An Impractical Match (Match #2) Read online

  She gave him a shaky nod.

  “I’ll pour,” said Morgan, turning for the living room.

  Amelia followed.

  “You okay?” Devlin asked Jillian.

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered.

  He turned his hand so he was holding hers and guided her steadily toward the sofa. She sat down at one end, and he took the spot beside her, not willing to break the hold.

  Morgan handed whisky on the rocks all around. Then he sat down next to Amelia on the opposite sofa.

  The two of them looked at each other.

  “We don’t have a choice,” said Amelia.

  “I agree,” said Morgan, then he took a swig of the amber liquid.

  “How on earth does Hannah know Lizbet?” Weak as it was, it was good to hear Jillian’s voice.

  Devlin looked to Morgan and waited.

  “They live together. Well, they live side by side at a condo complex in Florida.”

  “My grandmother?” asked Jillian in obvious astonishment and dismay.

  “And our aunt,” said Amelia. “And Morgan’s grandfather. And a couple of other people.”

  “Sam Finnegan,” said Morgan. “You can’t tell the story without talking about Sam Finnegan.”

  Devlin sat in stunned disbelief while Amelia and Morgan explained about the matchmaking computer program, their romance, and the machinations of Lizbet, Hannah, JW, Sam and Daisy.

  “You knew?” Devlin demanded as Morgan finished the story.

  “Not until the rehearsal dinner when you mentioned Lizbet.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” Devlin glared at his sister.

  Morgan’s arm curled protectively around her. “We were sworn to secrecy. And we thought it was better to wait and see what happened.”

  “We’re not lab rats,” Devlin all but bellowed. The idea that five people in Florida, not to mention his own sister, had been standing back to see how he and Jillian would react to each other was outrageous.

  “It worked for us,” Morgan defended.

  “You two are a perfect match,” said Amelia.

  “A perfect match?” Jillian’s voice sounded a bit stronger, and she slipped her hand from Devlin’s. “How are we a perfect match? What about us is remotely a match at all?”

  He knew what she was thinking. She and Edmund had been a perfect match.

  “You wouldn’t think that about us on the surface, either,” said Morgan. “But Sam says—”

  “Who’s Sam?” Jillian demanded. “I’ve never even met this Sam. Where does he get off messing—”

  “You two should probably leave,” Devlin interjected.

  Amelia and Morgan glanced worriedly at each other.

  “We took a chance in telling you,” said Morgan.

  Devlin coughed out a cold laugh. “You took a chance in not telling me as soon as you found out what was going on.”

  “We didn’t do it to hurt you,” said Amelia.

  Devlin glared at his sister.

  “We thought you might make each other happy,” she told him.

  Morgan took her by the hand and came to his feet. “We do need to leave them alone.”

  She nodded and rose, watching Devlin closely. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he returned. The last thing anybody needed to worry about was his and Jillian’s behavior. From what he could tell, they were the only two sane people in this entire situation.

  Morgan and Amelia started for the door.

  “Call me,” she said to Devlin.

  “Maybe,” he returned.

  “Don’t pout.”

  “I’m not pouting.”

  “They really are sweet people. And they wanted to help.” She glanced to Jillian. “Apparently, Lizbet was desperately worried about you.”

  “Lizbet hadn’t even met me,” said Jillian.

  “Let’s go,” said Morgan, tugging on Amelia’s hand.

  The front door finally closed behind them.

  Devlin and Jillian sat in silence for a long time. He could only guess she was also digesting the bizarre revelations.

  Finally, he angled his body so that he was facing her. “So, Lizbet was the anonymous donor to NMAC?”

  Jillian stared straight ahead. “That seems like the only possibility. Unless she had financial help from her other partners in crime.”

  “Does she have that kind of money?”

  “Maybe. I know she had a high-powered career in the financial sector.”

  “Do you suppose they’re all crazy?”

  Jillian tossed back the last of her whisky. “I think that’s a foregone conclusion.”

  He pondered a few moments longer. “What do you want to do about it?”

  She turned to look at him. “I want to apologize.”

  “None of this is your fault.”

  “For what I did just now. I accused you of going behind my back and talking to Lizbet.”

  “I didn’t,” he confirmed.

  She dropped the side of her head against the sofa back, looking tired and vulnerable. “We’ve still got an event to pull off. We’ve still got several days’ of hard work ahead of us.”

  He resisted the urge to smooth back her hair. “Tomorrow’s soon enough to worry about all that. What do you want to do right now? What would help?”

  She blinked her dark lashes over her luminous blue eyes. The flush was back in her cheeks, and her lips looked exceptionally kissable.

  “Right now?” She sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m so tired. I really just want to block out the world.”

  He raised their joined hands, kissing her gently on the knuckles. “What can I do?”

  She searched his expression for a long time. “We’re definitely not a perfect match, Devlin.”

  “We’re not a match at all.” He turned her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist.

  Then he brushed back her hair. “We’re just two people.” He let his palm rest on her cheek. “Two people who...”

  He gave in to temptation, leaning in to kiss her lips. It was long and sweet and totally gratifying.

