Moonlight Scandals by Jennifer L. Armentrout

For the second time in one day, Rosie was about to do something that sort of made her want to punch herself.

And it wasn’t even noon yet.

Fingers tightening around the strap of her heavy bag, she lifted her other hand to knock, but before she could make contact, the door swung open.

Richard Besson stood in front of her, the lines in his forehead increasing as his brows lifted. “Rosie! What a surprise.”

“Hi.” She smiled as the man stepped forward, giving her a quick, warm hug.

“Are you here to see Nikki?” he asked, clasping her shoulders. “She’s in Gabe’s quarters. I can take you there—”

“I’m not here to see Nikki. I’m here to see Devlin.”

The surprise that filled the man’s face was tangible. “You’re here to see Devlin?”

“Yes.” She fixed what she hoped wasn’t a creepy smile on her face. “I know that sounds weird, but I really do need to see him. Is he here?”

Nikki’s father’s expression smoothed out and for a moment she feared that he was going to tell her no and shoo her away. “He is here, actually. He hasn’t left for his office yet.” Richard stepped back, holding the door for her. “I can see if he’s available.”

“That would be awesome. Thank you.” She followed him inside, stopping in a massive, grand foyer that she was positive was the size of her entire apartment.

Richard closed the door behind them. “Come. I’ll have you wait for him in the sitting room.”

Her wide eyes swung from the sparkling chandelier to the grand staircase to, finally, Richard’s back. He was leading her to the right, through an archway that connected to a long hallway. Everywhere she looked, there was something to gawk at. “The woodwork is amazing. My word,” she said, staring at the trim that had what appeared to be vines engraved into it.

“Yes. Isn’t it?” Richard walked them past several closed doors before stopping in front of one that looked like others they’d passed. “Gabriel did all the woodwork you see in here and most of the furniture.”

“Wow.” Nikki had mentioned Gabe’s side business, but Rosie really hadn’t realized how talented he was until that moment.

“Why don’t you have a seat in here, and I’ll go see if Devlin is available. Okay?” When Rosie nodded, Richard smiled at her. “Would you like anything? A drink?”

Rosie shook her head as she glanced around the sitting room—a room that had the kind of fancy chairs and sofas that looked like people didn’t sit in them. “I’m fine.”

Richard nodded and then started for the door. He stopped and turned back to her. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for being there for my daughter.”

“Oh.” She felt her face warm. “It’s no big deal. That’s what friends do.”

“That’s what real friends do, Rosie. There is a difference.”

Richard left before she had a chance to respond. Watching him close the door, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

She’d left Ross sitting in the café and gone straight to her apartment and grabbed the rest of . . . Andrea’s belongings. Devlin’s paranoia must be catching, because she waited to make sure Ross hadn’t followed her before she got in her car and drove out to the de Vincent manor.

Part of her hadn’t been thinking, because she could’ve called Devlin, but this was something he needed to see and not hear over the phone. Rosie exhaled loudly as she neared the velvet-cushioned sofa. Coming here could be a mistake, but for some reason, and maybe it was instinct, she didn’t believe what Ross had told her. That Dev had killed his father. But that didn’t mean the family—possibly the senator—didn’t have something to do with that poor woman’s disappearance or Lawrence’s death.

Rosie honest to God had no idea what the hell was going on, but she didn’t trust Ross. Not after what she’d learned, and she did know that Devlin had no idea that her apartment was owned by his father until this weekend. He sure as hell hadn’t known what was hidden in that closet.

Whatever was going on, he needed to know about this.

Biting down on her lip, she turned in a slow circle and checked out the room. It was beautiful. Stunning furniture set around a large fireplace. Interesting artwork adorned the walls. Placing her bag on the Victorian-style sofa, she walked over to one of the paintings. It appeared to be of a cemetery—tombs shaded in grays. Goodness. The artwork was so well-done that it nearly looked like a photograph. Only upon close inspection could you see the brush strokes. Her gaze fell to the right corner, to the initials LDV.

Rosie’s head cocked to the side. “LDV . . . ?”

“Stands for Lucian de Vincent.”

Letting out a little shriek, Rosie spun around and found that she wasn’t alone. “Oh my gosh.” She pressed her palm into her chest. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

The blond de Vincent smiled. “I can be very quiet when I want to, which isn’t very often.” He grinned as he leaned against the fireplace mantel. “We haven’t had the chance to meet . . . officially, have we?”

