Kira Sinclair - The Devil She Knows

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Willow Portis tries extra hard to be The Good Girl of Sweetheart, South Carolina. But the night of the Masquerade, she steps out of her well-behaved shoes and into a super-sexy angel costume. And when she’s tempted by a stranger, she gives in!But there’ll be hell to pay when the masks come off and she realises her stranger is no stranger at all!

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Watching him let go was beautiful, and she wished she’d let him take off the mask so she could see more. See all of him. Before, it had felt right, the barrier she’d kept in place. Now, after what they’d just shared, it felt wrong to have anything between them.

Her body pulsed. Pleasure and something more fizzled through her veins. He collapsed beside her. Willow’s body quivered, a spent mess.

Their legs tangled together, but she was too drained to try to unravel the knot. His arm, draped across her waist, tightened to pull her closer.

“You are definitely no angel.”

* * *

HE WAS IN serious trouble.

Dev stared down at Willow as she slept. He couldn’t settle. His conscience wouldn’t let him. What had he done?

She was going to be pissed when she realized who he was. And, really, he wouldn’t blame her. But the moment he’d followed her inside...he’d been lost.

The sight of her standing in the dark hallway, moonlight falling across her pale skin and those wings...he’d had to touch. And once his fingers slipped across her smooth skin he couldn’t stop.

When she’d told him to keep the masks on he’d been relieved...and guilty as hell. He knew, without a doubt, that the moment she saw his face that would be the end of it. And he’d waited to touch her for so long.

But that didn’t change the fact that he’d royally screwed up. It had been a very long time since he’d let his dick do his thinking. Damn thing tended to get him into serious trouble. The question was, how to fix this? If that was even possible.

With a sigh, Willow rolled onto her side. The skin between her eyes crinkled. Then she burrowed into his prostrate body and her entire face smoothed out into sleepy contentment.

Oh, yeah, he was in deep shit.

Her shocking-red hair spread across the pillow. Staring down at her, Dev was careful not to pull as he threaded his fingers through it. He wanted to know what it would look like without the artificial color. His memory of her told him it should be a deep, rich brown that reminded him of fertile, fresh-tilled soil.

She smelled so good. Pressing his nose close to the exposed crook of her neck, he breathed her in. Something soft, sweet and subtle, like honeysuckle on a perfect summer morning.

He wanted more.

And that was really the crux of the problem. One night with her wasn’t enough. But when she realized who he was...

The thought of that conversation had dread tightening his gut.

He had two choices. He could leave now and avoid the issue all together. Play this off as the one-night stand she probably thought she’d just had. But that really wasn’t going to work for him. Not only did he not want to leave, but he couldn’t avoid the confrontation.

Eventually she was going to see him in town and realize who she’d had amazing sex with.

Or he could stay. Brazen it out and try to convince her that he hadn’t set out to take advantage of her. That screwing her hadn’t been about revenge, but heat and long-denied attraction.

Sliding down, he tucked her body tighter, enjoying the way she fit perfectly against him. Her hair was still clutched in his fist, an unconscious attempt to hold on to what he fully expected to lose.

Had she dyed it for the costume or did she keep it red all the time? He hoped it was temporary. It didn’t suit her. At all. Not that it was bad...it just wasn’t Willow. Or at least, the Willow he remembered.

Although why he thought he understood her at all he didn’t know. Ten years was a long time. He was proof of that. Look at how different he was from the rebellious and angry boy he’d been.

God, he’d been a prick when he’d moved to Sweetheart, defiantly wearing the label on his sleeve. Consumed with pain he didn’t want anyone to see. His mom, a drug addict who’d only cared about her next fix, had died from an overdose. He’d been the one to find her pale body, lifeless and cold. And even if she’d been a shitty mother...she’d been his. And it had hurt.

Everyone looked at him and judged. The other kids he went to school with. The teachers who should have been a source of knowledge and help, but were too busy to notice he was lost. Although, it really hadn’t been their fault. It wasn’t like he was ever around long enough for anyone to put the pieces together.

Dev had lost count how many times his family had been evicted because neither parent could hold a job or bother to pay rent. Moving from place to place meant school to school. After his dad went to jail there’d been several months he hadn’t bothered going to class at all. And no one had noticed.

Before Sweetheart he’d never really had a home. A roof over his head, sure. Not a home. But his grandfather had given him one...at least for a little while.

No matter how long he’d lived there, he’d never quite let himself relax. Five years in one place was unheard of for him. And he just kept waiting for it to end. It was almost a relief, when the look in his grandfather’s eyes changed from exasperated love to enraged disappointment and the fairy tale was finally over.

Once again, everyone had judged him, looking for the worst and finding only what they expected.

But they’d all been wrong. Sure, he’d floundered for a few months trying to find a way through the mess he’d landed in. Who would have known that picking up an odd job on a construction site could change his life so drastically? He’d never forget the man who’d given him a chance and seen beneath the grimy exterior to the potential lurking deep inside.

He’d gone back to school, finished his degree, and started Devlin Landscaping & Design. At any given time he had hundreds of people working for him all over the country.

Willow had lived in the world he’d wanted desperately to be a part of, but couldn’t quite believe he had the right to. She’d been different. Or so he’d thought. But in the end, she’d pushed him away just like his grandfather, easily believing the lies.

Once he might have known the sound of her laughter and the way her eyes darkened when she was angry, but that obviously wasn’t enough.

He should probably feel remorse for what he’d just done, but he couldn’t muster up the emotion. It would mean he regretted tonight, and he didn’t. Maybe he would later, when the piper had to be paid, but for the moment the satisfaction was too close to the surface.

Trouble would find him soon enough, anyway. It always did. Besides, with her naked body pressed close he wanted another taste. There was no point asking for absolution if he fully intended to sin again.

He hadn’t gone to that party with the intention of picking someone up. Considering what had happened, sleeping with anyone his first day back in Sweetheart was probably the worst decision he could have made. The fact that it had been Willow just compounded the stupidity.

She really was nothing like her sister, which was a good thing. Rose had been provoking and selfish, caring about no one but herself. Willow was soft and quiet. Giving. Reserved, even if tonight she had wanted to pretend she was daring.

But, God, beneath all the polished restraint she was passionate. And nothing like the women he normally connected with.

He liked to get down and dirty, in his job, in bed and in general. Life was too short and too much shit happened. Shit that no one could predict or control.

So tonight he was going to enjoy the moment. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the rest.

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