  “I haven’t forgotten anything,” he rasped against her mouth. “Not one inch of your skin, not one second of our time together.”

  “You’re going to make things more complicated,” she warned him in a strained whisper.

  “Yeah,” he told her with conviction. “I am.” Then he kissed her again. His lips parted, and he felt her opening to him. His arm slipped behind her, wrapping her waist.

  “Devlin,” she moaned, returning his kiss, her tongue flicking out, sending tiny shocks skimming along his nerve endings.

  He leaned back along the length of the sofa, pulling her with him so that she was lying on top, reveling in the feel of her body against his. She was soft and warm and enticingly fragrant. He buried his face in her neck, feeling the softness of her loose hair, inhaling the light floral scent that had haunted his dreams. He kissed her neck, nibbling his way along her shoulder, easing her jacket out of the way, pushing down the strap of her dress, giving him access to more of her silky skin.

  His own body was snapping to arousal. He could feel the demands of his desire pulsating to life. His skin flushed hot then cold. Baser impulses took over his brain, commanding his hands to act. He pushed her little jacket all the way off, setting it aside. He found the zipper at the back of her dress and dragged it down. His fingertips stroked her taut skin, finding the little dips and hollows of her back, raising goose bumps as they wandered.

  She traced his chin, his cheekbones and his eyelids. Her lips followed her fingertips down his neck, along his shoulder. She grasped the bottom of his T-shirt, wriggling enticingly against him as she pulled it up and off over his head.

  Then she kissed his chest, and he sucked in a breath. She kissed her way lower, tongue teasing him, fingertips telegraphing her pathway. He pulled off her dress and unclasped her bra, wasting no time getting rid of it. H
er bare breasts came up against him, and he pulled her lips to his for a searing kiss.

  The sofa was confining, and he wanted room to move.

  “Hang on,” he whispered, sitting up, turning her sideways and lifting her into his arms.

  It was then he realized that she wore nothing but a pair of white lace panties, sexy black stockings, and too-high heels. He nearly fell back down on the sofa.

  “Where are we going?” she purred against his ear.

  “My bed.” His legs remembered how to move.

  “Okay,” she answered, kissing his neck, training her fingers along his shoulders, down his biceps, across his chest. “You know, you are one very sexy man.”

  “You,” he managed in return, “ought to be illegal.”

  He made it down the hall and through his bedroom door. Her toe banged the doorjamb.

  “My shoes are going to hurt you.”

  “Don’t touch the shoes.” He set her down next to his king-size bed. “The panties, yeah.” He slid his thumbs beneath them. “Get rid of those. But leave the shoes.”

  She tossed her hair and grinned up at him. “Sure.”

  Then her hands went to the fly of his jeans. He stood still, letting her undress him, closing his eyes and sucking in a bracing breath as her small hands intimately touched him.

  The windows were open, the desert breeze flowing in, cooling his skin from the outside, while raging hormones heated it from within. He got rid of his pants and made short work of her panties.

  Then they were naked together, tumbling back on his bed. He ran his palms along her stocking-covered legs, letting the sensual texture ramp up his desire. Her hair was splayed across his pillow, her eyes bright in the moonlight.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he told her, touching her cheek, trailing his touch down her neck to her breasts. Her nipple beaded, and he caressed it, bringing a gratifying gasp to her lips. He switched to the other side, then he lavished her breasts with kisses, plying her nipples with his tongue as she twisted beneath him.

  “Tell me when,” he said. “Or I’ll just keep this going forever.” He didn’t plan to ever let her leave his bed.

  His words brought an unexpected smile to her lips. Her hands slid along his sides, moving between them. “You think you can go forever?” she teased on a husky note.

  She stroked her palms against him, and he reveled in the sensation. But as her caresses grew bolder, he snagged her wrists, dragging them back above her head.

  “Forget I said that.” Forever wasn’t going to work for him.

  He kissed her. He kissed her again. He kissed her longer, harder and deeper, as he eased his way inside, joining them together.

  “When,” she gasped. “When, when, when.”

  He linked their hands solidly together, flexing his hips. He lost all sense of time and space, his brain going to autopilot. His only conscious thought was that Jillian was his. He might be the worst match in the world for her, but he had to find a way to keep her. He simply couldn’t bear the thought of another perfect Edmund coming along and taking her away.

  o o o o

  Jillian awoke, warm and cozy, spooning against Devlin’s solid body. His arms were around her, hand splayed across her stomach. The morning sun was streaming across his king-size bed. Birds chirped in the desert outside, and a light breeze carried the scents of wildflowers.

  He placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her shoulder. “Morning,” he whispered.

  “Morning,” she breathed on a sigh.

  He kissed her again. “You want to try to figure this out yet?”

  “No.” They’d made love long into the night, falling asleep without any further discussion about their bizarre circumstances.

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  “We’ve got too many other things to worry about right now.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

  Jillian didn’t know how to answer that. She definitely wanted to see him again, but she felt like they were under a microscope. “I don’t want to have to explain to anyone.”

