Riley noted that her eyes dulled at the memory; then she looked up and it vanished under the radiance of her smile. Riley wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything like what he saw in Hannah. It was as though the curtain to her soul had been drawn open and he’d been granted a rare privilege. In those few fleeting moments, Riley caught a glimpse of the core of goodness and gentleness of this woman who had so thoroughly captured his heart.
“Then Samuel was born, and Riley...I can’t even begin to explain how beautiful the experience was. He was squalling like an angry calf. Then Cheryl started crying and so did I, but not from pain. I felt so incredibly happy. I just couldn’t hold it inside me any longer. It was a contest to see which one of us could cry the loudest. I can just imagine what Dr. Underwood thought.”
“I wish I’d been with you.” It hurt to know his best friend’s wife had shared these moments with Hannah instead of him.
The sweetest smile touched her eyes. “I know. Next time we’ll try to plan the pregnancy so you can be with me.”
Next time. Riley’s heart came to a sudden standstill. He stood and walked over to the window, staring blindly at the street in front of their home. That Hannah would be willing to bear him another child, after everything she’d endured, wreaked havoc with his mind and his senses.
Considering her health, considering the pain she’d suffered delivering Sam, Riley found it incredible she’d even consider the possibility. As far as he was concerned, one pregnancy was enough. He didn’t know if his heart could withstand another.
Dinner was as delicious as the spicy aroma coming from the kitchen had promised. Riley enjoyed these uninterrupted moments with his wife, answering her questions, asking his own. It would forever remain one of the great mysteries of his life that someone like Hannah could be married to him, Riley mused as he stood an hour later, wanting to help her with the dishes.
He couldn’t stop studying Hannah, noting once more the subtle changes he found in her—the fullness of her beauty, the radiance of her goodness, the love for their son that shone so brilliantly in her dove-gray eyes each time she mentioned him.
As hard as he tried to turn his mind to other matters, it was difficult to forget the kisses they’d shared on Delta Pier. Her lips had been soft and sweet and so damn tempting. Even now, hours later, he had to regulate his breathing in order to restrain the mounting desire building within him. He felt the raw, hungry need eating away at him, and repeatedly cursed himself for his weakness.
Hannah set the last of their dishes in the dishwasher, then turned her back to the kitchen counter, her hands braced against the edge. Her elbows weren’t the only part of her anatomy that was extended. Riley’s stomach pitched unevenly at the way her pear-shaped breasts captured his attention. It was improbable, unlikely, but they seemed to be pouting, demanding his attention. It was all he could do to look elsewhere. Yet again and again, he found his eyes drawn back to her front.
“Did you really miss me?” she asked him softly.
“You know I did,” he answered gruffly, reaching for the dishrag so he could wipe off the stove. That was his first mistake in a series he was doomed to commit if he didn’t do something quick. As he extended his arm, his forearm inadvertently brushed against a hardening nipple. His breath caught in his throat. Riley felt as though he’d scorched his arm. He froze, his mission forgotten.
“You haven’t kissed me since we arrived home,” she whispered.
“I haven’t?” Riley was more aware of it than she knew.
“No. Don’t you think we should make up for lost time?”
“Ah...sure.”
He kissed her, licking his tongue across the seam of her lips, delving into the corners of her sweet mouth. He trembled then, trembled with a need so powerful his knees went weak; trembled with the shock of how painfully good she felt in his arms—in his life.
Hannah wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned in wanton welcome, opening to him. A better man might have been able to resist her, but not Riley. Not now. Not when he was starving for her touch.
“Oh...Riley, I’ve missed you so much,” Hannah moaned as if she were feeling everything he was. And more.
They kissed again, too hungry for each other to attempt restraint. Riley felt Hannah’s need. It shuddered through her, reaching him, touching him, continuing to transmit into his own body with devastating results.
He twisted his mouth away from hers, inhaled sharply and buried his face in her neck, praying to God for the strength to stop before he went too far. Before he’d reached the point of no return. Before the hungry ache of his need consumed what remained of his will.
“I think we should stop.” From where he found the strength to speak would forever remain an enigma to Riley.
“Stop?”
“It’s too soon,” he argued. He stepped away from her, his chest heaving with the effort. Every part of his body protested the action.
“Riley, love, don’t worry. I...talked to the doctor.” She blushed as she said it, and lowered her gaze. “It’s not too soon, I promise you.”
“I’d be more comfortable if we waited.”
“Waited? Really?” She sounded bitterly disappointed.
Hell, she didn’t know the half of it. “Just for a little while,” he promised, but he didn’t know whom he was speaking to—Hannah or himself.
“If you insist.” She bore the disappointment well, Riley decided. In fact she seemed downright cheerful about it, he reflected later that evening.
Humming softly, she gave Sam a bath, dressed him in his sleeper and nursed him once more. The need to be close to her was overpowering. Riley followed her around like a lost lamb, satisfied with tidbits of her attention.
