Suddenly You(41)

“No one could blame you,” Amanda said earnestly, but she knew that it didn’t matter. Devlin was not inclined to forgive himself for his actions, no matter what anyone else said. “And you paid the loan back, didn’t you? The matter is resolved now.”

He smiled bitterly, as if the statement were impossibly innocent. “Yes, I paid him back in full, with interest. But it’s not resolved. My father likes to boast to his friends that he gave me my start. He plays the part of benefactor, and I can’t contradict him.”

“The people who know you are aware of the truth,” Amanda murmured. “That is all that matters.”

“Yes.” His expression became distracted, and Amanda sensed that he regretted having told her so much about himself. More than anything, she did not want him to be sorry for trusting her. But why had he? Why would he tell her what he clearly thought was the worst thing about himself? Had he intended to bring her closer or drive her away? His gaze dropped, and he seemed to be waiting for her censure, almost to want it.

“Jack,” she said, his name tumbling from her lips before she realized it. He moved a little, as if intending to push away from her, and she reached out impulsively, her short arms catching his broad shoulders. She embraced him protectively, although it might seem ridiculous to shelter such a physically powerful creature. Devlin stiffened. To her surprise, and perhaps his, he gradually accepted her hold, hunching over to accommodate her short stature. His black head lowered almost to her shoulder. Amanda put her hand on the nape of his neck, where the warm edge of skin met the crisp edge of his collar.

“Jack…” She meant to sound sympathetic, but somehow her voice came out as briskly pragmatic as ever. “What you did was neither illegal nor immoral, and there is certainly no point in wasting your time with regrets. You needn’t berate yourself for something you can’t change. And as you say, you had no choice. If you wish for revenge against your father and siblings for their treatment of you, I suggest that you apply yourself to being happy.”

He gave a brief huff of laughter against her ear. “My practical princess,” he muttered, his arms tightening around her. “I wish it were that easy. But some people are not made to be happy—has that ever occurred to you?”

To a man who spent every minute of his life managing, controlling, struggling, and conquering, this moment of surrender was a damned odd experience. Jack felt dazed, as if a warm fog had suddenly descended on him and blurred the edges of the ruthless world he occupied. He wasn’t certain what had caused his impetuous confession, but somehow one word had led to another, until he was blurting out secrets he had never told anyone. Not even Fretwell and Stubbins, his closest confidants. He would have preferred Amanda to mock him, or become coldly distant…that he could have handled with humor and sarcasm, his favorite defenses. But her support and understanding were unnerving. He couldn’t seem to move away from her, no matter that the moment was spinning out far too long.

He loved her strength, her straightforward approach to life, her lack of maudlin sentimentality. It occurred to him that a woman like Amanda was what he had always needed, someone who would not be intimidated by the massive welter of ambition and turmoil that had troubled him all his life. She had an endearing confidence in her own ability to cut any problem down to size.

“Jack,” she said softly. “Stay a bit longer. We’ll have a drink in the parlor.”

He turned his face into her hair, where the smoothly pinned-back wing at the side had ruffled into a mass of rebellious curls. “You’re not afraid to be alone with me in the parlor?” he asked. “Remember what happened the last time.”

He could feel her bristle. “I can manage you quite well, I believe.”

Her self-assurance delighted Jack. He drew back and took her round face in his palms, and used his own weight to press her back against the wall. His spread legs contained hers within the rustling weight of her amber velvet skirts. Surprise glinted in her clear gray eyes, and a flush came over her face. She had beautiful fair skin, and the most tempting mouth he had ever seen, soft and rose-tinted, and nicely curved when she wasn’t clamping her lips together in her usual habit.

“You should never say that to a man,” he said. “It makes me want to prove you wrong.”

He liked being able to fluster her, something he guessed that few men were able to do. She laughed unsteadily, still blushing, and she didn’t seem able to think of a reply. Jack drew the pads of his thumbs lightly over the sides of her cheeks, the skin cool and silken. He wanted to warm her, to fill her with fire. He lowered his head and nuzzled the side of her face, letting his lips graze the soft skin.

“Amanda…what I just told you…it wasn’t to gain your sympathy. I want you to understand what kind of man I am. Not noble. Not principled.”

“I never thought you were,” she said tartly, and he laughed against her cheek, and felt her shiver. “Jack…” She kept her cheek pressed against his, as if she enjoyed the sensation of his shaven skin. “You seem to be warning me about yourself, although I can’t fathom why.”

“You can’t?” Jack drew back and looked down at her gravely, while his desire burned steadily through all rational considerations. Her silvery eyes were wide, as cool and refreshing as spring rain. He could stare into them forever. “Because I want you.” He forced himself to speak through the sudden hoarseness of his voice. “Because you should not welcome me in for supper anymore. And when you see me walking toward you, you should run as fast as possible in the opposite direction. You’re like one of the characters in your novels, Amanda…a good, moral woman who is getting mixed up in bad company.”