PAROLED!

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  Cait knew enough about human nature to know that not even the world's best actor could fake the quick rush of color from his face. Or the sudden blank look of shock in his eyes.

  "You said it wasn't a problem."

  "It isn't. And I'm not pregnant, damn it. I won't ever be unless you stop standing up there on all that pride and take me home."

  Not even the sudden narrowing of his gaze could hide the emotion blazing from them. "Don't I have any say in this?"

  "Some, but remember, I'm not getting any younger, and neither are you. Also, Kelsey really needs a brother or sister to keep her from becoming impossibly spoiled."

  He stared at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Don't look so stricken, Tyler," she said with a soft laugh. "This is the nineties. Single women propose to reluctant lovers all the time."

  It seemed an eternity before he moved. When he did, it was to haul her against him. His mouth crashed down on hers, branding her with a wild sweet pleasure so powerful it bordered on pain.

  His good hand flattened against her cheek, and she felt the wild, surging rhythm of his heartbeat through the toughened skin of his palm. Her own pulse was speeding in perfect time with the racing blood heating her own skin.

  "Is that a yes?" she asked in a shaken tone.

  "It sure as hell is," he grated. "And don't think you can change your mind, because as soon as I can get permission from my new PO, we're getting married." He glared at her as though he expected her to refuse.

  "Okay, but I'll need time to get a knockout dress, and one for Kelsey, too, of course."

  Blood was pounding in his head, making his need for her damn near unmanageable. "The day after I get the permission, no later."

  "Then there's the cake and flowers and a minister. Hazel has to be there, of course. And Jess. I suppose you'll want him for your best man."

  "Cait." His voice broke on her name.

  She placed both hands on his chest and felt his heart sprinting beneath her palms. "Remember when you gave me the first wishing candle and you asked me what I wished for?"

  He didn't answer, but she saw his eyes begin to smolder. "It's the same thing I wished for this Christmas. Would you like to know what it is?"

  "I'm afraid to."

  He dragged her hands from his chest and trapped them between his. The edge of his cast cut into her palm, but she didn't mind a bit. His expression was a mix of sheer masculine shock and volatile desire.

  "Well, if you'd rather not know—"

  "Tell me," he ordered, "before I go stark, staring mad."

  Cait smiled. "Happily ever after."

  He scowled. "What?"

  "My wish. I wished for happily ever after for us. You and me together. For always."

  Tyler couldn't remember how her arms got around his neck or how her mouth got so close to his. It seemed that she was determined to push her way into his life, no matter how many problems he might cause for her.

  "You are going to make my wish come true, aren't you, Tyler?" she asked against his lips.

  In answer his mouth moved on hers, hot and heavy, but his tongue made love to her with surprising restraint, far more arousing than the most urgent invasion.

  "I love you, Cait," he murmured as he concentrated on her lips, her throat, the soft skin in the vee of her collar. "I love you so much. Even when I was hating you, I loved you."

  "Oh, Tyler," she whispered. "I'm so happy I could burst."

  His mouth was on hers again, feverish with need. He felt her give against him, but only so far. Her hands roamed his face, gentle yet sure. He felt something warm inside him.

  "Ahem. Excuse me, folks."

  Locked together, both Cait and Tyler started in surprise at the sound of the Latin-flavored voice. It was the guard she had seen earlier with Tyler. Now he stood a few feet away, the shackles and handcuffs that had confined Tyler now dangling from his hands.

  "C'mon, McClane. Tell her you'll make her damn wish come true, whatever it is, so I can get you checked out of here before quitting time."

  Tyler turned to look at her, an expression of deep love softening his eyes to a rare and beautiful topaz.

  "You heard the man."

  "Hmm," she whispered adoringly. "Are you going to do what he says?"

  His smile started in his eyes first, then spread to his beautiful, not-so-hard mouth.

  "A wish for always?" he mused. "I guess I can handle that."

  * * *

  Epilogue

  « ^

  "Daddy, c'mon," Kelsey called impatiently from the doorway of the master bedroom.

  "Just a minute, baby," Tyler muttered around the ribbon caught between his teeth.

  "Mama says you'd better get your fanny downstairs right now or you'll be in bad trouble."

  Tyler tugged the ribbon from his mouth and wrapped it one-handedly around the soft foam football. With the other, he tried to hold the wrapping paper snug against the points, but the paper still looked lumpy.

  "Hand me some more tape, will you, baby?"

  "It's already covered with it. Besides, Jesse won't notice. All he wants to do is chew on the paper anyway."

  "He's teething."

  "He's been teething since he was three months old. Every toy he owns has little teeth marks all over it."

  Tyler stepped back. "You're right," he said with a grin. Deftly he scooped up the lumpy football and tossed it to her.

  Kelsey caught it expertly, the way he'd taught her to do, and grinned. Arm in arm, they hurried down the stairs.

  Cait was waiting at the bottom with a mulish look on her face. "You said five minutes, Tyler. It's been twenty."

  Kelsey gave her daddy an I-told-you-so look and headed for the dining room, where Dante and Hazel, the baby's godparents, were trying to outdo each other seeing who could get the biggest belly laugh from one-year-old Jesse Fielding McClane.

  "Sorry, sweetheart," Tyler murmured, trying to look suitably chastened, even as he pulled her into his arms.

  "You don't look sorry," Cait murmured as she slid her arms around his neck.

  "No?" He raised one silver eyebrow.

