by Linda Turner
She hung up without wishing him a safe trip, her thoughts in a turmoil as they jumped right back to Nick. The FBI. He was moving to Virginia to become an FBI agent, she thought numbly. She should have been happy for him. The Bureau's reputation may have taken a few hits over the last few years, but it was still one of the top law enforcement agencies in the world. Nick had to be thrilled. And who wouldn't be? Only the best were accepted into the Bureau's elite ranks.
And Nick was the best. Why had it taken her so long to realize just how special he was? She'd only just recently started seeing him for the man he really was, and now she was losing him. Just like she'd lost Thomas.
No, she thought, correcting herself. The pain she'd felt when Thomas had humiliated her in front of the entire town was nothing, nothing, compared to what she felt now. She was devastated. And furious. She'd stood by and let Thomas walk out on her and that turned out to be the best thing she could have ever done. Although she hadn't realized it at the time, marriage between the two of them would have never worked. She accepted that now. But her feelings for Nick were so much deeper and more complicated than anything she'd ever felt for Thomas. He was her best friend, her confidant, her lover. He'd become so special to her, and now she was going to lose him? She didn't think so!
Steaming mad, she completely forgot about the salad she'd been making when Sonny called and read the letter from the Bureau over again, instead. But she didn't like its contents any more the second time than she had the first, and almost threw it in the trash. It wasn't hers to throw away, however, and with a muttered oath, she tossed it back down on the table.
"Mmm! That pizza smells good," Nick said as he stepped into the kitchen with a broad smile creasing his face. "When do we eat?"
Angry words already building up on her tongue, she whirled on him … and temporarily forgetting what she was going to say. No man had a right to clean up so well, she fumed. Dressed in jeans and a blue and white T-shirt, he'd shaved and washed his hair, and even from where she stood across the room, Merry could smell the tantalizing scent of his cologne. It was, she silently acknowledged, a scent that was far too tempting for her current peace of mind.
Irritated that she'd even noticed, she glared at him. "To be perfectly honest, I've lost my appetite. Why didn't you tell me you were still pursuing the job with the FBI?"
His eyes immediately flew to the mail on the table and the letter that lay in clear view on top. Swearing under his breath, he took a step toward her. "Look, I was going to tell you, but I forgot about it myself until today—"
She snorted in disbelief. "You forgot that you applied with the FBI?"
"No, of course not," he retorted. "It just slipped my mind. There's been a lot going on, and I really didn't expect to get accepted."
She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't forget Thomas, couldn't forget the way he'd walked out on her without a word of warning. "So when were you going to tell me you were leaving? Or were you? Thomas didn't."
"Is that what this is about?" he asked sharply. "Thomas? I told you before, Mer, don't compare me to him. I'm nothing like him."
He was right. It wasn't fair of her to lump him in the same category as Thomas. They were two different men and just because Thomas had betrayed her didn't necessarily mean that Nick would, too. "No, you're not," she agreed quietly. "You're ten times the man he is. I'm just hurt. I won't lose you the way I did him. I won't go through that again."
His brows snapping together in a scowl, Nick didn't like the direction the conversation was going one little bit. "What do you mean … you won't go through that again?" he demanded. "If you're saying you don't want me to leave just because everyone knows we've been seeing each other and you don't want to be humiliated in front of the whole town again, you'd better know right now that's not good enough. I need a hell of a better reason than that to stay."
Stunned, she blinked at him in confusion. "Humiliated? What are you talking about? You think I don't want you to leave because people will talk?"
"What else am I supposed to think? You just said that you wouldn't lose me the way you lost Thomas, that you wouldn't go through that again."
Stunned that he would misunderstand her so completely, she cried, "But I wasn't talking about being stood up at the altar! Granted, that's not something I would wish on anyone, but in my case, it was a blessing in disguise. I would never regret that."
"Then what are you so bent out of shape about?" he said, frowning. "I don't understand."
"It's you," she replied. "I don't want to lose you. That's why I was so shook up when I saw that damn letter. I couldn't bear the thought of losing someone I loved a second time."
Something flared in his eyes at that, something that set her heart thumping in her breast. And just that quickly, she realized that in her rush to make him understand that she refused to let him walk out on her, she hadn't said the one thing that needed to be said above all others.
"I love you." The words came so easily, as if they'd always been there, right on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be said. All this time, she'd loved him, she thought, stunned. And she'd never even suspected it.
Tears glistening in her eyes, her throat tight with emotion, she stepped toward him, reaching for him, needing the strength of his arms around her. "I love you," she said again. "and I'm not going to lose you. If you're going to Virginia, so am I."
She couldn't have surprised him more if she'd stripped naked and run right through the middle of the town square. "But everything you love is here … your family, the ranch, your work."
She couldn't deny it—he knew her too well. "I'll come home and visit the family when I can, but I'm going with you…" Suddenly realizing that she may have misinterpreted his intentions, she broke off in chagrin. Unsure of herself, she said stiffly, "I'm sorry. I'm jumping to conclusions here, aren't I? I assumed that you would want me to go with you. You did ask me to marry you. But maybe you've changed your mind…"
"Don't be ridiculous," he growled, and pulled her into his arms.
