that.’ Until he had more Alps experience, anyway.
‘Like you’re fine when you, you—’ she flung a frustrated arm towards the rain ‘—when you wrestle with maniacs in the street.’
His groan was half growl. ‘Eden, please—’
‘You don’t shy away from danger, risk, adventure,’ she went on. ‘While I, on the other hand, am a big fan of silly things like safety, security, predictability. It was nice while it lasted, Devlin. Really nice. But let’s face it…’ Her green eyes glistened and her voice lowered. ‘I wasn’t exciting enough for you. We’d drifted apart even before you left for Scotland that day.’
The pain and regret in her eyes faded before resignation dropped like a mask over her face once again. She dragged in a breath and, as if they’d been discussing the weather, inspected the sky. ‘I think the rain’s easing off.’
His arms knotted over his wet thumping chest.
Not so quick.
‘We’re not finished.’
‘We were finished three years ago.’
He measured her with his eyes. She appeared reconciled, but he saw the way her chest rose and fell beneath that designer dress, the way she bit her lip as she angled her face away.
Five days a week he sat behind a desk, organising specialist crews to tackle handson tasks associated with offshore rigs. So what was wrong with getting outdoors and amongst it himself when he could? He wanted to live life, damn it, not stand back and watch the world go by.
Why couldn’t Eden get that about him? They’d always been so in tune in other ways. They’d laughed at the same things, liked the same food, enjoyed the same music. They were explosive in the bedroom. And, as far as being distant before he’d left was concerned…
He ground his back teeth and rearranged his feet.
There was that one episode…the morning when she’d sat parked at the end of his kitchen counter, dressed in his Raiders tee, pink fluffy slippers on her feet, flipping through a jewellery catalogue. She’d looked up, wound some golden hair behind an ear and murmured, ‘Hey, babe, whatchoo doing?’ Then she’d sent over an angelic wanna-take-me-back-to-bed smile. If she’d been checking out necklaces or earrings in that catalogue, broaches or bracelets or charms—
But diamond rings…?
He winced at the same time a phone buzzed. Eden collected her cell, then the BlackBerry on his belt sounded.
While he listened to his voicemail, Eden read a text then carefully put her phone away. Her dazed look must have matched his own.
‘That text was from Sabrina,’ she murmured. ‘She wants me to meet her.’
‘Mine was from Nate. He said the same.’
She hunted down his gaze. ‘To meet him at a city hotel?’
She named the place and he nodded. ‘Nate said he had some important news to share.’
She visibly paled. ‘You don’t think they’ve done something foolish?’
‘Like get married?’
‘Like get pregnant.’
Devlin’s surroundings seemed to darken, tunnel, then caved in.
Given the brothers’ family history, a quickie wedding didn’t seem likely. Marriage certainly didn’t feature anywhere near the top of Devlin’s personal agenda. However, if Nate had exchanged vows after six short weeks, the move was far from fatal. If sweet turned to sour, there was always divorce, an option his parents should’ve considered before pushing ahead and having two kids.
But if Nate had got this girl pregnant—if Sabrina was carrying Nate’s baby—that was sacrosanct. As far as responsibility and duty went, there was no middle ground where a child was concerned. A man had to be there for his own flesh and blood. Nate would appreciate that fact.
Again employing his jacket as a makeshift umbrella, Devlin dashed out into the lashing rain and lunged off the pavement to stop a slow-moving cab. As the yellow pulled up, he signalled Eden over. She bolted towards him, kicking up water as her heels smacked the puddles.
But when he opened the passenger door, she hesitated, her hair glued to her scalp, lashes heavy with rain, that dress shrinking before his appreciative eyes.
‘Maybe I should get the next one,’ he heard her say over the torrent.
Now they were out of that cubbyhole they’d sheltered in, she didn’t want to be close to him? She didn’t trust him. Or was it that Eden didn’t trust herself?
Done with the tippy-toe show, he flung his jacket into the back of the cab then stood tall, hands low on hips, legs braced apart. ‘I have a better idea. Why don’t we just get this over with?’
Her brow furrowed as rain sped down her cheeks and curled around her chin. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do.’
She scoffed. ‘You think you know everything.’
‘Let’s say I’m working on it.’
He stepped into the space separating them, drew her against his chest and, before she could object, he kissed her—deeply, passionately and without a hint of mercy. And, at long last, he had his answer.
Because Eden stiffened, shivered.
Then she kissed him back.
CHAPTER TWO
THE heady sensation of Devlin’s mouth moving over hers had the same effect as a defibrillator igniting a stalled heartbeat.
Electric. Life-giving.
Essential for survival.
Somewhere in the back of her whirling mind, Eden knew they stood on a pavement, in the middle of a downpour, smack-dab in the centre of Sydney. But, like a billowing mist, the memory of everything that had come before grew hazy. All she knew—all she wanted to know—was the natural high humming through her blood, the jet of flames leaping from his body directly to hers.
As his big hot hands wove along her shoulders to cup her wet face, her mind’s eye saw his broad shoulders looming over her. Helpless to fight against the tide, she gripped his soaked shirt as burgeoning desire thickened and ached in her throat.
His palm scooped around her nape and gently tugged her hair until her mouth opened more. He kissed deeper, stepped closer. When the solid ridge trapped inside his trousers pressed against her belly, her pelvic floor pulsed with burning want. Three years without his caress…all those nights spent alone…
Way too good.
Way too long.
His touch slid down to settle firmly on the small of her back as the edge of his tongue swept around
