Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It

by Lucy Monroe

  "You sound like Isabel."

  "I don't know the pastor from the church Jenny, Aaron and I attend very well, but maybe he would marry us."

  "We'll look into it tomorrow. Okay?"

  Relieved that he wasn't going to go all blank male on her and insist that a courthouse wedding would be more efficient, she caressed his cheek in approval. "Okay. Marcus?"

  His hand had wandered to her backside, his fingers going to dangerous places. "Mmmm?"

  "I don't want Aaron to be an only child."

  His hands stilled on their sensual exploration. "You want to have more children with me?"

  "At least one more, maybe two. Would you mind?"

  She found herself flat on her back with Marcus looming over her, male hunger and satisfaction etched in every line of his face. "That's not a problem."

  She laughed at his enthusiastic response and that was the last sound she made besides moans for the next forty-five minutes.

  Once again snuggled against him, this time her body draped over his, she said, "You are officially retired as a male barracuda."

  "Do I get to collect retirement?" he asked.

  "I mean it. No more lunch dates, even for the job," she said, in case he didn't get the message.

  He rubbed the base of her spine with small circular motions. "It goes both ways, baby."

  She laughed at the idea of her being a man-eater. 'That's not a problem," she said, repeating his earlier answer.

  "That means no flirtation with sweet college interns." He sounded very happy about that limitation.

  "I'm not working at Kline Tech anymore. There are no college interns on my horizon," she reminded him deflatingly.

  "Well, the university is bound to be full of college men, if not interns, and I don't care how sweet any of them are; your study partners are all going to be female."

  "University?" she asked.

  "I thought maybe you'd like to go back and finish your degree. You could do it part-time at first, get the hang of being in school again."

  She could spend more time with Aaron that way as well.

  Tears in her eyes, she hugged him tightly to her.

  "You really are the most wonderful man in the world."

  "It may have taken you eighteen months to get there, but you've finally got it right," he teased.

  She didn't laugh. She agreed. It had taken a while. But she'd finally gotten it right.

  She'd gotten Marcus.

  "You could have worn something a little more conservative. Itis your wedding day."

  Marcus glared at Alex Trahern, his best friend and partner in CIS. "Hey. I wore a tux."

  He'd even traded his loafers for a pair of expensive black dress shoes. What more could Alex want?

  "Yeah, well your cummerbund and tie are bright enough to make Veronica wish she'd worn sunglasses."

  Marcus looked down at the tropical birds covering the cummerbund and matching bow tie and saw nothing wrong with them. He'd seen them in the tux shop and had known immediately that Ronnie would appreciate them as much as he did. He'd been right. She'd smiled when she saw him standing next to the minister.

  He'd wanted to kiss her, but had been forced to wait until after exchanging vows that made her his wife.

  They'd gotten married in Seattle as planned, but his mother had insisted on throwing a reception at a downtown hotel and had asked them to wait one more week so she could do it. He had grudgingly given in, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  She and Mark had been both shocked and surprisingly pleased to learn they were already grandparents. Marcus would have thought the offspring from his half brother and half sister would have been enough for them.

  Ronnie had laughed when he expressed as much to her and informed him that grandparents never felt they had enough grandchildren. He guessed he'd have to spend more time visiting them, so they could get to know Aaron. The prospect no longer held the old specters it used to, not when he'd have Ronnie by his side.

  Mark had abdicated his role as father a long time ago, but he would make a terrific grandfather and Marcus could live with that.

  "Ronnie likes the way I dress," Marcus informed Alex, with arrogant satisfaction.

  According to his new wife, she liked pretty much everything about him.

  Alex smiled, his gaze wandering to where his wife, Isabel, stood talking to George Kline's personal assistant, Allison. "And here I always thought she had better taste than that."

  "Hey, she's crazy about me. What can I say?" Marcus took a sip of his champagne and caught his wife's gaze across the room.

  She smiled and blew him a kiss before turning to say something to her sister.

