Morgan's Wife

by Lindsay McKenna

  Giving him a quick, nervous glance, she reveled in the shadowed contours of his strong face. How desperately she wanted to explore it, to explore him. But there was no hope for them, she reminded herself for what felt like the millionth time.

  Jim smiled warmly at Pepper, reading a mix of fear and confusion in her darkened eyes. They made it to the parking lot. The only two cars in it were parked side by side. “I can’t think of a better place to be right now,” he said. Pepper drove a Jeep, he noted, smiling to himself. The vehicle was obviously old, with a lot of dents and in need of a paint job. He had no doubts that on her days off, she blazed trails in the wilderness of the Montana Rockies, hence the less than mint condition of her intrepid vehicle.

  Pepper dug into her knapsack for her keys. Her fingers were trembling—Jim’s unsettling effect on her. She saw that his rental car was new and fairly clean, considering he’d driven from Anaconda. It made her wince at her beloved Jeep, which looked like a nag next to the thoroughbred of a car he had rented. Oh, well. He might as well know the real her. Why? The word haunted her. Turning at the door to her Jeep, she said, “There’s a diner in town. It isn’t much to look at, sort of like my Jeep here, but it serves great home-cooked food. Mandy, the owner, makes the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted. It’s even better than my mom’s, and hers is great.”

  Jim said, “Sold. I’m a sucker for a home-cooked meal.”

  “Spoken like a true military type. Home-cookin’ is hard to get a hold of in the service.”

  Jim fished the keys from his pocket, momentarily lost in the laughter he saw flash in Pepper’s eyes. How desperately he wanted to know this. Pepper, so comfortable in these giant mountains in their winter raiment and this sleepy town nestled deep in the valley.

  “Just follow me. It isn’t far,” she called, sliding onto the cold seat of her Jeep.

  Jim liked the old diner. It was straight out of the Depression era, with a mustard yellow interior, its chrome tables topped by red Formica. The place was filled at this time of night, mostly with locals who had been out getting firewood, hunters and townspeople. He noticed a Non Smoking sign on the door, and praised the owner for her courage in putting it up. Inside, he saw many Pendleton coats, red-and-black checked flannel shirts, knit caps and jeans.

  As they walked down the aisle between the booths, Pepper was greeted warmly by the locals. There was no question that she was well liked, Jim thought, as he ambled behind her. Noticing the way just about every head in the place followed them to a corner booth, he smiled to himself. By the way he was dressed and his unfamiliar face, they all knew he was an outsider.

  Sitting down across from Pepper, he murmured wryly, “Nothing like sticking out like a sore thumb, eh?”

  She shed her coat, cap and gloves. “Don’t take it personally. Usually, by this time of year, the tourists have left, and it’s just us locals. When we see a dude from the East come in, it’s a novelty, that’s all.”

  The waitress, dressed in a white uniform with a black apron, smiled as she handed them menus and automatically filled their cups with coffee.

  Pepper saw the look on Jim’s face. “Around here, real men and women drink coffee.”

  “I see.” He met her gaze which alternated between warmth one moment and wariness the next. “I’d really get talked about if I ordered hot tea with lemon, wouldn’t I?”

  She laughed heartily, holding his gaze. How wonderful his sense of humor was. Pepper realized how much she didn’t know about Jim—and how much she wanted to know. Joy flowed through her, hot and sweet. Did she dare hope? Dare dream?

  “You’re really funny.”

  “Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jim took a sip of coffee. “Whew, this is strong stuff.”

  Pepper said, “We have a saying about Mandy’s coffee—actually, I guess it’s a military saying. ‘If you put a spoon in the center of the mug, it will stand at attention and salute you back.’”

  “That’s powerful coffee,” Jim agreed, amused. Pepper’s eyes cleared of wariness and her cheeks once again blossomed with their familiar pink, making her look excruciatingly lovely. He had to force himself to stop staring into her sky blue eyes. Did she realize how beautiful she was? How he wanted to tell her exactly that! Even more, he wanted to show her. The waitress returned, and Pepper ordered without even looking at the menu, so Jim surmised she was a regular here. He chose a T-bone steak with all the trimmings.

