Every Little Thing
Page 103

Although it was a mere short walk, Vaughn insisted on driving us to the Grand in his Aston Martin.
“Is it a guy thing?” I asked when he wouldn’t tell me why. “A ‘my dick is bigger than your dick’ thing?”
He’d grinned. “Yes.”
I’d laughed, so much joy and mischief inside me I was ready to burst with it.
This man, this beautiful man, had turned the shittiest day ever into the most beautiful day ever, ever, ever.
Holding my hand in his, I felt this weird sense of possessiveness I’d never felt before as we walked through the reception of the Grand. I gloried in the fact that this guy was my guy, and I felt a triumphant swing in my hips as women drooled over my guy and stared at me in envy. They thought he was beautiful and they envied me my beautiful. But what they didn’t know was that Vaughn Tremaine’s complicated soul was a million times more beautiful to me than the pretty face they saw.
I wasn’t triumphant because my guy was hot.
I was triumphant because I’d found the kind of love that was hard to find, and I was finally brave enough to embrace it.
Mine.
All mine.
I tightened my grip on his hand and he looked back at me. “It’ll be okay.” He assumed I was nervous.
I just smiled. “I know.”
He squeezed my hand. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you. But you always do.”
Vaughn just rolled his eyes at me, making me laugh, laughter that was squashed with a more subtle glee as the restaurant maître d’, Arnold Rumer, stopped us.
“Our party is waiting for us,” Vaughn said, and I followed his gaze.
He’d spotted Devlin. And he wasn’t alone. Ian sat with his sons, Jack and Stu.
“Table, sir?”
“Mr. Devlin’s.”
“Ah.” Arnold recognized me. “Miss Hartwell, of course. Mr. Devlin said he was expecting you.”
Not the one he was expecting but technically . . . “Yes.”
Struggling not to giggle like an impish child, I curled my arm around Vaughn’s and he patted my hand.
“Keep it together, princess,” he murmured, amused, as we followed Arnold over to Devlin’s table.
Ian Devlin’s face broke into a smug smirk at the sight of us. He waved Arnold away and studied us. The bastard thought he had me in the palm of his hands.
I couldn’t wait to wipe that look off his face.
As for Jack, I let him see how betrayed I felt. He stared back at me, blank, apparently unmoved by my hurt.
Fine. No forgiveness or Emery Saunders for you, you jerk.
I sneered at Stu. “No ski mask tonight?”
Stu smiled, a smile that would never reach those cold eyes of his. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you, Miss Hartwell. And looking so well.” Ian gestured to my black dress. “I see your taste in clothing doesn’t translate to your taste in men, however.”
“You’re right. I have much better taste in men.”
“You do know he’s slept with every single attractive woman that’s stayed at his hotel.”
Vaughn’s hand tensed in mine as he scowled at Devlin like he wanted to rip his face off.
“Really?” I tugged on Vaughn gently and he turned to face me. “Huh. So that’s why you’re so amazing in bed. Makes sense.”
His lips twitched with laughter and his whole body relaxed.
I grinned as I looked back at an annoyed Devlin. “His experience speaks volumes.” I even winked.
Jack coughed into his fist and I could have sworn he was trying to cover his laughter.
Hmm.
“Enough of this.” Ian sighed as if he were weary. “I take it you’re here to try and stop proceedings but your sister has made up her mind. However, let me put your mind at ease, Miss Hartwell. My involvement in our inn will be a good thing. I’m going to make it the most successful business on that boardwalk.”
I bristled. “I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Devlin.”
“Oh? Because of the minority share? I know. But we’ll work on that. Why don’t we wait for Vanessa to arrive? Take a seat.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Vaughn moved us closer to the table. “I put Vanessa in a cab a few hours ago. She’s gone.”
“What are you talking about?” Stu snapped.
“I’m talking about the fact that I made a counteroffer. She accepted.” Vaughn put the contract on the table. “Now I own her share in Hart’s Inn.”
Fury colored Ian Devlin’s face. I thought his head might explode it turned red so fast.
Vaughn took the contract off the table and handed it to me. “Tomorrow those shares get transferred back into Bailey’s name.” His expression changed as he turned back to them. I shivered at the sudden blast of chill from him as he let go of me to press his hands down on the table. It brought him closer to the Devlins so they could hear his quiet but very menacing caution. “I think I warned you before that if you did anything to upset Miss Hartwell, I wouldn’t be too pleased. That’s putting it mildly, Mr. Devlin. So . . . here’s a little heads-up. One, if you come after her again, and I wouldn’t if I were you, I will cripple you financially, piece by piece. And I think we both know that is not an empty threat. Two, I was on the defense before in this little war you’re waging to get a piece of property on the boardwalk. But Hartwell, as it turns out, agrees with me. I’m making it my home. Permanently. That means I’m making it my business. Do you understand what I’m saying?”