That was the closest he'd ever come to outright telling her he loved her. Willow's eyes lit as if he'd said the actual words, so he opened his mouth to confess all. But she surprised him by grasping the lapels of his jacket and tugging him close. "Well, no one messes with a DeVane." On a slow smile, she added, "Or fathers of future DeVanes. My family was only doing their rightful duty."
Though her words warmed him considerably, he arched a brow. "Future DeVane? I don't think so. This kid's going to be one hundred percent Malloy. Not a DeVane."
Willow paused. She glanced at her stomach and then back up at him and suddenly everything was okay. He and the woman he was crazy about were about to delve into one of their little matches that could turn him on like nothing else.
"Look, buddy," Willow said, right on schedule, with that argumentative tone in her voice and a sexy flash of anger in her brown eyes. She patted her flat belly. "This right here is Bubble DeVane. My baby is going to have my last name, thank you very much."
"Well, then I guess you're going to be a Malloy too," he retorted, his body pulling taut and desire zipping through him. "Because it is not going to be a DeVane."
Willow froze in her tracks. She looked up at Raith. "Did you just..." She took a breath. "Did you just propose to me?"
Raith's mouth fell open.
Holy shit.
No, he hadn't meant it that way. But suddenly the idea sounded like the best plan he'd heard all night. He studied Willow hard. "Why? Do you want to marry me?"
Willow snorted as if her answer was an obvious no. But for some reason her breathing turned choppy. She gazed up at Raith, looking a little light-headed. "I've never wanted to get married before," she whispered.
Raith moved dangerously close, hovering over her. "But do you want to now? Do you want to marry me?"
Willow's eyes were large and frightened. "You are proposing."
It was his turn to make a scoffing sound as if he was going to deny doing any such thing. But then his brow lowered moodily and he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess I am."
~ * ~
For a second, Willow couldn't breathe. She couldn't talk... couldn't even blink. Then she cleared her throat. "I could probably live with the idea of marrying you," she said and then suddenly felt very unstable, as if her skin was going to shake off her bones.
Had she just said yes?
"Fine," Raith told her as if he didn't care one way or the other. "Then we'll get married."
Willow rasped back, "Fine."
But as soon as she spoke, Raith blew out a breath. She felt as stunned as he looked. "Whoa. I didn't see that coming."
"Me neither."
"What?" he asked sharply, blue eyes intense and probing. "Do you want out already?"
Willow stared up at him. "Do you?"
This was it, she told herself. He had to be honest now. He had to tell her how he felt about her.
Clearing his throat, he chickened out at the last second. "I think I could live with being married to you."
"Okay, then," she answered. "We'll get married."
And it was set. They were engaged.
She was going to marry Deputy Raith Malloy and bear his child. Three months ago, she probably would've punched anyone who dared suggest such a wild, absurd notion, but now that it was happening, she was so giddy she was scared to death.
She was going to marry Raith, the man she loved.
"What happened?" Camille hurried to her not five seconds after she and Malloy rejoined the celebration, tugging her away from Raith's side so they could talk more privately. "God, you look like you're going to be sick. And Malloy's as white as a sheet." Her best friend clutched her arm and rushed her to a chair. "Did you two have a fight?" Concern marred her brow.
"Ohmigod, you broke up, didn't you?"
"No," Willow murmured, sounding as dazed as she felt. "I mean, yeah, we had a fight. But that's just how we communicate."
"Then what happened? You look like you could faint any second."
"I… We..." Willow swallowed and finally spoke the words aloud. "We decided to get married."
Her cousin blinked. Then her mouth fell open. After that, she shrieked and threw her arms around Willow. "Oh, wow. That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you. Congratulations."
Willow hugged her back, feeling numb and yet hyper-sensitive at the same time. She scanned the room over Camille's shoulder, looking for her fiancé. She spotted him surrounded by Chase, Dylan, and Kit. Kit slapped him on the back and said something that made all four men chuckle. Willow blinked, still too dazed to process much of anything.
As if sensing her stare, Raith lifted his eyes, and his gaze pinned her from across the room.
"I can't believe it," she murmured aloud.
"Well, believe it, honey." Camille patted her back. "That man is crazy about you." She squeezed Willow's fingers and let go. "Actually, I'm a little shocked you two are still here. After Dylan proposed to me, we spent the rest of the night in..." Realizing she was being a little too open, Camille snapped her mouth shut and blushed.
Willow threw back her head and laughed. Then, realizing her cousin had a point, she pushed to her feet. "I love you, Camy," she said and kissed her friend's cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Have fun," Camille trilled after her.
Oh, she planned on it. Willow worked her way through the crowd, forced to pause every few feet and speak to a dozen different people, mostly members of her family, congratulating her. She'd almost reached him when her father stepped in her path.