“I think I’ll take a bath,” she announced a little while later, when she was assured Sam was sleeping peacefully.
Riley nodded, deciding to read the evening paper. He could hear the bathwater running and didn’t think much of it until the delicate scent of spring lavender wafted toward him. Lavender and wildflowers.
The fragrance swirled toward him with the seductive appeal of a snake charmer’s music. Hannah and wildflowers. The two were inseparable in his mind. During the endless, frustrating nights aboard the Atlantis, Riley had often dreamed of Hannah traipsing toward him in a field of blooming flowers, a wicker basket handle draped over her arm. It didn’t take much imagination to envision her in the picture she’d painted that hung above the fireplace.
“I’m tired. Let’s go to bed,” Hannah suggested softly. Riley looked up to discover her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, one arm raised above her head, leaning against the frame in a seductive pose. She wore a pale pink gown that clung to her breasts and hips like a second skin. Gone was Sam’s mother and in her stead was Riley’s wife: the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.
He swallowed tightly. She didn’t help his breathing any when she stepped over to the recliner and took his hand. The power to resist her escaped him, and Riley obediently rose out of the chair and followed her into the bedroom.
“I’m...not quite ready for bed yet.” He managed somehow to dredge up a token resistance.
“Yes, you are,” she returned without a pause. “We both are—if those kisses in the kitchen were any indication.”
“Ah...that was a mistake.” Riley had rarely felt more tongue-tied in his life.
Hannah’s sweet face clouded. “A mistake?”
“It’s too soon.... I think we should wait a few more months until you’re completely healed.” That sounded logical. Sensible, even. The type of thing any loving husband would say to his wife after the birth of a child.
“A few months?” Hannah repeated incredulously.
“At least that long.”
The air went still, so still it felt like the distinct calm before the storm. It was. Hannah bolted off the bed as though she’d
been burned. Stalking past him with a righteous flair of her hips, she stopped just the other side of the door, then slammed it hard enough to break the living-room windows.
He heard another door slam and then another, flinching with each discordant sound.
Riley closed his eyes, then buried his hands in his hair, uncertain what he should do. He could follow her and try to explain, but he didn’t know what he would say. He wasn’t rejecting her; he was protecting her.
* * *
Hannah was too angry, too hurt to stand by and do nothing. Slamming doors wasn’t helping, and if she didn’t stop soon, she’d wake Sam.
Riley was impossible. Just when she was convinced he truly loved her, he pulled this stunt. One rejection was bad enough. Twice was unforgivable. She’d leave him; that was what she’d do. But she had nowhere to go. Nowhere she wanted to go, she amended reluctantly.
She didn’t doubt Riley’s love. She’d seen the emotion in his eyes when he’d looked down on Sam for the first time. Surely she hadn’t misread him, and he held some tender spot in his heart for her, as well.
Quite simply, she decided, he just didn’t find her physically attractive. She might as well own up to the fact and learn to live with it. This was the second and last time she’d play the part of a fool. He’d trampled across her heart and her pride for the last time.
Dragging the bucket from the storage closet, she sniffled and reached for the mop. It was either vent this incredible frustration one way or cave into the deep, dry well of self-pity.
She mopped the kitchen floor with a vengeance, rubbing the mop over the already spotless floor as though it were caked with a thick layer of mud.
“Hannah.”
She jerked upright and swung the mop around with her. She held it out in front of her like a knight’s swift sword, intending to defend her honor. “Stay away from me, Riley Murdock.”
“I think we should talk.”
She brandished the mop beneath his nose in a warning gesture. Water drenched the front of his shirt, and a shocked look came into his eyes. “You can forget that. I’m through with...talking.” She hated the way her voice cracked. Riley seemed to find it a sign of weakness and advanced toward her. Once again Hannah swung the mop around, determined to deter him. “You’ve already said everything I care to hear,” she informed him primly. “I got your message loud and clear. First thing in the morning, I’ll move my things into Sam’s bedroom.”
“Why would you do that?” he demanded, his temper rising. He attempted to grab hold of the mop, but she experienced a small sense of triumph by eluding his grasp.
“Why?” she repeated with a harsh laugh. “I refuse to sleep with a man who finds me so unattractive.” Just admitting as much hurt almost more than she could bear. Tears filled her vision until Riley’s image blurred and swam before her.
“It’s not you who’s lacking,” Riley explained. “It’s me.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment,” she countered sharply, struggling to hold back the emotion. “I don’t ‘turn you on.’ Isn’t that what people say nowadays?”
“Don’t turn me on? Are you nuts?”
“Apparently so.” She jabbed the mop into the bucket with enough force to slosh the water over the sides. Without bothering to drain off the excess liquid, she slopped it onto the floor. “You must find my attempts to lure you into bed downright hilarious.” She gave a short laugh, as if she, too, found them amusing.
“Hannah, for the love of heaven, will you listen to me?”
“No...just leave me alone.” She raised the mop threateningly in an effort to persuade him she meant business.
