Devil's Deception by Doreen Owens Malek Page B

Devlin’s room. She knocked tentatively and there was no answer.
    She rapped harder. “Come on, Brett. Open the door. Please. I want to talk to you.”
    The door swung inward slowly, and Devlin stepped back, watching her as she entered the room. Angela held up the card and he looked away.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
    He didn’t answer.
    “I’m sorry I thought the flowers were from Philip,” she said. “It didn’t occur to me that you would get me a gift.”
    He turned away from her.
    Angela caught his arm. “Brett, listen to me. I would never deliberately hurt you, don’t you know that? But how could I have guessed you would do this? You’ve hardly spoken to me for weeks. I naturally thought that Philip would remember my birthday.”
    “Oh, he’ll remember it,” Devlin replied sarcastically. “With a diamond tiara, or a mink coat, or a castle on the Rhine. I don’t think potted plants are exactly his style.”
    “They’re exactly my style,” she said gently. “What made you think of it?” Her fingers closed around his wrist.
    He gestured vaguely with his free hand. “I saw it, and it reminded me of you. Tall, slender, and exotic. And the color of the blooms, the way the crimson bleeds into pale peach at the tip of the petal. That’s the shade your hair is in the sunlight.”
    Angela couldn’t speak.
    He reached out and pulled her hair free of her collar, running the strands through his fingers.
    “Such beautiful hair,” he murmured. “I never saw such beautiful hair.” In one convulsive movement he pulled her to him and buried his face in the auburn mass against her neck.
    Angela wound her arms around his waist, almost sobbing with relief. He did care about her. He did!
    When he raised his head she touched his cheek tenderly. He seized her hand and kissed it, pressing his lips into her palm.
    “Why?” she began, and he shook his head, putting his finger to her mouth.
    “Don’t ask me questions I can’t answer,” he said hoarsely. He bent swiftly and picked her up, carrying her to his bed.
    Angela lay quietly, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. His heart beat rapidly beneath her ear, and she snuggled against his chest as he knelt to slip her onto the quilt. He dropped down next to her and gathered her into his arms.
    Devlin’s kisses fell wildly on her face and hair, and Angela had to hold him still to kiss him back on the mouth. He made a sound of satisfaction deep in his throat and nudged her lips to open them, finding her tongue with his. Angela gasped as his hands moved beneath her sweater, seeking the hook of her bra. His touch burned, it seemed to scald her as he released the catch and pushed her down on the bed, pulling both garments over her head in one smooth movement.
    He had a pebble hard nipple in his mouth before her back touched the mattress. Angela moaned with the exquisite sensation, caressing his hair, the knotted muscles of his back and shoulders.
    “Take this off,” she whispered. “I want to feel us together.” She tugged impatiently at the cloth of his shirt.
    He half sat and unbuttoned it rapidly, tossing it on the floor. Then he enveloped her, covering her completely, holding himself up slightly on his hands. It wasn’t enough; Angela encircled his neck with her arms and tugged until he was lying on top of her. When she felt his full weight she sighed blissfully and arched to meet him.
    His skin was delicious, warm and fragrant, smelling of soap. Angela ran her tongue across his upper arm, watching the tendons flex, noting the heavy blue veins and solid tone of his well conditioned body. He slid his fingers along the curve of her neck, and her head fell back; he pressed his lips into the hollow at the base of her throat.
    “I can’t take this anymore,” he muttered thickly. “I have to have you now, tonight.”
    “I want you too,” Angela replied, and he shifted off her, unsnapping the waistband of her jeans, pulling them off quickly