Page 10 of Dangerous December
Shaking off his thoughts, he wandered through the building, trying to quell the deep sense of longing flickering to life inside his chest.
Each of the four buildings in this block were roughly the same, with thick sandstone walls built to last for centuries, and old glass rippled with age set in the tall, narrow windows.
Yet each building also bore unique, whimsical details in the fanciful figures carved into the stone lintels over their doorways. The patterns of the mullioned windows on the second floors, and the ornate details in the rooflines and eaves.
He still couldn’t believe his mother had risked letting any of this fall into the hands of her brother-in-law, unless she’d wanted to ensure that Dev would move home to prevent it.
Was she really that crafty? Had she no idea of how difficult it would be for him to deal with Beth? Didn’t she care?
Then again, Mom hadn’t really known him at all. He certainly hadn’t come home much, and when he did, he hadn’t stayed long. He was a far, far different person now than he’d been as a boy.
His palm still burned at the remembered touch of Beth’s hand back at the law office, and his conscience nagged at him over how rude he’d been.
On the trip home from D.C. he’d dredged up a few rusty prayers over how he was going to avoid running into his ex-wife. Gutless prayers, to be sure, and since few of his prayers had been answered in battle, he’d figured that the Almighty wasn’t listening anyway.
God sure had to be laughing now.
Having to face her during that meeting had left him more tense than any battle or covert operation.
And now, instead of managing to avoid her and the old, raw emotions surrounding their ill-fated marriage, he was going to be seeing her all the time.
Worse, he had to do a good job of it—to ensure that the stipulations of his mother’s will were met well enough to pass muster with a couple of attorneys planning to guard her interests.
The irony was almost enough to help him ignore the aching in his shoulder and the sharp, stabbing pain that radiated down his upper arm with every unguarded movement.
At the sound of knocking behind him, he spun toward the front door, automatically reaching for his absent weapon and scanning the interior of the building for exits and cover, his heart rate escalating.
He blinked.
Forced himself to relax.
And squinted into the sunlight streaming in behind a slender figure silhouetted in the windowed upper half of the door.
Though the thick, rippled glass muted her shape, his gut wrenched and his heart took an extra thud at his instant recognition, triggering emotions and memories that were long dead...and would stay that way.
She knocked again, then tried the door handle and pushed the door open to stand in the entry, looking a little hesitant. “I...I was outside the bookstore and saw you unlocking the door over here. Mind if I come in?”
He gave a single, sharp nod.
Beth stepped a few feet inside. Avoiding his gaze, she surveyed the interior, her eyes sparkling.
“Wow—just look at the natural light coming through all the high windows, and look at all the space. This place has tremendous potential. It ought to be perfect for whatever kind of business moves in here.”
She gave him a speculative look. “Maybe you should just lease it instead of selling. You might want to come home for good someday.”
“No. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can, and I won’t be back. There’s nothing to keep me here anymore.”
Her expression hardened. “Of course not.”
Guilt lanced through him at his inadvertent, callous words. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She raised a delicate eyebrow, making him feel like an even bigger jerk. “We’ve both moved on. All for the best, and all of that. Right?”
A shaft of sunlight lit her wildly curly auburn hair, highlighting its varying shades of amber and gold.
It had always felt so soft and silky, he remembered; baby fine and fragrant with the scent of wildflowers. Gentle, just like her.
She’d so deserved better than someone like him.
