Page 19 of Devil
“Let’s confirm with Franklin, and we can go from there,” she said, turning away from Darius and continuing to Smith House.
“Who is Franklin?” Darius asked as they walked. She took the next ten minutes to tell him about the man who’d been a part of her life for twenty-five years. She also filled him in on Franklin’s role in bringing Joe and Gavin into their lives. Talking about the relationship Joe now had with Cyn, and Gavin with Six, was a little uncomfortable, but she hadn’t wanted to leave it out. By controlling the message, she hoped she’d made it clear that they would not suddenly fall into a similar relationship.
His expression had turned thoughtful as she talked, but thankfully, he didn’t press her on Joe and Gavin and had asked about her friends instead. By the time they’d arrived at Smith House, Darius knew the basics about Cyn, Six, and Nora, including who they worked for and the families they came from.
“Let’s order dinner and drinks, and then we can call Franklin,” Devil said, handing Darius a menu as she walked past him and into the bedroom. The suite wasn’t huge, but it did have a separate bedroom and bathroom, as well as a sitting room and half bath for guests. It also had a wall lined with small dormer windows. Devil loved the way the lights from the street reflected through the panes, and tonight was no different. The red of brake lights blended with the white of headlights and the yellow of streetlights, creating a miasma of color that danced on the ceiling of the suite.
“Want me to order?” Darius called from the sitting room as she shucked her shoes and placed them in the closet.
“Please,” she called back. “I’d like the duck and the new Chianti they have.”
“Bottle or glass?” he asked, bringing a smile to her face.
“Bottle, but don’t feel obligated to have any if you want something else. They’ll keep it for me, or I’ll take whatever’s left home tomorrow.” His response was lost on her when she shut the door to change. She was an unabashed clotheshorse. She liked nice things and had a lot of them. But right now, as she stared at the closet, she wanted simple. Right now, she wanted comfort.
She stripped out of her work clothes and changed into a pair of black leggings, a soft cotton shirt, and a long cashmere cardigan. Then, after gathering her hair up into a high ponytail, she washed her face to rid it of all the city grime.
As she patted her skin dry, she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t wear that much makeup. She’d been blessed with a complexion that was nearly perfect. And with her black lashes and brows, she rarely needed more than a little smoothing foundation, blush, and lipstick. But even knowing that makeup didn’t add much to her looks, she debated whether to reapply it before rejoining Darius. She stared at the bottle of liquid foundation that sat on the counter, considering it.
Then, with a shake of her head, she set the towel down and left everything behind. Her intentions for the night weren’t to look good for Darius. The only thing she needed to do was eat, enjoy a glass of wine, and confirm with Franklin that he’d been behind Darius’s assignment. Everything else could wait.
* * *
Darius still had the hotel phone to his ear when Lily walked out of the bedroom. The woman on the other end of the line was repeating his order back, but for the life of him, he heard none of it. He’d seen Lily in pantsuits, in skirts, in her lab gear, and even in a dress that first night at Smith House. But seeing her now, in leggings, a T-shirt, and a sweater—with her feet bare, her face free of makeup, and her hair up—stole the breath from his lungs. She was always a beautiful woman, but the stripped-down, raw, and real version of her left him speechless. And for the first time in his life, a wave of possessiveness hit him. It didn’t wash over him with any sort of gentleness. It hit him like a tsunami, sucking the air from his lungs and tossing his emotions about until he hadn’t a clue which way was up.
She gave him a funny look as she walked past and took a seat on the couch, curling a leg underneath her. Everything in his body tracked her path, and now he stood facing her, the phone still in his hand.
“Are you going to answer her?” Devil asked.
It took him a beat to answer. “Who?”
She cocked her head. “The woman on the phone. I assume you’re talking to room service.”
He almost asked what phone she was talking about when a voice blared in his ear. “Sir? Did I get the order right?” He had no idea if she had or not but he mumbled a “yes,” then set the receiver down.
“Are you okay?” she asked, resting her head on her fist.
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
She didn’t say anything, probably waiting for him to elaborate, but that wasn’t going to happen. Even if he had the words, which he didn’t, he wasn’t about to share with her the startling experience he’d just had. “Shall we call Franklin?” he asked instead, taking a seat in a chair several feet away from Lily.
She studied him again, her aqua eyes considering, then she nodded. Grateful she hadn’t pursued her line of questioning, he forced himself to relax into the chair. She pulled out her phone, hit a few buttons, then placed it on the side table between the sofa and his chair.
“He may not answer my call,” Lily said as they listened to it ring. “We may have to try again with your phone.”
He started to ask why but cut himself off when a familiar voice answered. “Devil, darling, how are you?
Darius knew the origin of Lily’s nickname, but even so, hearing it come from a man who was old enough to be her father was disconcerting.
She looked to him as Franklin spoke, silently asking if it was the same man he’d met, though not been introduced to, the day he’d received his orders. He nodded and she made a face—not at him, but at the situation.
“Franklin,” she responded, not answering his question. “I’m sitting here with Commander Darius Washington. We’d like to confirm that his assignment was something you initiated. Or at the very least condoned.”
“Are you enjoying working together?”
“Franklin.” Lily’s voice held a hint of warning.
“I read his file,” Franklin continued. “I thought the two of you might get on once he got over the fact of your money.”
