Bridal Reconnaissance

by Lisa Childs

If Weering hadn’t attacked her.

  He shrugged. “We had a rocky marriage before you left, Amanda. You traveled with your father, and when you were back, I had obligations at work. And neither of us had very good examples of how marriages were supposed to work. My adoptive parents had a cold unemotional one. And your parents moved from one volatile relationship to the next. We were probably doomed from the start.”

  She nodded as her lips quirked into a smile. “But we still tried. Were we brave or just stupid?”

  He chuckled and honesty moved him to reply, “I think we were just in love.”

  “I did love you, Evan. I’m sure I did.”

  “That was a long time ago, Amanda. You were another woman, as you’ve pointed out.” But he loved them both—the woman she’d been then and the one she had become.

  She nodded, tears shimmering in her wide eyes. “I understand.”

  “What?”

  “That I’ve changed, physically as well as mentally.” She fingered a strand of her short hair. “I’m not that glamorous woman from your wedding album.”

  He crossed the few feet that separated them and lifted a hand to her cheek. “I told you last night how beautiful you are.”

  “Because you felt sorry for me.”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m sorry about what happened to you, yes. I wish I could take it all away—all these years…”

  Apart. He wished he could live them again together.

  “But you can’t. You’re a powerful man, Evan Quade, but you can’t change the past. No matter how badly you want to.”

  No matter how badly he wanted her.

  He jerked his hand away from her face.

  He couldn’t have her. Not now.

  “Evan, nothing can change the past. I doubt the future is within our control. The only thing we can affect is the present.” She reached out, sliding her palms up his bare chest. “Evan…”

  He knew he should back away, but he couldn’t rein in his desire for this woman. He gave into his urges and crushed her against his taut body, his arms shaking with the effort to remain gentle enough to not hurt her.

  “Amanda, I’m not the man you think I am.” Not the gentle lover he’d been the night before.

  She smiled. “Evan, I know who you are. It’s myself that I’d lost.”

  She rose up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. Her silky lips parted, the tip of her tongue teasing him. He deepened the kiss, but she pulled back and continued speaking.

  “But I found myself again, Evan. And I’m stronger now.” She rubbed against his bare chest and toyed with the strings of his flannel pajama bottoms. “You don’t need to be so gentle with me. I’m not going to break.”

  Not yet. But he worried that it wouldn’t take much.

  “Amanda…” If she pushed any further, his control would snap, the very reason he intended to let her go.

  “Evan, last night you treated me like I could break as easily as glass. You made love to me so tenderly. But tonight, tonight is for you.”

  Again his heart constricted with the fear that she was saying goodbye. Too soon. When she was in too much danger… It made no sense, so he shook off the crazy notion.

  But he couldn’t shake off the desire that consumed him. For her.

  “Amanda, it’s been a long draining day.”

  “You’re not interested?” For a moment self-doubt passed through her eyes. But then she tilted her hips against his, and a smile full of feminine power spread across her lips. “Oh, you’re interested.”

  A chuckle rumbled out of his chest along with shallow breaths. “Too interested.”

  She stepped back, that smile still lifting her lips and sparkling in her wide green eyes. “You’re that interested when I’m wearing this baggy old sweater?”

  Her fingers toyed with the frayed hem. “What if I took it off?” she offered seductively.

  He fisted his hands at his sides, refusing to reach for her. Refusing to help her remove it.

  Inch after inch of the satiny skin on her midriff was revealed as her hands lifted the wool. Then a lavender bra flashed into view, lovingly cupping her breasts except for the full curve that spilled over the top.

  “Amanda…” She was driving him crazy.

  She yanked the sweater over her head, letting it drop to the floor at her feet. Silky tendrils of dark blond hair stood out in sexy disarray.

  She already looked as if she’d rolled around with him in the sheets. Now he wanted to make it a reality. “Come here.” The order was emitted in a guttural groan. He had to have her.

  The smile playing around her lips, she shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  Then her fingers skimmed down from her throat, over the swell of her breast, across her midriff to the snap at the waistband of her jeans. With one tug, the snap gave and the jeans fell, revealing high-cut panties in lavender satin and shapely silky legs.

  He groaned. “Amanda, you’re killing me.”