She pulled to a stop and lifted her face. Walter DeVane's face was hard and his eyes unreadable. But she smiled anyway and threw her arms around him.
"Thank you," she whispered in his ear.
Even though she knew he was disgruntled with Malloy and would cheerfully send the deputy to the electric chair right about then, he had still stood up for Raith, because of her.
Her father softened and pulled away. Kissing her cheek, he said, "This is the best birthday present a father can get. Nothing is as precious to me as seeing you and your mother and brother as happy as you are right now."
Tears glittered in her eyes even as her mouth tipped in a smile. A hand touched her arm and familiar fingers wrapped supportively around her elbow. "Willow?" Raith asked. She lifted her gaze. He frowned slightly and
reached out to touch the moisture on her cheek.
Before he could ask if she was okay, her father held out his hand. "Raith. I hear congratulations are in order."
Willow could almost feel the confusion oozing off him. An hour ago, her father had openly declared his hatred for Malloy, and now he wanted to shake his hand and congratulate him. Someday, Willow would explain nothing was as important to Walter DeVane as his family.
"I may be a little biased, but I don't think you could've picked a finer woman."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Raith said solemnly and took the judge's hand.
"You can call me Walt, you know," the judge answered. Glancing at Willow, he added, "Or Dad."
Winking at her father, Willow hooked her arm through Raith's. "Ready to go?"
He met her gaze. "Whenever you are."
"I'm ready," she said and waved to her family as she hustled Malloy toward the first available exit. They made it back to his place in record time. Raith barely had the front door closed and locked before she was grabbing the lapels of his tuxedo jacket.
"Here," she offered in a husky voice. "Let me help you get this tight thing off." Wrapping her hands around his shoulders, she slipped the jacket off, running her palms down his sleek, muscled back as she did so.
"Thanks," he replied huskily, dipping his head toward her neck, but not actually touching his lips to her skin.
The close contact caused her to shudder. "Need help with anything else?" she asked, smoothing her hands around his sides to rub them up his ribcage and around to the front, covering his hard pecs with all ten fingers.
His hot blue eyes slid to hers. "I'll take all th
e help I can get."
~ * ~
"I'm nervous."
Willow glanced over her shoulder where a naked Raith spooned up behind her on his queen-sized mattress. His hands had been stroking her shoulder and arm, so she knew he was awake. But she figured he was too exhausted to talk.
"About what?" she mumbled, her brow furrowing as she rolled onto her other side to face him fully.
He sighed. "Having a baby. Trying the whole marriage thing again. Just… everything. It's a hell of a lot more than I was doing last month." He scooted up so they were eye-level.
"Well, so far, I gotta say, you're doing a damn fine job," she said as she stretched out her nude body, purring like a contented cat.
He grinned, skimmed a finger down a bare breast and whispered, "Will you do me a favor?"
"Anything."
Raith touched her face. "Tell me if I start to slide, will you? Don't let me ruin this thing we've got going, because it's the best damn thing that's ever happened to me."
Willow smiled, pleasure glittering in her eyes. "Do you really expect me to keep my mouth shut if you do something to tick me off?"
Raith chuckled. "Good point." He nuzzled his face against her neck.
Willow lay wrapped around him and held him close as he sighed and relaxed. She stayed there, wide awake, as he began to breathe more deeply and settle closer to her. She watched him sleep, still stunned about the night's conclusion. She was getting married. To him. She was going to become the wife of this fierce, passionate, handsome man.
She studied his features in the moonlit room, unable to stop smiling. "I love you, Raith Malloy," she softly told her sleeping fiancé. "You and little Bubble Malloy too."
A moment later, he patted her hip and mumbled what sounded like, "Coward."
Willow frowned. "Excuse me?" she said as she watched his eyes flicker open.
"You're such a coward," he repeated, his words thick with sleep.
Shaking her head, Willow demanded, "Oh? And how's that?"
"You couldn't tell me you loved me when I was awake, could you? Had to wait until you thought I was asleep."
"I did not!" Willow jerked to a sitting position. "I could've mentioned it any time I wanted."
"Then why didn't you?"
For a second, she sputtered. "I... I didn't think of it until just now."
Raith snorted. "Uh, huh. Sure."
"Well, you didn't say it to me either."
"Did too."
Willow lifted an eyebrow. "No," she stated adamantly. "You said I was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You mentioned nothing about love."
"Hell," Raith complained, yanking her moodily down to his side so he could curl back around her. "I thought I loved Deb, and that was nothing compared to this. You completely blow my mind, woman. I will never love anyone the way I love you."
Willow blinked. Then she relaxed against him and smiled in satisfaction. "Well… that's more like it."