  "No. You look just the way you always look when you're about to talk me into going upstairs and locking the bedroom door."

  "Sounds like a damn fine idea to me." His grin came easily now, like a sudden burst of sunlight in a dreary day. Sometimes she deliberately teased him, just to see it flash.

  "Tyler, stop that. We have guests."

  "So?" The thought of stripping her out of her slacks and silky shirt was damn near irresistible. Even after twenty months of marriage, he still got as shaky as a teenager whenever he thought of making love to her.

  "So you'll have to wait," she murmured, but her belly rubbed enticingly against the arousal she could feel beginning to throb behind the fabric of his trousers.

  "Keep that up, wife, and you'll be upstairs so fast you won't have time to yell for help."

  Cait's blood heated at the thought. When Tyler was in one of his playful moods, she could deny him nothing. Not that she wanted to, she realized, raising her mouth for the kiss she knew he intended to give her.

  His mouth was warm and possessive, and his hands roamed freely, even though they were standing in the foyer in full view of anyone who might wander through.

  Her own hands played with his thick hair. Worn shorter now, it was still soft to the touch and very sexy when her hands were finished disheveling it.

  Tyler was breathing hard when he ended the kiss. "Fifteen minutes," he whispered against her throat. "One of those quickies you like so much."

  "Me?" His mouth was now busy exploring her throat.

  "Hmm. Remember how it was after Jess was born? You were after me at the oddest times, and then, when I finally gave in, you were always in a hurry."

  Tyler raised his head to look at her. Even when he was teasing her, he always seemed to be loving her with his eyes.

  "That's because your son kept me so busy I didn't have time for
those long lingering sessions you like so much."

  "Ah, the good old days," he murmured.

  Cait hit him on the shoulder. "Behave yourself, buster."

  "Yes, ma'am." His expression sobered, and Cait wondered if he was thinking about the years he'd spent taking orders. Even now, he sometimes woke sweating and shaking from a nightmare he would never reveal.

  She made her smile gentle as she went on tiptoe to kiss him out of his sudden dark mood. She'd done that a lot at first, especially in the weeks right before the trial, when all three of them were tense and worried.

  The fire in his eyes was hot, but his smile was boyishly crooked as he pulled a small package out of his pocket and handed it to her. "For you, wife."

  "What's this?"

  "It's a present, what's it look like?"

  Cait shook the small box neatly wrapped in silver. "It looks expensive, that's what it looks like," she chided gently.

  Tyler leaned lazily against the newel post and watched her tear into the wrapping with the excitement of a child. He never got tired of watching her. Sometimes at night he lay awake for hours, holding her close and watching her face as she slept.

  "Oh, Tyler," she whispered as she drew the dainty, exquisitely designed pendant of shimmering silver from its nest of velvet. "Another wishing candle."

  "I know it's not Christmas, but what the heck." He took the pendant from her hand. "Turn around," he ordered gruffly.

  Cait obeyed, dropping her head and lifting the thick fall of her hair out of the way at the same time. Tyler looped the chain around her neck and fastened it, but before he let her go, he bent to brush a reverent kiss over the silky skin beneath the silver.

  Moisture stung his eyes, and he closed them against the sudden need to tell her how precious she was to him. Ever so gently, he turned her around and kissed her. Her mouth yielded, soft and enticing as always, and a shuddering feeling of thankfulness rushed through him.

  "Thank you for giving me another child to love," he said with a slight tremor in his voice. "And for giving me back my faith."

  Cait's smile wobbled. He was so dear to her, her sometimes moody, sometimes difficult husband. "Thank you for exactly the same things."

  He cleared his throat. "I guess we'd better join the others before Jesse gets chocolate icing all over your precious needlepoint chairs."

  "The little dickens," she murmured with a tender look. "He's got a lot of his father in him."

  "And a lot of his mother, especially when he doesn't get his own way."

  "I'm not spoiled," she muttered mutinously. "And you know it."

  "Mmm, seems to me I'm the one who's always giving in when we argue."

  "That's because you can't wait to get me into bed so we can make up."

  He grinned. "That's true." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Wanna have a quick battle?"

  Cait's giggle was cut off by the swift descent of his mouth. His hands combed through her hair. His body rubbed against hers, heavy with the need to fill her. Moaning sweetly, Cait clung to him, testing his resolve.

  "Sweetheart," he rasped with a groan, "if you don't stop—"

  His words were halted by an insistent beeping coming from the tiny receiver clipped to his belt.

  "Not again," Cait murmured as he muted the sound. "That's the third time this week."

  "That's what you get for being married to a doctor," he teased, but his expression was suddenly strained. "Cait, if it really bothers you, I could cut down on my hours at the clinic. There's another doc coming in part-time and—"

  Cait laid a gentle hand on the mouth that was so rarely hard now. "I'm just kidding, darling. I know you have to go, just as you know the kids and I will be here when you get back."

  Tyler's chest rose and fell in an effort to contain the emotion building in him. "I love you, Caitie McClane," he whispered. "So much. I can't make it without you." His fingers were achingly gentle as they traced the sweep of her cheek.

  "You're my life, you and the kids. No matter what happens from now on, nothing will ever be as important to me as that."

  Cait's brimming eyes told him that she understood. With a groan, he lowered his head and kissed her one more time.

  She would be waiting for him when he got back, no matter how late. His wife, who loved him just as he was. His wife, who had taught him about happily-ever-after. The wife he'd wished for every Christmas since he'd first met her.

  * * * * *