“Hey, you’re not the one who’ll be using sex to…” Lexi paused. “Wait a minute-”
“Shut up,” said Devin.
Lexi laughed at Devin’s outrage. Then she sobered. “Okay.” She smoothed back her hair. “I’ll vamp the tall cowboy. You snoop around inside the house. Someday, this is going to make a funny story for Amelia.”
With Amelia safely down for her nap, and Lexi running interference with Byron down at the pool, and Lucas gone to the office, Devin crept into Konrad’s silent bedroom.
It was an opulent suite on the north wing of the second floor, down the hall from Lucas. Elaborate gold and cream ceilings blended into crown molding that outlined the L-shaped room. A huge, four-poster bed was set into the alcove. A sitting area was formed by four brown leather, overstuffed armchairs that surrounded a marble fireplace and two antique, glass-topped tables. Three bay windows brought sunshine in from the ocean side, while a boxed window above the king-size bed overlooked the pool.
The thick carpet was soft under her canvas runners, and she found her gaze drawn to three massive seascapes hanging on the pale yellow walls. The scenes were calm and soothing, with whispery grasses and delicate wildflowers blooming along the shores. It wasn’t what she would have expected of Konrad.
Taking a bracing breath, and telling herself she had no choice but to snoop, she started with a small desk in one corner, carefully and quietly pulling open the three drawers. The contents were impersonal-a pad of paper, a few gold pens, a phone book and a calculator.
Next, she moved to one of the dressers, wiping her damp palms across her blue jeans before flipping up the iron handles and pulling open the top drawer. It was Konrad’s underwear. Though she herself kept many precious bits and pieces in her underwear drawer, she wasn’t going there. There might be a signed confession hidden beneath his boxers, but she wasn’t willing to dig it out.
The remaining dresser drawers mostly held T-shirts, sweatpants and pajamas. She closed them up and moved to the closet.
There she was shocked to find some of Monica’s clothes still hanging in neat rows and folded on banks of shelves. At least Devin assumed they were Monica’s clothes. They were about the right size, and it was definitely Monica’s wedding dress hanging in the far corner, covered in plastic film.
For a moment, Devin’s throat closed up with loneliness. She took a few steps closer and reached out to touch the dress.
It had been such a blissful wedding, full of excitement and promise. It was the most elegant event Devin had ever attended and, at the time, she’d fully expected Monica to live happily ever after.
Monica had been radiant, and Devin herself had felt incredibly beautiful that night. She’d worn a floor-length, violet silk dress, with a spray of flowers in her hair, and a delicate diamond pendant that Monica had given her as a bridesmaid gift. She’d danced with other guests until her feet were blistered, toasted the bride with expensive champagne, nibbled on crab puffs and ate two pieces of cake.
Later, when Monica walked out on Konrad, they’d trashed her bridesmaid dress and thrown out the pictures. But Devin hadn’t had the heart to get rid of the pendant.
Her sister’s veil hung next to the white silk dress. The shoes on a bottom shelf. And above the shoes…
Devin crouched down. She stared intently before running her fingertips over the smooth white cover of their wedding photo album.
It had been a year since she’d seen any of the wedding pictures. After only a moment’s hesitation, she slipped the album from the shelf and sat fully down on the thick carpet. With a deep breath, she opened the cover.
Monica was on the first page, standing alone in her wedding dress, silhouetted against the arched oak door of the stone church building. The dress was a masterpiece, several thousand seed pearls sewn into a strapless bodice with a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt, all accented with antique lace. They’d ordered it from a famous designer in Italy. Monica had balked at the price, but Konrad had insisted.
A tear slipped from Devin’s eye as she turned the page. There, she saw Konrad, looking sharp in his tux. She struggled to work up some anger toward him, but all she could remember was how she and Monica laughed over a groom who owned not one, but half a dozen tuxedos. What kind of a man required half a dozen tuxes?
The next page showed Monica, Devin and the other bridesmaids-two of Monica’s college roommates. They were laughing as they displayed their bouquets of irises and white roses. The photo had been taken moments before they moved from the anteroom to the foyer of the church. On the way down the narrow hallway, Monica had nearly caused a disaster, tripping on the hem of her elaborate dress and stumbling into Devin.
Fortunately, Devin caught Monica, the bouquets survived and the wedding guests hadn’t heard their burst of laughter.
Devin swiped another tear from her cheek.
Next, she came to a picture of the wedding cake. It was a decadently rich, lemon-butter pound cake, six round tiers with white Belgian chocolate ganache. A pale gold luster adorned the icing, while a colorful waterfall of fresh flowers swirled diagonally down from a top bouquet. Devin got hungry just looking at it.
She flipped another page and came to Lucas.
“
Devin nearly dropped the album in shock. Her gaze flew to the closet entrance to see him looming over her, dressed in a business suit instead of a tux, frowning and furious instead of smiling for the camera.
“Don’t
“What are you doing in here?” he repeated, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Guilt and alarm invaded her system. “I…uh…” She swallowed over a sandpaper throat. What could she say? How could she possibly explain the fact that she was sitting on the floor of Konrad’s closet?
“I got lost,” she told him in a small voice, sticking to the only story she’d crafted. Then she glanced at the album, holding it up as if it proved something. “I happened to spot this, and then…well, I started looking, and remembering.” She made a show of swiping her cheek with the back of her hand, hoping for the sympathy vote she supposed, since her excuse was transparently lame.
Lucas took a couple of steps into the closet.
“You got lost?” he challenged, the skepticism all but dripping from his tone.
“I, uh, took a wrong turn.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Out there in the hall. This is a really big house.”
She told herself to shut up.
His answering silence was unnerving.
After a long moment, he crouched down beside her. He cocked his head to peer at the picture on the open page.
“You looked very handsome at the wedding,” she offered, pointing to his image. Truth was, he’d looked amazing that night and every other time she’d seen him, including now.
She’d tried, but she hadn’t come close to banishing her memories of last night in the pool house. He’d looked amazing then, too.
“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she lied.
He reached out and tucked her hair behind one ear, letting his hand rest there. “Then you’re saying you find me attractive?”
“Yeess,” she offered slowly, beginning to worry where he thought this might be leading.
He ran the pad of his thumb from her cheekbone to the shell of her ear, and along her jawbone.
Her pulse jumped at the intimacy of the touch. But she forced herself to keep still, torn between trepidation and arousal, with only one tiny, sane part of her brain reminding her she had to put a stop to this.
She reached up and grasped his wrist, attempting to tug his hand away.
She failed.
A lazy smile grew on his face, and his breath puffed sweetly against her cheek, even as his thumb meandered to the curve of her neck. “I can’t help wondering.” He paused. “Just how far you’d be willing to go to keep me distracted.”
She swallowed again, her heart thudding deep in her tightening chest. “Why…” Her voice was a rasp. “Why would I need to keep you distracted?”
He leaned closer. “Because you’re up to no good.”