  Trying to quell her nervousness, Pepper cleared her dry throat and asked, “How long will you be here?”

  Jim became serious, his smile dissolving. He felt renewed tension radiating from Pepper, and he lifted his heavy white coffee mug in both hands. The old jukebox in the corner was playing a romantic song from the sixties, a slow song—one of his favorites. “Well, I got an open-ended return ticket.” His throat ached with tension.

  “Oh.”

  He looked up through his lashes. “Really, it depends upon you.”

  Pepper sat very still. Her heart pulsed powerfully. “With Christmas coming, I imagine you’ll want to be home,” she murmured nervously.

  Shrugging, Jim said, “Home is where the heart is.” He looked around the diner and then back at her, his expression growing tender. “I know you go home for Christmas to visit your folks.”

  “Yes…” Pepper stared down at her coffee mug, her hands clasped in her lap beneath the table. She began perspiring as her mind leapt to a number of responses, none of them seeming appropriate. Out of sheer desperation, she whispered, “The roses you sent were beautiful, Jim. I didn’t really thank you for them.”

  He smiled tentatively, watching her closely. “I wanted to let you know, in some way, how I felt about you. About us…” Pepper, he was discovering, wouldn’t look him in the eye when she was nervous. Instead, she stared down or past him. This woman warrior, who had more courage and guts than most of the men he knew, was wonderfully vulnerable in a way that made him want to protect her. There was nothing hard or implacable about Pepper. She was right—she had clung to her femininity and not allowed the male world to strip her of it, as it had so many other women who’d been in the military. Suddenly the love he held for her seemed so incalculably deep and moving that he knew he’d never be able to put it into words. He could only show her—if she would allow him that privilege.

  Pepper sat very still, absorbing the huskiness of Jim’s voice, the seeming sincerity behind his words. This was not the place, with all the locals who knew her around, to start a highly emotional, personal conversation with Jim. It would have to wait, she realized sadly. When they were done with dinner, she would suggest they go back to her office and talk. It was all they had left between them, she realized lamely. Honest talk. Forcing a pain-filled smile, she made herself look at him. Inevitably, her heart melted, and a little more of her fear with it. Jim’s gaze was so direct—fearlessly burning with a warmth that left her breathless and feeling incredibly beautiful.

  “I—they were nice. I mean, they were more than nice. I was so surprised,” she stammered, opening her hands. “That was only the third time in my life I ever got roses, and I’ve never gotten that many.” She touched her brow and smiled apologetically. “They really were beautiful, Jim. I was just overwhelmed by them, by your gesture.”

  “I hoped,” he said in a low voice, leaning slightly forward, “that it would act as a door to forgiveness.”

  Tilting her head, Pepper said, “Forgiveness?” She shrugged. “What do you mean?”

  “In my letter,” Jim said, holding her startled look, “I said how I’d neglected you when we got off the island. Looking back on it, Pepper, I realize I really screwed up. I was overly focused on Laura and her problems.”

  Shaking her head, Pepper whispered, “Listen, Laura stopped breathing. I’d say you should be concerned. I know I was. I felt helpless. It was a terrible feeling to be sitting on the deck of that chopper, knowing I couldn’t do a thing.” Frustration ate at her. “I’ve done CPR before, and I k
new how you were feeling. Laura means…a lot to you. I know that.” Without thinking, she reached out and briefly touched the hand wrapped around his coffee cup. “And I don’t blame you, Jim. Even if you didn’t know Laura, you’d probably have reacted the same way. I’m aware of how deeply you care for people.”

  Pepper was internally aghast that she’d touched Jim, and she quickly withdrew her hand. What on earth was she thinking? Right now she was reacting without thinking—the worst possible thing she could do. Not only that, but in touching him she’d discovered, to her dismay, that she only wanted to touch him more. She wanted to lay her hand on his arm, slide it up beneath the sleeve of his shirt and feel the wiry quality of his dark, springy hair. Wanted to feel the latent strength of his muscles leap and harden beneath her exploration.

