Devil's Deception by Doreen Owens Malek Read Free Book Online Page B

symmetry of his torso. She halted, staring at it.
    “You were hurt,” she said softly. “What happened to you?”
    “I was cut,” he answered gruffly, forcing himself to keep walking.
    “But this must have been serious,” she said, reaching out to touch him. He stopped cold. Angela traced the line of scar tissue with her hand, her fingers leaving a trail of sensation on his skin.
    Devlin’s chest heaved and he pulled back convulsively.
    “Jesus, Angela, don’t,” he ground out, agonized. The juice he was holding splashed onto his hand as he shoved the glass into the sink.
    Angela’s eyes flashed to his face. It was the first time he had used her name.
    His gaze held hers intently for a long moment before he muttered something under his breath and pulled her into his arms.
    Angela clung to him tightly, rubbing her face on the satiny expanse of his shoulder, kissing him with abandon wherever she could. She felt his lips moving in her hair.
    “I was going crazy in that damned restaurant,” he said huskily in her ear. “I wanted you to be with me.
    “I was,” Angela whispered. “Oh, Brett, I was.” She ran her hands down his back, loving the feel of his powerful body, and he pulled on her hair to raise her head. Her lips were parting eagerly as he crushed them with his.
    This was unlike most first kisses. There was nothing tentative or searching about it. It was as if they had both thought about the moment for so long that when it arrived they fell into it headlong, without hesitation, fused in a sudden burst of mutual passion. Angela’s mouth opened under Devlin’s, and her fingers crept up and over his shoulders, sinking languidly into his soft, thick hair.
    Devlin wasn’t content for long just to kiss her; his lips moved to her throat, inside the opening of her robe, and his tongue trailed along her collarbone, making her shiver with delight. He held her to him with one arm clasped about her waist and undid the tie belt of her robe with his other hand. Angela felt the searing brand of his touch through her thin batiste nightgown, the probing of his thumb against a hardened nipple, the sweet weight of his palm as he cupped her breast. She leaned back into the curve of his shoulder and let him caress her, her eyes closed, scarcely able to breathe.
    “I didn’t want to sit there and watch you with him,” Devlin rasped, moving his head to kiss her again.
    “It’s all right,” Angela murmured against his lips. “I know you have your job to do.”
    Devlin stiffened suddenly, pulling away from her. Stunned, still drugged with sensation, Angela straightened, blinking.
    “What?” she said. “What is it?”
    Devlin thrust shaking hands through his disordered hair. His job. Yes, indeed, he had his job to do, and he mustn’t lose sight of that.
    “Angela, I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “This shouldn’t have happened. We have to forget it.”
    Angela’s gaze fell. Forget it? She wanted to remember it for the rest of her life.
    “I’m not going to take advantage of my situation here to lead you into something that wouldn’t be right for either one of us,” he said. “Go back to bed now, and put this out of your mind.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the room. She heard his door close seconds later.
    Angela choked back a sob. She had finally let him see how much she wanted him, and he had rejected her. Her humiliation was complete. She stumbled into the living room and sank onto the couch.
    Had it really happened? Had she imagined it? No, she could still taste his mouth on her lips, feel the imprint of his hands upon her body. But why had he stopped, why had he left her alone after loving her, in those quicksilver moments, so fiercely, so tenderly?
    She brushed her hair away from her face with trembling fingers.
    How could she go back to Philip after this?
    * * * *
    First thing in the morning Devlin called his superior for a transfer. But he could hardly tell the man the truth, and his