He watched Mark splash around the pool. The ego was for music. In his personal life, Devin had never been sure of his identity. People saw whatever image they projected on the famous, and as much as that irked Devin, it also protected him. No one knew who he was. Then he’d stopped drinking and discovered he didn’t, either. Now he was trying to find out, and Rachel’s remark set the benchmark high. He wasn’t used to living up to people’s expectations, wasn’t sure if he always could.

But she made him want to grow. Could he?

Could he reveal himself to be as vulnerable to rejection as other men? Yet he’d never lacked courage. “You asked me on Wednesday why I’m doing this. It’s more than friendship, Rachel. I think I’m in love with you.”

Rubbing sunscreen over her legs, she paused, then her movements became brisk. “Of course you are. I’m the first ordinary woman you’ve spent time with. Understandably, you’re dazzled.” She started screwing the lid back on the tube.

“You don’t like the idea,” he said flatly.

“I don’t exactly fit the Devin Freedman template, do I? For a start, I’m only a B cup.”

Her flippant replies were irritating the hell out of him. Then he noticed Rachel was having trouble screwing the cap on. Taking it from her, he finished the job. “I’ve never met anyone who avoids risk the way you do. You chicken out if you have to. But if I want to love you, I’ll bloody love you, got that?”

“Well, you can’t,” she retorted. “That was never our deal.”

Understanding dawned on him and with it, incredulity. “You’re pissed because I’m suggesting more than a fling? If I didn’t have a rock star-size ego I’d be insulted by that.”

“That’s silly.” But a telltale blush spread across her cheeks.

“Okay, you know what?” Abruptly Devin stood. “I am insulted.”

He dived into the pool to join Mark, making damn sure she got wet.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RACHEL NEARLY DIVED in after him to apologize, but something stopped her. Probably the cowardice he’d accused her of. But she was still shocked by his casual declaration.

Even her two would-be fiancés had never said the L word-and neither had she. I love you had always seemed too extreme somehow for the calm, steady tenor of her previous relationships. Instead they’d talked about fondness, shared interests and goals. Certainly she’d never heard the word from her parents.

The only person who’d ever said he loved her had run back to college, terrified when she’d told him she was pregnant, and left his zealous parents to clean up the mess. Not love, sex. Teenage hormones.

Picking up a striped beach towel, she dried her arms and legs and watched Devin power into a fast crawl, water rolling off his muscular tanned shoulders as his arms sliced through it. And God knows, hormones played their part here. Now Devin wanted to change the rules? Well, what if she didn’t want to?

The infinity pool gave the illusion of being open-ended, and for a moment it looked as though Devin was going to swim straight over the cliff. Rachel fought the urge to stand and shout a warning. She didn’t want to lose him.

That made her even more afraid.

He surfaced, water dripping from his sleek, dark head, and glanced across the diamond-blue pool. “Come play with us, Heartbreaker.” Quick to anger, quicker to forgiveness. Oh, God, I’m in trouble.

“Yeah, come on in, Rach,” Mark called. “I think I saw a beach ball in the pool shed.” He climbed out and, grabbing a towel, disappeared into the small building. She hesitated on the side of the pool.

“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get your hair wet.”

“Not necessarily.” Rachel slid in up to her waist, felt the prickle of cool water on her sun-warmed skin. Gingerly she fanned her arms through the water. “Maybe I’ll stay in the shallow end.”

“The hell you will.”

Devin ducked under, and the next second a muscular arm wrapped around her waist. As the water closed over her head, Rachel started to protest, then laugh. He released her and she surfaced, coughing and spluttering.

Unrepentant Devin pinned her against the side of the pool with his body, long and wet. “No wimps allowed.” His gaze caressed her with the softness of a butterfly’s wing. A strange helplessness came over her, as much from fear as exhilaration.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Because she hadn’t considered a future possible with him, she hadn’t put any emotional safeguards in place. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Yes, you can.” He cupped her chin and lowered his head, his lips cool against hers, persuasive. So very persuasive. She surrendered to the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Man, I only left you guys for a few minutes,” Mark said in disgust.

Mortified, Rachel ducked under Devin’s arm and swam to the side.

“I was drowning,” Devin protested, laughing. “She was bringing me back to life.”

“Yeah, right.”

Rachel climbed out of the pool, avoiding her son’s eyes. “I’ll make us some lemonade.”

“Lots of ice,” Devin suggested wickedly.

She knotted her sarong around her waist.

“Is that a yes?” he said, and she knew he wasn’t talking about lemonade.

“I’ll think about it.”

Except she didn’t want to think, she simply wanted to savor this wonderful lightness, this trembling delight. Thinking would lead to questions like What the hell do you think you’re doing? In the kitchen, Rachel hummed as she cut and squeezed lemons, stirred in sugar and added ice. Lots of ice.

The doorbell rang as she returned to the pool, and she remembered Katherine’s request to ask Devin if his mother could bring a date tonight. Better get on that.

Balancing the tray in one hand, Rachel had the other on the door handle when she caught sight of her reflection in the hall mirror. Dumping the tray on a nearby table, she wiped sunscreen off her nose with one corner of her sarong. The doorbell chimed again-and whoever was there held it down.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Finger-combing her wet hair, she hauled open the oversize door and blinked.

A fleet of shiny black Mercedes were parked in the driveway and a dozen beautiful people spilled across the grass between the cars and the house. A burly guy moved forward, scanning first her and then the interior, before stepping aside.

Behind him, a man in his late thirties ranted on a cell phone decorated in diamonds, so dazzling in the sun that Rachel lifted her hand to shade her eyes. His teeth were almost as white, bared in a snarl. “I don’t give a shit how you do it, just do it.”

A handsome man, he was dressed in white jeans and a white leather waistcoat that oozed like oil over his muscled bronze torso with every irritable gesture he made. A silver chain-link necklace with a padlock hung around his broad neck.

His shaggy blond hair looked to have enough product in it to punch its own hole in the ozone layer, and below his designer sunglasses, his strong, full mouth was currently issuing a stream of obscenities into the phone.

Two gorgeous women in their early twenties, with pneumatic breasts and lips, assessed Rachel as though they were judges in the Miss World pageant and she couldn’t even qualify for Miss Congeniality.

One of them stepped forward. “About time. Is Devin Freedman home?”

Before Rachel could answer, the man rang off, his gaze sweeping over her in the same quick dismissal. It stopped at the sweetheart bodice of her bathing suit. “Holy crap, I feel like I’m on Gilligan’s Island.”

Even if Rachel had been the help, these people needed a lesson in manners. She lifted her chin. “Is Mr. Freedman expecting you?”

The man raised one blond eyebrow and took off his shades to reveal laser-blue, bloodshot eyes. “Don’t you know who-”

“Let me check if he’s available.” Closing the door in his face, she locked it, picked up the drink tray and strolled back to the pool. Devin and Mark were lobbing the ball back and forth with graceful athleticism.