“Put that thing down before you hurt yourself,” he demanded with a growl.
“Make me.” Hannah couldn’t believe she’d said anything so childish. Riley had driven her lower than she’d ever thought she would sink.
Riley shook his head as if he, too, couldn’t believe she’d challenge him in such a juvenile manner. When she least expected it, his hand shot out and he jerked the mop free of her grasp and hurled it to the floor.
Hannah was too stunned to react. She backed against the kitchen counter, feeling very much like a small, cornered animal, left defenseless and alone. She’d never felt more isolated in her life. Not even when she’d first realized she was pregnant with Riley’s child.
“I’m not good enough for you,” he admitted in an emotion-riddled breath. “Don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t,” she cried.
“Loving you isn’t right.”
Hannah glared at him with all the frustration pent up in her heart and then hurled the wet dishrag at him, hitting him in the shoulder. The damp cloth stuck there as if glued into place.
“It’s a fine time to tell me that!” she shouted. “What am I supposed to tell Sam? That he was a terrible mistake and you rue the day you ever met his mother?”
“Of course not. Hannah, please, try to understand. By everything that’s right, you should be married to Jerry Sanders.”
“Is that a fact? What would you like me to do about it? Tell God he made a mistake so he can send Jerry back for a wedding?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Me?” she countered with a short hysterical laugh. “You’re so eager to be rid of me, you’re willing to pawn me off on a dead man.”
Riley closed his eyes. “I’ve never known you to be so unreasonable. Think about it for a minute, would you?”
“Think about what? That you don’t want me? How will that help matters any? Answer me one thing,” she demanded between tears of rage and tears of pain. “Do you regret being married to me?”
An eternity passed before he answered. When he did, she had to strain to hear him. “Yes, but not for the reasons you think.”
It would have pained her less had he stabbed her through with a knife. The fight drained out of her, and she dropped her hands lifelessly to her sides. All the weeks and months she’d loved him, cherished each precious moment they were together, treasured the tenderness and the caring. All along, it had been a lie. “I see.”
“I’m a bastard!” Riley shouted. “I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. If I’d looked at a girl like you when I was in high school, I would have been arrested. The fact we’re married is a crime. You could have had any man you wanted, and frankly, sweetheart, you could do a hell of a lot better than me.” He paused and seemed to wait for his words to sink in. “There are others out there like Jerry. Good, honest men. You should be married to one of them. Not me.”
“You seem to be forgetting one minor detail,” she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “I’m already married to you.”
The tortured look Riley wore suggested he didn’t need to be reminded. “If I didn’t love you so damn much, I would have released you from our vows.”
“You want to prove your love for me by abandoning me?” The very idea was too ludicrous to consider.
“Our marriage can’t be annulled any longer,” he admitted with a pained look. “I ruined any chance of that the night we made love.”
“Ruined it... You mean you were honestly considering doing such a thing?” Hannah was too furious to think. She glanced around, ready to hurl the first available object she could find directly at her husband. His thinking was so twisted. He left her defenseless and more outraged than she could ever remember being in her life.
Moving quickly, Riley stepped forward and caught her in his arms. The tears he saw in her eyes appeared to distress him, and frowning, he brushed them aside. Closing her eyes, Hannah jerked her face away. She struggled, but Riley wouldn’t release her and she soon gave up the effort.
“I love you so damn much,” he confessed.
Hannah was about to argue with him when he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her, not bothering to hide the desperation and the pa
in of his confession.
For the first time, Hannah was able to put aside the rejection of the pain and understand everything Riley had been saying to her. He did love her—more than she dared credit, more than she dared to dream, enough to do what he felt was right and good where she and Sam were concerned.
Her hands found his face, and she slanted her mouth over his, opening to him. Again and again Riley kissed her, and she kissed him until she felt feverish with need.
“Oh, God, Hannah,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “You make me crazy.”
“I know,” she murmured, raining nibbled kisses along the underside of his jaw. “I’ve been listening to crazy talk from you for the last several minutes, and I refuse to hear any more.”
“Hannah, for the love of God...”
She silenced him the most effective way she knew how. “My turn,” she said, holding him against her, wondering if any man could ever make her want him as much as she did him.
She led him into the living room and lowered him into the recliner. Once he was seated, she settled on his lap, to be sure she could intercept his arguments before they had time to form.
“You’re right. Jerry Sanders was a special man. I loved him—he’ll always hold a special place in my heart. But that in no way discounts my love for you.”
Riley’s eyes widened, and it looked as though he intended to argue with her, but she pressed her mouth on his, teased apart his lips with her tongue and then made a lightning-quick strike before abruptly ending the kiss. Riley was left panting and helpless, just the way Hannah meant to keep him until he listened to reason.
“You’re my husband. The love I feel for you and Sam is so powerful it sometimes overwhelms me. I never knew a person could hold so much love inside. It overflows sometimes, and all I can do is sit and weep and thank God for sending you into my life.”
Navy Families Page 21