  Jenny had been the maid of honor and very happy that Ronnie and he had gotten back together. She had gone so far as to plan their new life in Portland with typical teenage enthusiasm.

  "Her taste has never been in question. Unlike Isabel, she wasn't willing to settle for a man who thinks the only colors appropriate for male attire are black and shades of gray."

  Alex's dark eyes glittered with humor. "Isabel hasn't complained."

  "But she bought you a pink polo." Alex had worn it twice.

  "She likes me to try new things."

  Knowing Alex and knowing Isabel, who had shown up at the office on more than one occasion with a picnic basket and a wicked little smile, Marcus had no doubt Alex wasn't just talking about his attire.

  "Nice party," George Kline remarked as he stopped beside Alex and Marcus.

  "My mom makes a good hostess." She also made a very sweet and supportive mother-in-law, according to Ronnie.

  Still, he wouldn't have minded skipping the party. He just wanted to get Ronnie alone. Consummating his marriage sounded like a lot more fun than celebrating it with champagne, food and a bunch of chitchat.

  "You did a damn fine job with your investigation. My lawyers assure me that Jack's hide is as good as nailed."

  Marcus had finished the investigation two days earlier, turning in a report with enough evidence to guarantee a conviction against Jack Branson for contract violation and industrial espionage. He probably wouldn't do any jail time—most white collar criminals didn't—but Marcus would be willing to bet that all of the man's ill-gotten gains would end up paying for court fees and fines.

  "It gave me a lot of personal satisfaction," said Marcus.

  Alex's eyes turned serious and he inclined his head in male understanding. Jack had hurt Ronnie, and at that point, Marcus would have nailed him even if Kline had pulled the financial plug on the investigation.

  "Did you ever find out who told him about Ronnie's past?" Alex asked.

  "Harrison had told his personal assistant. Jack knew how to grease the wheels of the rumor mill and got the story out of her. He has a pretty fine knack for putting two and two together. It's helped him in his sideline of selling corporate information to the highest bidder."

  "But why look into it all?" Kline asked.

  Marcus took another sip of his champagne. "He didn't trust me. The idea of Kline Tech expanding through investment didn't sit right with what he knew of your business style."

  Kline frowned. "Damn. The man saw too much, but I still don't understand why he researched Veronica."

  "As her supervisor, he would have known about her having worked tor my company and leaving it. He probably noticed she hadn't put anyone from CIS down as a work reference and decided it was worth investigation."

  Alex nodded. "There'd been speculation about a takeover of Hypertron after Harrison and St. Clair made their deal. I don't know how Jack figured out CIS had a role in it, unless he just took a stab at it after finding out I was married to Harrison's daughter."

  "Whatever the reason, he figured there was a story in there somewhere, and he went looking for it." It would be a long time before Marcus would forget the desolation in Ronnie's eyes when he'd shown up at her apartment after she'd gotten fired. "It looks like your wife is trying to get your attention."

 
Marcus liked the sound of that so much it took him a second to glance where Kline was pointing. Ronnie balanced on a chair, her smile radiant, her delectable little body outlined in every curve by the crinkly, clingy ivory fabric of her short dress. She was getting ready to toss the bouquet.

  Afterward, he was supposed to remove her garter and sling it to a crowd of single men.

  He didn't need further urging. The idea of rubbing his hands on her silky thigh, if only temporarily to get the garter, had him wishing he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, not the black tuxedo pants, which did about as much to hide the evidence of his arousal as a pair of boxers would have done.

  He reached Ronnie just as she threw the bouquet over her shoulder.

  Allison caught it with a totally bemused look on her face. George Kline walked right up to her and pulled her into his arms for a kiss that left no one in the room in any doubt about the relationship between the two of them.

  Then, he watched with amusement as the older man slid a ring on Allison's left hand and the PA started to cry, her smile as wide as the outdoors. Marcus's smile was pretty big too as he turned away from the sweet tableau to face his beautiful wife. He knelt in front of Ronnie, now seated on the chair she'd been standing on.

  Her smile melted his heart and he forgot about Allison and Kline's happy ending in favor of his own. "Ready?"