She loved him! Over and over again, the words echoed in his head like a song, until he could have shouted with joy. He wanted to ask her when, how, for how long, but he couldn't stop kissing her. Not now. Not when he had her in his arms, next to his heart, and she'd finally said the words. Nothing else mattered but that. Just the two of them, together at last.
Laughing, she struggled to get her breath as he suddenly swept her up in his arms and started for his bedroom. "Nick! Wait! The pizza—"
"To hell with the pizza," he muttered against her mouth, and retraced his steps into the kitchen to turn off the oven. Seconds later, supper forgotten, he strode into his bedroom with her still in his arms and did a free fall with her onto the bed.
"Nick!"
"Merry!" he mimicked, chuckling as he rolled across the mattress with her and stopped when she came up on top. "Tell me again."
She didn't have to ask what he meant—she knew. She needed to say it as much as he needed to hear it. Her smile turning soft and tender, she stared down into his beloved face and saw him, really saw him, for the first time. Fascinated, she traced the manly slant of his dark brows, the straight line of his nose, the sensuous, inviting curve of his mouth, and all she could think of was that he was hers. Forever. Because if she knew anything about Nick Kincaid, it was that when he gave his love, it was forever.
"I love you." The words came straight from her soul. "More than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone—including Thomas. I know I probably shouldn't bring up his name at a time like this, but we can't pretend that he was never a part of my life. I did have feelings for him, and for a long time, I thought those feelings were love. But the difference between what I felt for him and what I feel for you is like day and night. I just needed you to know that."
But telling him and showing him were two different things, and showing was so much more enjoyable. With a murmur of need, she leaned down to kiss him, and all she could think of was how easil
y she could have lost him if fate hadn't stepped in and taken a hand. If Thomas hadn't chickened out at their wedding, if two of Nick's deputies hadn't quit, making it impossible for him to leave town to find another job when he'd wanted to, she wouldn't even have known that he loved her, let alone had the chance to fall in love with him herself
So close, she thought, shaken. She didn't want to ever come that close to losing him again. "I need you, Nick," she whispered huskily in his ear. "More than I thought I could need anyone. Don't ever leave me."
"Never," he promised in a rough growl, burying his hands in her hair to pull her down for a fierce kiss. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere without you."
Reassured, that was all she needed to hear. Her heart expanding with love, she gave herself up to his kiss and the longing that had settled like an ache deep inside her. Her hands rushed over him, claiming him, savoring the feel of his lean, hard body, and with every touch, her mind silently shouted, "Mine."
Hot pleasure rippling through him, Nick groaned and told himself he was going to take charge of their loving any second now. Well, maybe in another hour or two. After he'd stood the bliss as long as he could. In the meantime, he'd just lay there and let the lady do whatever made her happy. After all, she seemed so bent on having her way with him. He wouldn't want to disappoint her.
But he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought he was, not when it came to Merry. Her smile teasing and seductive, she stripped him out of his clothes before he knew what she was about, then shed her own. Between one heartbeat and the next, bare skin rubbed against bare skin and he was hot and hard and desperate for her. Growling low in his throat, he rolled her under him, settled between her thighs, and slid into her with an ease that rocked them both.
In the sudden, hushed silence of the darkened bedroom, their eyes met in a silent communication that was nearly Nick's undoing. If she hadn't told him that she loved him before that moment, he would have known it then. It was there shining in her eyes for all the world to see—love, tenderness, happiness, desire—in a wild mix of exhilarating emotions that went as deep as her soul. And in that instant, Nick knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that any feelings she'd once had for Thomas had faded into oblivion and were gone forever. He was the one she loved, the one she wanted to be with, the one she intended to spend her life with.
Impossibly moved, he leaned down and brushed her lips with his. Once, twice, in a caress as soft as a feather floating on a summer breeze, he kissed her, convinced he needed nothing more from her at that moment than just that.
Then she moved.
It was just a slight movement, a tiny adjustment of her hips that might not have even been noticed—if it hadn't brought him deeper inside her. His breath hissed between his teeth, her eyes darkened with desire, and suddenly the fire that always seemed to spark between them lately was hot and intense and seemed to singe the very air they breathed.
"Do that again," he rasped. "I dare you."
The youngest of four children, she wasn't one to refuse a dare. Especially one that could only bring them both a great deal of pleasure. Her smile slow and sultry, she sensuously tightened her muscles around him—and just that easily, almost made him whimper in delight.
"Uncle! Aunt! Great Grandma Sally Ann!" he groaned in defeat as he fought the need to move himself. "I surrender, sweetheart. You win! Stop before you push me over the edge."
That, however, was exactly what she wanted, and she had no intention of stopping. "Make me," she said huskily, and lifted her hips invitingly to his.
She set a rhythm that he found impossible to resist, teasing him with the seductive dance of her hips, stroking him slowly, intimately, until he thought he would die from the pleasure of it. Need fisted inside him, heat licking at his nerve endings. Unable to bear the sensual torment a second longer, he drove deep, up to the hilt, and nearly shattered them both.
