Page 93 of Mr. Devereaux


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I hesitate. I don’t normally talk to anyone like this, but Devon has been a shoulder to cry on, so to speak. We help each other out. I’ve been a sounding board for him when he broke up with his ex, and I know I can trust him.

“Aside from the age gap and the fact she used to be my stepdaughter? I... I don’ t know.”

“I think I do.”

“Great. Care to enlighten me?”

“You’ve been on your own so long you’ve forgotten what human interaction is like,” he tells me. “And I don’t mean just sex. You can get that anywhere. I mean, the good stuff. The side that nobody sees behind closed doors. Playful Alistair.”

“I’m not fucking playful,” I growl.

“No, but you’re taking her to your most favourite place in the world. That means something.”

“I… I thought she’d like it.”

“And I rest my case.”

“So, you think I’m doing the wrong thing?”

“I never said that. I just want to be sure that you know what you’re doing.”

“Of course I fucking don’t, it’s unchartered territory.”

“And now you’re rethinking it?”

“I know you think I’m nuts, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I think… I think I’m falling in love with her, D.” The words leave my mouth and they sound foreign.Yet, for some reason, it also doesn’t feel off.

“Fuck. That was pretty quick. Are you sure you’re not mistaking this for something else? The idea you like caring for her, perhaps?”

“I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t know. But I do know that I can’t stop thinking about her. When she’s not with me, I’m thinking about what she’s doing and where she is. Texting her, fuck, I even watched my credit card transaction to try and pinpoint where she was.”

“Jesus, stalking her now?”

“Trust me, it’s all for the greater good. I care about her.”

“I can see that, you just have to ask yourself if she cares about you the same way. Is she just in it for the money and to punish you?”

I tap my fingers on the desk impatiently. “I don’t know. I fucking hope not.”

“Well, I think it’s time we found out.”

“What do you mean?”

“We set a trap for her.”

I stiffen. “What?”

“I could text her, saying I got her number off one of the girls at Élégance. See if she wants to meet up with me.”

“I don’t like it.”

He laughs. “Why? Because you’re afraid she might just move onto the next rich bastard. Oh, if I’m pretending to be anyone, it’s gotta be good. I’ll be a rich, grumpy billionaire like you.”

Smart arse.

“I don’t know. This feels kinda weird.”

“Least you’d know.”

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