was there a reason you needed to use my name like holy oil to fend him off?”

She wrapped her fingers around his biceps. “He was being more aggressive than I wanted. I thought if I told him I was otherwise occupied, he’d get the hint and leave me alone.”

Devon nodded. “Did it work?”

She grimaced. “Sort of.”

“How can discouraging a guy work ��sort of’?” Then Lana leapt to mind, and Devon made a face of his own. “Wait, no, I get it. People are idiots.”

“Word.” She slipped from his arms and rotated on the mattress, flipping her hair over her shoulders. She was bare from the waist up, and he was going to get all distracted in a minute, so he had to make this fast.

“I totally forgive you, and I’d be honoured to be your boyfriend. Especially if it requires a lot more fucking your brains out.”

“So classy.” She grinned. “And definitely.”

“Also, I might have thrown you under the same bus,” he confessed.

Alisha blinked in surprise. “You said you had a boyfriend?” He stared at her for a second before she broke, her deadpan delivery falling apart as she crawled across the bed to straddle his thighs. “Well, in light of the fucking and whatall that’s going on, I suppose we can use the dirty, dirty titles of boyfriend and girlfriend . Who did you out us to?”

“My sister.”

She clapped a hand over his mouth. “You did not.”

He nodded.

She rolled her eyes. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

“She was taunting me. You don’t understand Thanksgiving at my parents’,” Devon insisted when Alisha let his mouth free. “It’s like Grand Central Station, only everyone milling around is related to me, and they all have short people in tow. The only positive is since I’m the only one who doesn’t live in town, they don’t make me cook.”

“Which is probably good.”

She wasn’t frowning anymore, and that was good as well. “Yeah, well, it’s not because they’re being generous. Instead they make me bring liquor to accompany the meal, and my dad’s got some high-flying idea to try all these expensive wines before he kicks the bucket. Guess who gets stuck buying those babies, since I’m not cooking or kid-herding?”

“How does you having a girlfriend mean you get to attend without bottles in your hand?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Devon, no.”

He followed her as she scrambled off the mattress and headed toward the door. “We just have to show up, make polite conversation, and eat until we’re stuffed enough to satisfy my mother, and then we can escape. It’s not that scary.” He paused. Considered. “Okay, it is scary, but you’re brave. You can face down your fears and help me face mine.”

She dug through her bag by the front door to pull out a pair of sweatpants. When she stood, he made sure he was looking her in the eye, and not at the more delectable bits that he really hadn’t had enough of yet.

Alisha shook her head. “You are something crazy.”

“Hey, you did it, too.”

She pulled on a T-shirt without putting on a bra first, a move he completely approved of. “I didn’t invite you to join Vincent and me for a family dinner, though, did I?”

“If I had to, I would go.” Devon nodded seriously.

She crossed her arms, her expression breaking into a smirk as she eyed him up and down. “I’m sure you would. Are you planning on staying naked all evening? We could pretend you’re my slave boy or something if that helps you stay in character.”

He didn’t give a rip that he was standing in the front hallway naked. Devon stepped in closer and pulled her to him, her soft cotton clothing heating between their bodies. “Tell me you’ll save my life.”

She caught him around the waist. “How can I turn down that adorable smile? And I did do it to you first, so you’re forgiven.”

He kissed her briefly before breaking away to get dressed. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She pulled her phone out to check her messages, a frown returning to cloud her expression.

It was crazy, the temptation to invite her to stay. He never let anyone stay overnight. Rarely had anyone into the house for that matter. For all his playboy reputation he had a rather sedate love life, a fact that no one believed, of course.

He hurried into the living room and found her curled up on the couch with a family photo album, the one sister number two had sent him after his parents’ fortieth anniversary party. He lifted her legs and sat, lowering her limbs into his lap and tugging the album so he could see it as well.

“You went to this party in June, right?” Alisha asked. “Oh, wow, do you ever look like your father.”

“All my brothers do.”

She leaned forward. “How long has he had to use the wheelchair?”

For a second, the pain that never quite went away froze his vocal cords. Devon jerked himself under control and focused on the facts. Then on distraction. “Over fifteen years. Didn’t you meet him? He and my mom came to our grad for Banff Search and Rescue—oh, wait, you didn’t stick around for the party.”

This time she was the one who paused, just for a second. “No.”

Nothing more. No offer of why she’d vanished, no mention of why her family hadn’t come to celebrate with her. He probably wouldn’t have even noticed her hesitation if he hadn’t been so keen on changing the topic.

Devon chose to ignore her lack of sharing and go back to safer topics regarding his family.

He didn’t forget, however. He knew what he was avoiding talking about. It was far easier to focus on her and what she was hiding. The entire time he pointed out his siblings and the multiple offspring that crowded the pages of the album, he was thinking about her and her family. Google had finally coughed up a name and a business. Adding Vincent to the other information he’d skimmed from the Lifeline office had led him straight to Bailey Enterprises.

Only it didn’t make sense, her lack of connection to her family. His family was a pain at times. There was no doubt he had his hot buttons when it came to them, but his frustrations didn’t stop him from spending time with them.