  He slid his fingers just under the hem of her dress and encountered the satin garter. "More than you know."

  Her gaze dropped to the front of his pants and then flew back to his face. "I guess you are."

  The room faded away as he slid the garter down her leg, centimeter by centimeter. By the time he'd removed her pump and slid it over her sexy little foot, she was breathing in shallow little pants and the shouts of approval around them had grown deafening enough to pierce his desire-filled brain.

  He leaned forward and gave her a kiss filled with promise of things to come before standing up and slinging the thing over his shoulder. He didn't bother to see who caught it.

  He'd waited long enough.

  He swept her out of the chair and started carrying her out of the reception room. His mother tried to stop him and ask a question, but he walked by her with a promise to call her later.

  Alex wolf whistled and someone else yelled something about them not being able to wait to get alone. He didn't bother to agree; he figured his actions spoke for him.

  He pushed the button on the elevator. It had been smart to get a room in the same hotel as the reception for their wedding night. It saved travel time.

  They were leaving in the morning for their honeymoon. He was taking Ronnie to Paris. She'd been miserable before in France and he wanted to give her some very good memories to make up for the harsh ones.

  Jenny and Aaron were staying with Alex and Isabel while he and Ronnie were gone. The babies already played together like they'd been doing it since birth.

  Ronnie's arms locked around his neck as he stepped onto the elevator.

  Once they were in the suite, he laid her on the bed and stood above her. She was his; this beautiful, enticing, strong-willed, bighearted woman was his. He almost couldn't take it in.

  "I love you, Veronica Danvers."

  Her eyes glistened and her mouth curved. "I love you, Marcus Danvers. Forever."

  He had always believed that love made you weak, now he knew better. His love for Ronnie made him strong and complete. He looked forward to a life filled with love, joy and the occasional squinty-eyed wife intent on having her own way. It just couldn't get any better than that.

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  Josie's heart fluttered in her chest as Daniel unlocked the door to their hotel room. Facing armed guerillas was not as intimidating as the unknown beyond that door.

  She'd known soldiering her whole life, but the man-woman thing and sex were all a complete mystery to her. Other women started heavy petting when she'd been busy learning how to build and dismantle car bombs. The only orgasms she'd known had been of the self-made variety and while they made pretty good battle-tension relievers, they weren't anything to get excited about.

  Not like the way she felt when Daniel kissed her.

  Which was why she was here, ready to make love for the first time to a man who until that very-morning, she'd been convinced didn't even like her.

  He'd acted like he liked her in the park. He'd played with her and she had a feeling their tussling had been as new an experience for him as it had been for her, but the desire they felt was not.

  He knew so much more about this than she did.

  "My dad wouldn't have taken you on as a partner if you weren't a pretty good teacher, would he?"

  Daniel turned his head to look at her, his hand on the doorknob. "What?"

  "Your method of teaching isn't tossing someone into a river and seeing if they learn to swim before they drown, is it?" Her voice was high-pitched and her breathing had turned ragged at the edges.

  He winked, shocking her to her toenails. "Don't worry, Josette. I won't let you drown."

  She swallowed and tried to believe him. He pushed the heavy, ornate wooden door open and indicated she should go in first, but her legs refused to cooperate.

  His dark eyes narrowed. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes, but I can't seem to get my feet to move."

  "You're nervous."

  What had been his first clue? The way she equated making love for the first time with death by drowning, or the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look she knew was in her eyes? "I shouldn't be. I'm not a child."

  "But you are innocent."

  "Only physically." She'd heard and seen things women married for forty years would never experience.

  He shook his head, his mouth twitching at the corners. 'Tour heart and your mind are still very innocent, no matter what you think you know."

  "Oh really?"

  "Yes."

  That sparked another set of worries that kept her feet firmly glued to the floor outside their room. "Won't you be bored making love to me, seeing as how I don't know anything?"

  "Josette, I could spend the entire night just looking at you and not get bored." His tone wasn't reassuring so much as bewildered.