  The briefest touch of her hand sent a tingle of need flying through Jim, igniting the fire deep within him to a flame that burned with a powerful hunger he couldn’t fulfill except with Pepper. “A fault of mine at times,” he murmured wryly, holding her warm gaze.

  Pepper’s fingertips still tingled from her imprudent touch. How strong Jim was, in ways she presently was not. “Never a fault,” she rattled, her emotions very close to the surface. “There aren’t a whole lot of people out there who take commitment for what it really means anymore—for sticking with a person through thick and thin.” With a shake of her head, she rasped, “No, I like your loyalty to people. Your commitment to them, no matter what.”

  “I wanted to get out here to see you much sooner,” Jim admitted, “but I couldn’t. Part of it was that Laura needed me, and I was damn well determined to hunt down some or the rest of her family before I left Washington.”

  “I would have expected nothing less of you, Jim. In some ways, we’re alike,” she murmured as the waitress brought their salads and a small loaf of hot bread. Pepper was absolutely not hungry for the usually appetizing food. The only hunger she had was for Jim—to love him, hold him and become one with him. Forcing her mind away from her unruly yearning, she whispered unsteadily, “People count with me. I want to make a difference in their lives as much as I do in my own.”

  “It’s called unselfishness—a commodity too long lost in our society, particularly in the past decade,” he said wryly. Jim didn’t want to eat; he wanted to talk, to explore Pepper—to spend the rest of his life discovering all her wonderful facets. But he forced himself to pick at the salad, occasionally glancing at her. Pepper wasn’t eating very much, either, and he struggled to contain his impatience. Timing was everything. He would have to wait until later.

  Chapter Twelve

  After dinner, Jim knew it was time to get down to serious business with Pepper. Now or never, he thought. Neither of them had eaten very much. As they approached Pepper’s Jeep, he reached out, wrapping his fingers around her arm and gently drawing her to a halt. She turned, startled, her eyes searching his.

  “We need some privacy so we can have a talk, Pepper.”

  Gulping, Pepper was wildly aware of his monitored strength on her arm. He was so close—inches away. His breath came out in white wisps as he spoke in a low tone to her. The shadows and light carved his face, accenting its strength as well as its tenderness, from the way the corners of his mouth were flexed to the burning quality in the depth of his serious eyes.

  “Okay,” she said, a little breathless. “How about my office?” That was safe, neutral territory, she thought.

  Jim forced himself to withdraw his hand from her arm. “How about your home, if that’s okay with you?” He didn’t want to risk interruption once they started to discuss everything. Her silence told him a great deal. She didn’t want him there.

  Pepper’s pulse was fluttering wildly at Jim’s softly spoken request. The desire to reach up and slide her arms around his shoulders, to melt against him and feel that strong mouth on her own was nearly her undoing. Home. Her home. Her empty, lifeless home, where she’d felt so alone since returning from the mission. Her hands fluttering over the knapsack as she dug for her keys, she said, “Just follow me. It isn’t far from town.”

  Jim nodded. He ached to touch her fiery red cheek, to smooth a strand of precocious hair away from her brow. Pepper was shaken by his request, he could see. But no more shaken than he was by fear over what was to come.

  Pepper’s cabin was warm, the fire in the stove sending an orangy glow through the living room. Jim fought himself—his need to reach out and touch Pepper. They had gone directly from the garage into the warmth of her living quarters. Pepper stood apart from him, nervously tugging the knit cap off her glorious hair, which tumbled in a shiny cascade about her tense features. Her hands were trembling, he noticed. As she tried to undo the buttons on her coat, his mouth went dry.

  “Here, let me help…” he murmured thickly, stepping forward, his hands closing over hers.

  Pepper gasped at his sudden, unexpected move. Jim’s hands were strong, warm and cherishing on her cold ones. Her head snapped up. Her heart slammed into her ribs. Lost in the darkness of his predatory gaze, she parted her lips breathlessly beneath his tense, silent scrutiny. In less than a heartbeat, she whispered his name. It came out broken, pleading. The look in his eyes changed, grew narrower. Intent.