“No.” She stepped away from the painting. “I’m—”

“Rosie,” he answered for her as his grin turned into the kind of smile she hadn’t yet seen on his brother’s face. “I know who you are and I have so many questions for you.”

Dev was feeling the effects of too much bourbon and too little sleep as he stepped off the treadmill and grabbed a fresh towel.

He was sweating liquor, Jesus.

Probably would’ve been wise of him to take the day off, but running shut his head down. Always had. The moment his sneakers hit the belt or the pavement, he thought of nothing. His head was quiet, and he realized this afternoon that the quiet he experienced when he was running was different than the quiet he felt around Rosie. He’d mistaken that time for the same kind of quiet, but it wasn’t. When he was with her, he didn’t think about Lawrence or his brothers, Sabrina, or what was in Nebraska and now currently in his condo. But he was still thinking. Not like when he was running, but his mind was solely focused on her when he was with her, and damn, if that was just about as good as the silence he got when he was running.

“You can trust me.”

Fuck.

Those words were going to haunt him.

Wiping his face off, he tugged the earbuds free as he walked toward the laundry hamper. He tossed the towel in and then opened the door. He made it about three feet when Besson rounded the corner.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Besson’s long strides were that of a much younger man. “You have a visitor.”

“Please tell me it’s not Stefan,” he remarked, stopping.

The man was too professional to show a response. “No. It is Rosie Herpin.”

Dev blinked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s Rosie Herpin,” Besson repeated, clasping his hands behind his back. “She’s a friend of—”

“I know who she is.” He couldn’t believe that she’d come here. “Where is she?”

“In the formal sitting room.”

Pivoting around, he started down the hall, his heart thumping heavier than it did when he was running.

“Devlin,” called Besson. “A moment please?”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, impatient. “Yes?”

A look of confusion settled into Besson’s expression. “Would you like to take a moment to . . . get ready?”

For a second, Dev wasn’t sure what Besson was referring to and then the man looked pointedly at Dev’s bare chest.

“I can have Nikki keep her company while she waits,” Besson offered.

That would be the appropriate thing to do. His shirt was and body was soaked in sweat. “That won’t be necessary.”

There was a flash of surprise that replaced the confusion on his face, and he couldn’t blame the old man for that look, but he wasn’t going to waste time on showering and changing. He prowled to the end of the hall and hung a right. Within moments he was nearing the sitting room, and his steps slowed as he heard laughter coming from the room.

What the hell?

His steps picked up and he cursed under his breath as he reached for the handle. He heard Lucian’s laugh joining Rosie’s. Shit. Rosie alone with Lucian was not going to end well for him. Yanking open the door, his gaze immediately found Rosie. Weird as hell, but the first place he looked was where she was, sitting on the sofa. In that moment, he completely forgot that she wasn’t alone. There was only her.

Her gaze flew to him and those hazel eyes widened. Those wild, thick curls were loose, falling over her shoulders and framing her heart-shaped face. She was dressed casually, wearing a long-sleeve shirt that slipped, exposing the tantalizing skin of one shoulder. Who knew a shoulder could be so . . . enticing?

Dev had seen Rosie less than twenty-four hours ago and he was still rattled by the sight of her, still caught off guard by . . . by everything about her. He was held immobile by it, absolutely enthralled. There was something wrong with that, he was sure.

A throat cleared, and with great effort, he pulled his gaze from her to where Lucian was sprawled in a chair. “What are you doing in here?” he asked.

Lucian’s smile was a warning of mischief. “I was keeping Rosie company while she waited for you. I told her it might take some time since you were working out, but obviously I underestimated how eager you’d be to join her.” His gaze drifted over Dev. “I was just telling her about the time you were suspended from boarding school for breaking curfew.”

Dev’s brows shot together. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s playing coy. Don’t let him fool you,” Lucian said, winking at Rosie. “Dev is a lot wilder than he lets on. He’s such a rebel.”

“Is he?” Rosie murmured, lips twitching like she was struggling not to laugh.

“I know what you’re talking about. However, I believe you’re not telling the whole story,” he remarked dryly. “I was caught breaking curfew because Gabe and Lucian decided they were going to sneak out by tying bedsheets together to climb out the window. I was there to stop the two from breaking their necks.”

“You’re always there to stop us from doing something foolish,” Lucian replied with sarcasm.

