On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [53]
“Lordy,” Lilah said, drawn in despite herself. “It’s too early in the morning for that much hollering and carrying on. Unless you made coffee?”
She clasped her hands and turned pleading eyes on Devon, who laughed.
“I did. I couldn’t find all the parts to the espresso machine, but I scavenged a French press from one of my cabinets.”
Lilah laughed. “A French press? Sounds like a medieval torture device. And what do you mean you can’t find all of your coffee maker?”
Devon arched a brow at her. “I’m far too busy and important to make my own coffee on a daily basis. On weekdays, my assistant takes care of it. And on the weekends . . .” His voice trailed off and to Lilah’s surprise, Devon’s cheeks went a dull brick red. He flicked a glance at Tucker, who had dragged a tattered spiral-bound notebook from his backpack and started drawing during a commercial break.
And Lilah got it. The fully stocked guest suite was a clue. Women. Every weekend. And if his behavior with Lilah that first night was any indicator of his MO, it was a different woman every week.
She was just one of many.
Stomach twisting and dropping to her knees, she said, “On the weekends you usually have company.” The kind of company who never got familiar enough with the kitchen to know where things were put away.
“Right,” Devon said, sounding relieved. “Company.”
Lilah was so completely out of her league here.
“I’ll go pour myself a cup,” she said brightly. “Can I get you anything while I’m in the kitchen?”
“Lilah,” Devon said, his voice urgent.
“Nothing? Okay, then, back in a sec. Is the kitchen through there? Right, no problem, I’m sure I can find everything just fine. No need to trouble yourself.” She was babbling. She needed to get a minute alone before she made a complete and utter fool of herself.
Lilah hurried through the doorway Devon had indicated and found herself in the most beautiful kitchen she’d ever seen outside of a magazine.
The countertops gleamed with polished black stone flecked with glints of copper and antique gold, providing high contrast to the beautiful red wood of the cabinets. Lilah had to do a double take to pick out the fridge; it was also covered in that same red wood, seamlessly integrated into the expanse of cabinetry.
The counter on the far side of the large room butted up on a small corner nook set up like a restaurant booth with benches on either side of a rectangular table. Immediately, Lilah flashed on an image of the three of them sitting companionably around the breakfast table, laughing and sharing the paper. Devon would take the Style section, Lilah would pore over the theater reviews, and Tucker would be giggling over the funnies.
She blinked to clear her vision. Quit it, she ordered herself. You’re acting like a love-struck idiot, painting pretty pictures of domestic bliss with a man who can barely even speak to his own son, and who has more lovers in a month than you’ve had your whole adult life.
Beyond ridiculous, to imagine one month as a nanny with a crush could turn into a real family. Especially when Devon was clearly more comfortable with relationships that lasted no longer than a few days. Or hours.
All the same, it was a beguiling image, and Lilah had a hard time eradicating it completely even after she turned her back on the breakfast nook to find the coffee. She located it in a glass container that looked like a tall, slender pitcher on silver legs. Devon had left out a ceramic mug, Lilah saw. She could only assume it was for her, and the gesture warmed her. The mug was gray and green, with graceful abstract lines etched into the sides and a sweetly round belly. Lilah poured a cup and wrapped her cold hands around it, stealing as much warmth for herself as she could.
It was stupid to be upset. Stupid to feel blindsided. Devon was an almost unbearably attractive man with enough charisma to charm the spots off a leopard, as Lilah knew from delicious firsthand experience.
As if that weren’t enough, he also had piles of money and a big hit television show. And Lilah knew he wasn’t