  “We can eat here,” he offered. “Order in. Nobody has to know.”

  She shifted onto her back. His face came into view, and her heart gave a little lurch.

  She couldn’t seem to stop the smile that grew on her face. “Good morning,” she repeated.

  He smiled back. Then he tucked her messy hair behind one ear. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  She wished he’d kiss her. Her memories of last night were vivid and compelling. “I have to go to the racetrack soon.”

  “So do I.” But he leaned in and kissed her anyway.

  She steeled herself to keep from wrapping her arms around him and deepening the kiss. By the time he broke away, her breathing had deepened.

  “I have to go back to the hotel and change,” she told him.

  He glanced at the white dress that was draped across an armchair in the corner of the room. “I guess you do.”

  Then his gaze dropped to the swell of her breasts beneath the sheet. She could feel her nipples peak in response.

  “The tent company will be there at nine,” she told him, desperate to keep her mind on business.

  “It’s only eight.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “I know.” He cradled her cheek with his palm. “But you take my breath away.”

  “Dinner,” she promised.

  His expression perked up. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Can we have pizza?”

  “I was thinking of something a little fancier. But, sure, we can have pizza.”

  She had an irresistible craving for rich cheese and chewy, fresh-baked crust. “And milkshakes?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “You make me want to walk on the wild side.”

  “Milkshakes are the wild side? You have led a cloistered life, Jillian Korrigan.”

  She came up on her elbow. “What’s the wild side for you?”

  “About two hundred miles an hour.”

  “Okay, that’s wild.” She paused. “You mean in a car, right? It wouldn’t be that outrageous in an airplane.”

  “Or on a motorcycle.”

  “You’re going to die young, Devlin Camden.”

  “Jumping out of an airplane would be wild.”

  “Don’t count on me for that one.”

  He grinned, pulling her down to his chest into a hug. “Come on, be a sport.”

  “Un uh. You’re on your own.”

  He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Milkshakes it is, then.”

  “I’d do mint chocolate banana.”

  “Can’t beat that for an adrenaline rush.”

  o o o o

  Against all odds, by Friday morning the Desert Heat track was ready. Jillian and Devlin had had few spare moments over the course of the week, but they’d managed to spend them together. Shari had accepted the situation without a lot of questions, for which Jillian was grateful. Amelia and Morgan had returned to California, and Lizbet had gone back to Florida.

  There was nobody around to speculate, and Jillian was putting all questions off until after the event. She had no frame of reference to figure out what was happening with Devlin. She only knew she liked it, and that was enough for now.

  Standing at the start-finish runoff lane, she gazed around the facility. What a difference two months had made. The security fence was rebuilt, the tents were up, the parking area had been graded. They’d even put down turf on the hillside so that people could picnic while they watched the races. She didn’t hate it here anymore. In fact, it was starting to feel familiar. She was even excited about the races tomorrow.

  The NMAC staff had arrived a few days ago, taking over the management of the races. Shari was monitoring registration and arrivals, and the opening reception details were well in hand at the Venus Mountain Golf Club.

  Jillian found herself thinking ahead to tomorrow. Devlin was racing, and she wanted to be here to
see him. She felt like a college freshman, coming out to see her boyfriend play the big game.

  Boyfriend. She laughed at the thought. She was a grown woman having a fling on a business trip. Kind of like her grandmother, except there wasn’t a husband back home.

  She sobered. There had almost been a husband back home. For a second, she couldn’t help but speculate on what might have happened if she’d been married to Edmund and then met Devlin.

  Nothing, of course.

  If Edmund had still been in her life, she wouldn’t have looked twice at Devlin. And she’d have missed all this. She gazed around. That would have been a shame, because all this was unexpectedly exhilarating. She found herself wanting to embrace and enjoy every second.

  She spotted Katie in the parking area with her bike, and an idea formed in her mind.

  “Katie?” she called, making her way along the runoff road.

  The girl turned. “Yeah?”

  “You busy?”

  “The track’s closed until practice runs start tomorrow morning.”

  “Do you think you could give me a hand with something?”

  Katie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “With what?”

  “Something you said last week. It got me to thinking.”

  Katie squared her shoulders, always ready for a quarrel. “Yeah?”

  “You said dirt and makeup aren’t mutually exclusive. But everything should be in its place.”

  “Okay.” Clearly, Katie didn’t remember those prophetic words.

  “I have nothing to wear tomorrow,” said Jillian, realizing it was true. “Will you come shopping with me? I can’t think of anyone in a better position to help me pick out a motocross wardrobe.”

  A smile cracked Katie’s face. “You serious?”

  “I want to look like I belong.”

  The young girl looked frighteningly eager. “I can make you look like you belong.”

  “I don’t want to look like a rider or anything.”

  “We won’t make you into a poser.”

  “Okay.” Jillian hoped she wasn’t making a mistake here.

  “Let’s do it,” said Katie.

  The women took Jillian’s rental car from the track, making their way into town. Katie directed her to a suburban shopping mall, making a beeline to a vast department store.

  The first thing they found was a pair of rather boyish-cut blue jeans.