“Mostly and definitely not always.” Dev’s gaze shifted back to Rosie. “If you’d excuse us, Lucian?”

“Of course.” Lucian rose, turning to Rosie. “Have your team members contact me directly about the house.”

Rosie nodded. “Will do.”

Dev opened his mouth.

“Perfect. I will handle it from here,” Lucian continued smoothly. “Don’t forget my offer. I hope you will join us, Rosie.”

“Join you for what?” Dev demanded, his gaze swinging back to his brother.

Lucian just smiled at him and then brushed past him as he walked out of the sitting room, closing the door behind him. Turning back to Rosie, he asked, “Join him for what?”

“Wow,” she said, staring at him. “You do own something other than trousers. I’m shocked.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“Lucian invited me to dinner with him and his girlfriend at the end of the month,” she answered. “And with Gabe and Nikki. There’s some kind of party they are having.”

“He did?” The party that she spoke of was where Lucian planned to propose to Julia. Why he’d invite Rosie, a woman neither of them knew, meant he was surely up to something. “So, you would be the third wheel?”

Her lips curved up on one side. “Actually, I would be the fifth wheel if I’m the only other person attending, but I’m under the impression that it’s a party and not a dinner date, and I also assume that you would be there also.”

Dev would be. “Is that why you would go? Because you assume I would be at this party?”

A long moment passed and then she exhaled heavily as she pressed her hands to her knees. “I’m not planning on joining them. So, you don’t have to worry about me being there.”

Disappointment flickered through him, but he ignored it. “Why are you here, Rosie?”

She looked away from him, to the purse sitting next to her. “I found something I thought you should see. Actually, I’ve learned something, too, I thought you should know.” She glanced back at him and frowned. “Do you think you could find a shirt that’s not glued to your skin?”

He lifted a brow. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

Dev stepped toward her. “You’ve seen . . . and felt far more than my chest.”

“I know.” She shifted on the couch and she stared at him in such a manner that made him wonder if she wished to touch him. His cock liked the idea of that. “You must . . . work out a lot.”

“I run daily. So, it’s not that it makes you uncomfortable,” he clarified. “It distracts you.”

Slowly, her gaze lifted to his. “If I said yes, would find a different shirt?”

“No.”

A quick grin appeared and then disappeared as she shook her head. “Then I’ll have to make do.”

“Yes. You will.”

Rosie reached for her bag. “Whatever. I’ve seen enough nice bods in my life. Yours is nice, but not special.”

His brows flew up, but before he could get her to elaborate on that statement, she went on, “After you left last night, I remembered something. The other day when I was rage cleaning my closet—”

“That thing apparently only people with human emotions do that I’m unfamiliar with?”

“Yes. That thing. Anyway, when I was organizing my closet, I saw that there was something jacked up about the back wall, but I forgot about until after you left.”

His curiosity was officially piqued. “What do you mean by ‘jacked’?”

“It was like the wall had come apart, but it hadn’t come apart. It must’ve been a hidden door or something,” she said. “I pulled it apart and there was something back there. Actually, there were three things back there.”

The sweat cooled on his skin. “What did you find, Rosie?”

She wet her lower lip and then picked up her purse. “I’m really hoping I’m making the right call by bringing this to you and I don’t end up like the last tenant of my apartment.”

“What do you mean about the last tenant?”

“You don’t know? I moved into my place about two years ago and you know who went missing around that time?” She clutched the top of her bag. “Andrea Joan. Your uncle’s intern.”

It felt like the floor moved under his feet. “Andrea Joan lived in your apartment?”

“Apparently. Not only that, she was Ross Haid’s girlfriend.” She let out a nervous laugh. “Something I just learned this morning.” Reaching inside the bag, she pulled out a maroon photo album and laid it on the coffee table. “This was back there. It’s just a bunch of pictures of a vacation. Ross is in them. Did you know that was his girlfriend?”

Dev picked up the album and opened it. “I knew.”

“Of course,” Rosie murmured. “Did you know the only reason he searched me out in the first place was because I moved into that apartment and he knew I was friends with Nikki?”

His gaze flew to hers as his back tightened. “I suspected he befriended you because of your relationship with Nikki, but I didn’t know she’d lived there. That wasn’t the address that was on file for her.”

“Ross confirmed it was her place,” she said. “I met with him this morning, because I saw the photo album and I didn’t know who she was at first.”