As she kissed his chin, he growled sullenly but then buried his face in her hair and inhaled her scent. "Thank God," he muttered. "Can we get some sleep now?"
"I don't know." She yawned, already sinking toward oblivion. "Are you going to get any mushier on me? Dedicate the stars to me or
something?"
He cursed and pulled her snug against him. "Go to sleep, smartass."
Twenty Six
His cell phone rang the moment Raith stepped from the jewelry store. When he saw it was the station calling, he answered, "Malloy."
"Hey," the voice of Officer Hinton spoke in his ear. "Good news. We just got a blood match for the perpetrator who broke into your girlfriend's house."
Raith grinned at the term.
Girlfriend.
He wondered what Hinton would say if he corrected him and told the kid she was now officially his fiancée. Stuffing the ring box in his pocket, he patted the bulge it made and strolled toward his truck. "Great. What's this bastard's name?"
"You'll never believe it. Max Kettle."
Raith stopped in his tracks. "Are you shitting me?"
When Hinton's confirmation came back, he stopped breathing. Kettle had been dead set on exacting his revenge. But Raith never imagined he'd do it by going after Willow.
A cold sweat filmed his skin as he told the deputy to send someone to Willow's office. Then he hung up and hopped into his truck, speeding toward her himself.
~ * ~
"Miss DeVane?"
The voice of her secretary coming from her intercom dragged Willow from a wealth of daydreams. Straightening, she smoothed a hand over her still-flat stomach, grinned when she thought about it filling with Raith's baby, and answered, "Yes?"
"Your new client, Mr. Kettle, is here to meet with you."
Willow cleared her throat, hoping it would help clear her head as well. "Thank you, Jan. Please send him in."
She pasted a greeting smile to her face as she pushed to her feet but stopped cold as she spotted a figurine sitting on top of her filing cabinet. Frowning at it, she moved closer and sucked in a gasp.
The cop statue had returned.
Slowly, she reached out to touch it, thinking it couldn't be real. But the cool metal surface grazed her fingertips, letting her know she wasn't imagining anything.
Behind her, the door opened and a prickle of awareness shot up the back of her neck.
"Ah," came a smooth, cultured voice. "You found my present this time, I see."
She whirled around. As soon as she realized who was entering the tiny office, she opened her mouth to demand he leave, but she was so shocked, no words came out.
He shut the door behind him, locking it. "Scream and I'll cut your throat before anyone can save you," he told her, producing a huge knife in his hand.
Willow nodded, believing him. She couldn't take her gaze off that long blade, light glinting off the silver surface as he lifted it. "You broke into my home," she managed to say aloud.
He smiled. "Remember me, do you?"
"Actually, I remember that knife. I think you left its twin at my place the other night. If you're coming to retrieve it, I'm sorry, but I don't have it any longer. You might try the police station. I think they said they'd keep it safe until you showed up to claim it."
"Well, well. You're just a regular comedian now, aren't you, Willow? I couldn't see your smartass side after watching you from so far away these past few weeks."
Watching her? The creep really had been stalking her. Her skin crawled, tingling up her arms, along the back of her neck, and down her spine. "I can be direct if you like," she said. "Get out of my office. Now."
His amused smile fell. "That wasn't very nice."
"Stalking me and vandalizing my house isn't very nice," she countered, licking her suddenly dry lips. She glanced toward the phone on her desk. How fast could she lunge toward it and dial 911?
Probably about as fast as he could lunge toward her and slice her throat.
She swallowed. "What do you want?"
"I want to end your life," he answered, making her shiver by the evil relish in his voice.
Her purse sat behind her on her cabinet. Maybe she could inch backward, somehow dig her cell phone out, and call for help without him knowing. She shifted a step in reverse. "I don't even know you."
"Ah, but you know my buddy Malloy real well. Don't you?"
Willow froze.
"Yeah," he told her, his eyes flashing wicked delight. "Now, it's finally sinking in. I've been following him since the moment I got out of prison. He's the one who led me to you. He's the one you should thank for my, what was it you said, my stalking you."
She shook her head, confused. "I don't understand."
"Let me spell it out then, sweetheart. Malloy and I go way back. He's the asshole who got me sent to prison for two years. Two years of my life... gone. I had to live through horrors because of him." His bright eyes— glazed with insanity—trailed over her body. "Well, now I'm going to take something from him and teac
h him the true meaning of horror. Don't you think that's fair?"
"Um," she said in a small voice. "Well, no. Now that you mention it, I don't. Not really. I mean, I'm just an innocent third party here. I don't—"
"Innocent?" he cut in with a hard, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don't think so. If you can spread your legs for scum like Malloy then you deserve everything I'm going to give you."