In His Shadow (Tangled Ivy Book 1) by Tiffany Snow Read Free Book Online Page A

there would be no going back.
    I’ve never thought of myself as someone who was drawn to the unknown or as a girl who had a thirst for taking a walk on the wild side. I was Ivy Mason. Pretty, yes, but sensible. A girl who liked safety and comfort above all else. Someone who eschewed the fleeting thrill of the “bad boys” my girlfriends always ooh ed and ahh ed over and who never failed to break their hearts. I was smarter than that, wiser than that.
    Or so I’d believed.
    Dinner was over and it was time to go. I was so nervous, I was nearly light-headed, though maybe that was from the wine. I had no idea who Devon was, what he did for a living—though I was guessing he worked on the wrong side of the law—and yet here I was letting him touch my back and brush his fingers down my arms as he helped me into my coat.
    Turning me to face him, his hands spanned my waist inside my coat. I was narrow and small, his hands so large his fingers nearly touched. I could feel the heat of his touch through the thin material of my blouse and it seemed to burn. A shudder went through me and I tipped my head back to look up at him. His eyes were intently studying me, their depths sparking with blue fire.
    “Don’t fight it, luv,” Devon said, his voice a low thrum of sound. “You were mine from the moment I laid eyes on you.” The possessiveness in his gaze made the breath catch in my chest.
    It wasn’t until we were outside in the brittle cold, Devon no longer enthralling me with his words and his touch, that sanity returned. What was I doing? This was insane. I was insane. Devon couldn’t be trusted, no matter how inexplicably drawn I was to him.
    Devon released his hold on me to take his keys from the valet, and I bolted. Another couple was exiting the restaurant, heading to a waiting cab, and I darted in front of them.
    “Sorry!” I called over my shoulder, slamming the door behind me. “Go!” I told the driver, who stepped on the gas, unfazed by my rather abrupt entry into his car.
    I turned in my seat to look out the back window. Devon was standing in the street by his car, gazing after the fleeing cab. I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but the lines of his body were taut. Maybe he was angry, but I had the feeling my impulsive action had been more like waving a bloody flag to a hunter who lived for the chase.
    Logan was already home when I arrived, and he was none too pleased.
    “Where have you been?” he asked when I walked in the door. “I’ve been blowing up your phone, worrying about you.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, shucking my coat and setting my purse aside. “I . . . ran into a . . . friend. And we had dinner.” The lie came easily, which was strange. I never lied to Logan. And yet, I didn’t want to tell him about Devon.
    “Oh,” he said, the irritation fading from his expression. “Who?”
    “You don’t know him,” I said, heading toward my room.
    “It’s a him?” I heard Logan call after me, but I could pretend I hadn’t.
    I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed on autopilot. Devon knew where I lived, had broken in here before, and maybe it was a testament to my irrational state of mind that a part of me hoped he’d show up again tonight.
    In that, I wasn’t disappointed.

C HAPTER F OUR
    D evon came in the dead of night.
    When I opened my eyes, I was disoriented for a moment, then I saw the outline of a man standing over me. His form was a deeper shadow than those around him and the instant I realized someone was in my room, I sat straight up and dragged in a ragged breath to scream.
    A hand was instantly over my mouth, stifling me before I let out a whisper of sound. My heart was in my throat and I froze in terror, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin.
    “You left before dessert,” Devon said. “And without a thank-you, though I suppose thanks aren’t necessary.”
    Oh, God. My eyes slid shut in overwhelming relief and I slumped back down on the bed. Devon’s hand