"Nick!"
"I know, honey," he groaned, loving the feel of her, hot and moist, around him. "It feels good, doesn't it?"
It felt wonderful! Caught up in the magic of it, they surged together, increasing the pace, instinctively knowing what the other needed without saying a word. A tender touch, a lingering kiss, a murmured endearment whispered in the night, and two hearts beat as one.
Enchanted, Merry could have stayed just that way, with him buried deep inside her, their bodies moving to a throbbing beat as old as time itself, for the rest of the night. But her heart was already thundering, desire clawing at her, tearing at her until she could focus on nothing but the ache of it. Then Nick, sensing her need, kissed his way up the side of her neck, using lips and teeth and tongue to tease the sensitive spot right below her ear, and her breath caught on a sob as her body suddenly tightened in response. Clinging to him, to the moment, she tried to draw it out, but it was too late. Capturing her hips in his hands, he changed the angle of their union just a fraction, and she felt his touch all the way to her heart. Lightning flared in her blood like liquid gold, and in the next instant, his name a cry on her lips, she shattered.
"Nick!"
Never had he heard her call his name in just that way, with such love, as if he was all she'd ever wanted or needed. Just that simply, she destroyed him. His breath tearing through his lungs, the roar of his blood loud in his ears, he surged into her, his hips pumping madly. Release was, he knew, just out of his reach in the darkness. Then, with no warning, he was on it in a rush. Before he could do anything but groan, it took him like a storm, swallowing him whole, consuming him. And for the first time in his life, he discovered the true meaning of ecstasy.
* * *
Later, Merry couldn't have said how long they lay there in each others arms, savoring the touch and feel and wonder of each other and the intimacy of what they had just shared. It could have been minutes, hours, days. Time had no meaning, no place. It was just the two of them, alone, together in bed. More content than she'd ever been in her life, she couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather be.
"I was serious when I said I would go with you to Virginia," she said quietly. "Nothing is more important to me than being with you. You know that, don't you? I love you."
"And I love you," he replied huskily, tightening his arms around her. "Which is why I'm not going anywhere."
Surprised, she pulled back just enough so that she could see his face in the light that filtered down the hall from the living room into his bedroom. "You're not taking the job with the Bureau? Why not? If it's because of me—"
"It's because of us," he cut in, shushing her. "This is where we belong, sweetheart. Where we've always belonged. I admit that working in D.C. sounded like something out of a dream, but that's not really who I am. I like being a small-town sheriff and knowing everyone in town. I want us to live here, raise our kids here…"
Her heart turning over in her breast, Merry arched a brow at him. "And what kids would that be?"
"The ones that we're going to have after we're married," he replied without batting an eye. "You are going to marry me, aren't you?"
He asked in an almost casual way, as if it was an afterthought and her answer a given, but he didn't fool Merry for a second. She felt the sudden tension in the arms that cradled her close, and under the hand she rested on his chest, his heartbeat was anything but steady. He was all but holding his breath, and, no doubt, expected her to turn him down like she had before.
Tenderness flooding her, she stretched up and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. "Yes, I'll marry you," she said huskily.
"In church?"
Somehow, deep inside, she'd known that's what he would want … a church wedding in front of the whole town. Just like the wedding she'd planned with Thomas. Just thinking about putting herself through that again sent dread spilling into her stomach. How could she set herself up for that kind of disaster a second time?
"Oh, God, I don't know. Nick, please—"
"It won't be like before," he assured her. "I'm not Thomas. I know what I want—I've always k
nown what I wanted. You, sweetheart. Just you. So when I tell you you can count on me to be waiting for you when you walk down that aisle, you know I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
There was no doubting his sincerity or the fact that he meant every word. Come rain or shine, hell or high water, sickness or anything else short of death, he would be there for her. She could count on him. All she had to do was trust him.
There'd been a time, just weeks ago, when she would have run at the very idea of trusting a man, any man, ever again. But that was when her heart was still battered and bruised and hurting. Now that she'd given herself time to heal, to feel again, to love, she knew she had nothing to fear. Not from Nick. Even when she'd been prepared to marry another man, he'd been there for her, thinking of her happiness before his own. He loved her. The last thing he would ever do was hurt her.
He was so special. And she'd almost missed him. Tears welling in her eyes at the thought, she blinked them hurriedly back before he could misunderstand and took his hand, linking his fingers with hers. "Yes, I'll marry you," she whispered huskily, the smile that spread across her face slow and beautiful and filled with love. "In church or the middle of Main Street
or on the town square if that's what you want. Just tell me the date and time, and I'll be there."
He didn't hesitate. "One month from today, your church, ten o'clock in the morning. How does that sound to you?"
"Perfect," she said, her eyes shining with love. "It looks like you've got yourself a deal, Sheriff Kincaid. Shall we shake on it?"
"I've got a better idea," he growled, and sealed the proposal with a kiss.
* * *
Chapter 12
«^
He gave her one month to plan a wedding. He refused to wait another second more than that to make her his wife. He'd already waited thirty-two years. That was his limit.
