The Heart Of Devin MacKade: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down. Нора Робертс
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the carved wood of a gateleg table. She was so busy humming to herself, she hadn’t heard him come in. She was wearing a white bib apron over her blouse and slacks, and had a plastic basket beside her filled with rags and cleaning tools.
Her wavy hair was tucked behind her ear to keep it from falling forward into her face. She’d been letting it grow some, he thought. It rippled just past her chin.
She looked so damn happy, Devin thought, and jammed his hands into his pockets.
“Cass?”
She jerked up, barely missed rapping her head on the table extension. Then blushed right to the hairline.
“Devin.” She twisted her polishing rag in her hands as her nerves went into overdrive. She’d been replaying the dream in her head, the dream she’d had right here in the parlor, on the window seat. The dream where Devin had… Oh, my…
He stared at her, then stepped forward. She looked as though she’d been caught rifling the till. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Nothing.” It seemed her stomach was suddenly full of bats, and she had to hold back a nervous giggle. “My mind was wandering, that’s all.” Was it ever. “And you startled me. That’s all.”
It wasn’t like her to keep repeating herself, and his gaze narrowed. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, yes. Fine. Just fine.” She scrambled to her feet, still twisting the rag. “The couple who are staying here went out to tour the battlefield. They’re going to stay another night. They’re from North Carolina. He’s a battlefield junkie. That’s what he said. I gave them all the pamphlets, and…and a tour of the house. They wanted to see all of it. They’re excited about the idea of ghosts.”
Puzzled, he nodded. She was babbling like a brook, when he usually had to coax to get three sentences in a row out of her. “Okay.”
“Do you want some coffee? I’ll get you some coffee,” she said, and started to bolt before he could answer. “And brownies. I made brownies this morning, and—” When he put a hand on her arm to stop her, she froze like a doe caught in headlights.
“Cassandra, relax.”
“I am relaxed. I’m relaxed.” His hand was firm, warm. She thought she could feel the texture of it through her skin, all the way to the bone.
“You’re about to jump out of your shoes. Take a deep breath. Take a couple of them.”
Obediently, she did, and felt some of the nerves settle. “I’m fine, Devin.”
“Okay, we’ll have some coffee.” But even as he started to lead her out, his beeper went off. “Damn it.” He strode to the candlestick phone on the gateleg to call in. “MacKade. Yes, Donnie.”
Devin pressed his fingers against his eyes. Where had the headache come from, and why the hell was Cassie staring at him as if he’d grown two pounding heads?
“I’m on a call now, Donnie. Handle it. That’s what I said. Look, put the damn poodle in lockup, along with those idiot women, if you have to, but—” He broke off, cursed himself, knowing Donnie would do exactly that.
“Abort that. Be diplomatic, Donnie, and do your job. You’re going to have to fine the poodle lady, but do it privately and professionally. Suggest a fence. Remind her that the leash law is there for her pup’s safety, as well as the public’s. There’s traffic on that street, and her little dog could get himself squashed. When you’ve handled that, you go over to the complainant, tell her it’s been dealt with, and compliment her on her flowers. Suggest a fence. You know, how good fences make good neighbors. No, I didn’t make that up. Go away, Donnie.”
He hung up and turned to see Cassie smiling at him. “A small dog problem,” he explained.
“You’re so good at that, and knowing how to handle people and put things right.”
“I’m a regular Solomon.” He blew out a breath. “Sit down, Cassie. I need to talk to you.”
“Oh.” Her smile faded. “Something’s wrong.”
“Not necessarily. Come on, let’s sit down.” Because he wanted to be able to hold her hand when he told her, he chose the curvy settee that always made him feel like a clumsy giant. “I’m going to tell you first that there’s nothing to worry about. That I don’t want you to worry.”
“It’s about Joe.” Her hand trembled once in his, then went still. “They let him out.”
“No.” He squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly, and kept his eyes steady on hers. “He’s not going to be out of jail for a long time.”
“He wants to see the children.” She went dead pale, her eyes huge and dark and terrified. “Oh, God, Devin, the children.”
“No.” He cursed himself, knowing he was only making it worse by trying to cushion the blow. “It’s nothing like that. It’s the work release program. You know what that is.”
“Yes, they let the prisoners out for a few hours to do jobs, community service. Oh.” A single shudder escaped before she closed her eyes. “That’s it.”
“He’s working on a road crew. Trash and litter pickup. That sort of thing. I wanted you to know, and not worry. I’ve arranged to be informed of his schedule. I’ll know exactly where he is, and so will you. I don’t want you driving by one day and seeing him on the side of the road and getting scared.”
“All right.” The fear was there, but she could handle it. She’d handled worse. “He’s supervised.”
“That’s right.” He wasn’t going to bring up how often they misplaced a prisoner. She’d know it already. “I’m going to drive by, or have one of the men drive by, wherever he’s working, a couple of times a day. And, because I want you to feel secure about this, we’ll do drive-bys here, too.”
And at the school, he thought, but he didn’t want to bring up the kids again.
“He’s still in prison,” she said, to reassure herself. “There are guards.”
“That’s right. Jared’s working on a protest, but I should tell you— Damn it.” He let out another breath. “Your mother’s for it, and she’s been writing to the warden.”
“I knew that.” Cassie squared her shoulders. “She and Joe are writing each other. She’s showed me his letters. It doesn’t make any difference, Devin. I’m never going back to that. I’m never letting my children go back to that. We’ll be all right.”
“You’ll be fine.” He was going to see to it. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, relieved that she didn’t jolt. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You didn’t. Not really.”
“Any time, Cassie, day or night, that you feel uncomfortable or uneasy, I want you to call me. You know I spend most nights at the office. I can be here in five minutes if you need me.”
“I never feel uncomfortable or uneasy here. I’m hardly ever alone.” When he lifted a brow, she smiled. “Can’t you smell them?”
“The roses? Yeah.” Now he smiled. “Still, I’m usually better company than a ghost. You call me.”
“All right.” She had to draw together all her courage. A point had to be proved. He was her friend, always had been. She had to stop being a trembling little mouse. “Thank you.” She made herself smile, then laid a hand on his cheek, and touched her lips to his.
He barely tasted her, but the explosion ripped through his system like napalm. It was so unexpected, so long desired. He didn’t realize his hand had tightened like a vise on her fingers, making her eyes go wide with shock. All he knew was that her lips had been on his, just for an instant.
And he couldn’t