  Without thinking, throwing all caution to the wind, Pepper raised her hands and settled them about his strong shoulders. Instantly, she felt Jim’s arms wrap about her like tight bands, drawing her hard against him. The air rushed out of her lungs. She tipped her chin upward. He called her name—a low growl that jagged through her like lightning. His mouth claimed hers hotly, conquering her weak protest. The taste of him, the power of him combined to overwhelm her as she opened her lips farther to drink deeply of his offering. Time dissolved and only his sandpapery skin against her cheek, his mouth taking hers, his ragged breath against her face existed.

  Pepper’s hands ranged awkwardly across his jacket, finding the opening and moving up across his shirt. She felt the immense breadth of his chest, his muscles bunching and tightening under the skimming touch of her eager, exploring hands. Sagging against him, she returned the raw desire of his mouth against hers, tasting him, sliding her tongue across his. Unable to get enough of him, she pushed the leather jacket off his shoulders, vaguely hearing it drop to the cedar floor at their feet. His hand moved downward, pinning her hips against him in a grinding motion meant to convey his need of her. Instantly, heat exploded within her, and her knees weakened as his fingers curved over her, capturing her even more tightly against him.

  Jim tore his mouth from hers. Nothing mattered but now. Right now. To hell with all the reasons—the barriers that stood in their way. This was real. This was what they both needed. Wanted. His arms tightly holding, he lifted her effortlessly. Looking around, he spotted a hallway and carried her down it until he found her bedroom.

  Fragments of light stole into the darkened expanse. It was enough. He took her quickly to the bed and laid her on it, continuing to undress her. Off came her coat, which dropped to the floor beside the old brass bed frame. The sultry look in Pepper’s half-closed eyes told him everything he needed to know. Thinking was no longer possible. Driven by something so primal he could no longer control it or himself, he tugged impatiently at the buttons on her blouse until it opened to reveal the pale pink silk of her bra. His eyes narrowed upon her breasts, which were rising and falling in ragged timing with his own harsh breathing. As Pepper’s hands moved upward, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, Jim growled. He was more animal than man—and more ravenous than he’d ever been.

  Each heartbeat, each touch burned like a brand through Pepper’s skin as Jim’s hands ranged up and down her rib cage. His mouth claimed hers again, and she took his weight as her slacks and panties were pushed aside. Each movement of his mouth drove her deeper and deeper into the fire. The agony in her lower body was like a conflagration. As his fingers tunneled through her hair, her hands slid down to his pants, tugging and pulling at his belt.

  Jim froze
as Pepper’s hand brushed his hardness, his zipper opening easily beneath her trembling fingers. Moving to one side, he pushed his chinos off along with his shorts. He soared inwardly at the sensuous look in her eyes. Never had two people been so meant for each other, he realized as he leaned down, again capturing her soft, glistening mouth.

  As he eased down upon her, she arched her hips upward. Air hissed between Jim’s clenched teeth as she brazenly brushed against his hardness. She was like velvet, giving and teasing. He slid one hand beneath her hips and felt her breath hitch as he eased his knee between her strong thighs. The look in her eyes was molten, expectant. Her lips parted in a silent welcome. There was such overwhelming urgency that he couldn’t wait. Wouldn’t wait. Neither would she. Just as he tried to counter the flowing forces careening through him, to ease into her, she thrust upward, taking him, consuming him.

  A startled cry of joy burst from Pepper’s lips as she felt him plunge into her, filling her. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes, his name an answered prayer on her lips. Unable to catch her breath, she felt his hand center on her lower back, bring her up hard against him as he rocked deeply into her. A rippling, melting sensation emanated from her core outward. She was dissolving beneath his capturing motion. Each movement was unrelenting, deeper and more consuming than the last. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers opening and closing spasmodically against his skin. The sense of oneness, of flesh meeting and being forged in the fire of something overwhelmingly beautiful and cleansing, tunneled through her. Each rocking movement brought her higher and higher, closer and closer to that ragged cliff of unequaled sensation. As he molded his mouth to her, drinking of her, the movement of his hips thrusting against her triggered an avalanche of molten lava pulsing through her lower body. Her lashes dropped and she surrendered fully to his hands, his mouth, his exquisite body fused with hers, and an intense pleasure swirled through her.