Dev tensed as he closed the photo album. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. He asked if that album was the only thing I found and I told him yes, but that’s not the truth. I did find two other things.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a slender jewelry box. “It’s a diamond bracelet. Kind of weird someone would hide that with a photo album, right?”

“Right.” He took the box and opened it. His jaw clenched as he stared at the bracelet.

“But that’s not the strangest thing. There was also an iPad in there.” She pulled it out, and Dev damn near fell over. “It’s dead, but I figure it just needs charging and . . . a man with your talents and money can probably find someone to unlock it.” Leaning over, she placed it on the coffee table. “I have no idea she lived there or that any of this stuff was there. And I have no idea what is on that iPad, because there has to be something, right? Because why would you hide that?”

Hell.

Dev placed the box on the table as he stared at the iPad. God only knew what was on that device, but Rosie was right. He had the means to find out. Part of him could already hazard a guess. Whatever was on that tablet was probably why Andrea disappeared.

“That’s not all,” Rosie said, glancing at the closed door. “It’s what Ross also said, and maybe you already know this—”

“He thinks we have something to do with Andrea’s disappearance? He’s made that abundantly clear in the past.”

Rosie placed her bag back on the couch. “That’s not all he thinks.”

“I can only imagine,” he replied dryly.

“He told me that . . . that he thinks you murdered your father.”

A muscle thrummed along his jaw as he thought back to the photograph he’d received at the Red Stallion. “Did he say why he believed this?”

“Not really.”

“And what do you think, Rosie?”

“Honestly? I don’t know what I think. I mean, I think Andrea might’ve been having an affair with your uncle. Why else would she hide a bracelet? And the way Ross talked, it sounded like she was having an affair, but maybe . . . maybe whatever was going on with Andrea has to do with your father,” she said. “Ross said that Andrea was acting paranoid and she also met with Lawrence a week before she disappeared. Maybe she did know something and she told him—told him what she knew and . . .”

“He was murdered for it?” he supplied.

She dragged her hands over her thighs and then rose. “Maybe? Look, I have no idea what is going on here, but you came to my apartment because you found out that your father owned it. And then I find out the place was rented by this woman who was tied to your uncle and then went missing. Something is going on here. I don’t know what, but it’s freaky.” She started to pace in front of the couch. “I just thought you needed to know.”

Dev wasn’t sure how to process this—that she’d brought these items to him. “And you didn’t think Ross needed to know?”

“Ross is a liar,” Rosie shot back. “Not that I don’t get his need to find out what happened to his girlfriend, but he’s never been honest with me. He’s a liar.”

Moving without thought, Dev stepped in front of Rosie. She drew up short and tipped her head back. As close as they were, he could see the flecks of green in her eyes. Her lashes lowered and he knew she was staring at his sweat-defined chest. She stepped back, and it took everything in him to resist the urge to follow her.

Rosie drew in a visibly deep breath. “Have you gotten in contact with the property manager?”

“Left a message first thing this morning.”

“Good. Can you let me know . . . ?” Her nose scrunched in a rather adorable way. “Wait. I don’t think I want to know if you find out anything.”

A twisting motion swept from his stomach to his chest. If this was some elaborate plan put in place by Ross, then wouldn’t she want to know?

Holy shit.

Dev felt close to faint as he stood there. Could it be possible that she hadn’t been lying this entire time? That the little voice that whispered that over and over could be telling the truth?

“Anyway, that’s why I came here and I hope . . . I hope I made the right choice.” She turned from him and picked up her purse, sliding the strap up her arm. “I don’t know what is going on with your family. Seems like a lot of . . . just a lot, and I pray that it doesn’t end up affecting Nikki any more than it has—”

“It won’t.” His gaze dipped to that one bare shoulder. “That I can promise you.”

She stilled as those eyes latched on to his again. “I . . . I believe you.”

It felt like his entire body jerked, but it was just his heart. Shock rippled through him. “Why would you trust me?” he asked, genuinely confounded. “If what Ross suspects is true and Andrea went missing because she found something implicating Stefan, then why would you come to me? The same thing could happen to you.”

“That’s a good question, especially considering how much you don’t trust me, but what I do know is that Ross has lied to me since the beginning,” she said, holding his gaze. “And as far as I know, you haven’t lied to me. That’s why.”

Dev looked away, and then for the first time in a very, very long time, he wanted to tell the truth. That he was nothing more than a liar, worse than what she could ever think Ross had lied about.