  She giggled, obviously heady with her power over him. “No, I want to—” She cut herself off, face flushing with bright pink color. “I want to please you, Evan.”

  Had she been about to say love? While the thought should have worried him, it also, selfishly, pleased him. “Amanda, you’re going to push me too hard—”

  Her eyes widened, but not with fear. They filled with sexual curiosity. “And what will happen then?”

  Snap.

  His fingers delved into her hair, holding her head steady while he plundered her mouth, his tongue driving deep into her sweetness. And it wasn’t enough. As she gasped for breath, he slid his mouth down the arch of her throat, sucking on the pulse jumping wildly beneath the silken skin.

  His hands glided over the smoothness of her bare back, snapped the clasp on her bra and pulled her up, so that he could feast on her freed breasts. With the tip of his tongue, he laved the tip of each straining breast, tasting, flicking, teasing her until she squirmed and moaned in his arms.

  “Evan, please, this was supposed to be for you!”

  She had no idea the pleasure he found in just holding her. “It is, Amanda. It is.” The pleasure he found in giving her pleasure. Mindless pleasure.

  While he bent her back over his arm, ravaging her breast with his mouth, his fingers slipped beneath the lace band of her panties. He stroked through her curls with a light teasing touch.

  “Evan,” she panted his name on shallow rasping breaths. “I can’t—”

  “Can’t stand?” He carried her to the bed, laying her on the sheets already tangled from last night’s lovemaking.

  “Can’t let you do this!” She caught the waistband of his pajamas, dragging them down over his hips and the erection that ached for her.

  For her touch.

  For the possession of her sweet body.

  She slid a fingertip over the end of him, then licked the bead of anticipation from it. He groaned and stiffened his knees as they threatened to shake with need.

  Control. He had to find it.

  Amanda had all the control now—in her hands, in her sensuous smile—and she knew how to wield it. Her silken palms slid back and forth on the pulsing length of him, bringing him so close to ecstasy. Then her lips replaced her fingers, teasing along his flesh as her soft hair tickled his chest and abdomen.

  When her mouth closed over him, he could take no more. He pulled away, fighting the temptation to let her bring him to shuddering ecstasy. He wanted more. He wanted more for her.

  His hands, shaking with need, ripped the satin from her hips, and he pulled her up to the possession of his mouth. But he didn’t have to ready her. One touch and she exploded on his lips, writhing in his arms and demanding more.

  More.

  He rolled her over and slid inside her hot body, the pulsing of her muscles stroking him and bathing him in her pleasure as she moved beneath him. Her hips lifted from the bed and she pulled his mouth to her burgeoning breasts.

  He licked a
t the hard points and she exploded again. “Evan! God, Evan, I can’t take any more!”

  And neither could he. But still he drove into her, again and again, harder and harder. No gentleness. No tenderness. Just raw passion and need. And love.

  Love filled him, then he filled her. Crying out his pleasure into the arch of her neck, he felt her sob in his arms and shudder out the last of her ecstasy, trembling in the aftermath.

  “Amanda, are you all right? Did I hurt you?” He’d lost his mind with his control. He rolled onto his side, still pressed against her from hip to shoulder.

  The smile of feminine power curved her lips again. “I lied.”

  “What?”

  “That was for me, too.” Her breasts jiggled against him as she laughed.

  And he groaned at the spark of desire that ignited within him again. So soon.

  But it had been six long years without Amanda. He would never be able to get enough of her. How would he ever let her go? And his son?

  “Amanda, there’s something you should know,” he said after a moment.

  “Baring your soul now? I think I prefer just baring it.”

  He had to laugh at the resurgence of the old playful Amanda. “I guess you do. But there’s something you need to know. Something that will probably affect your wanting to be here.”

  “Here in your house? Or here in your bed?”

  He sighed heavily. “Probably both. I should have been honest with you.”

  He hadn’t wanted to scare her before. He had thought her mind too fragile and her spirit too broken to accept his biological past.

  “I thought you didn’t lie.”

  “I didn’t. I just didn’t tell you something you had a right to know.” He rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t look at her when he told her, didn’t want to see the revulsion she would probably feel. “When you left me…”

  “When you wanted a child.”

  He nodded. “You told me to seek out my biological parents, that they were the family I wanted. After you left, I took your advice. I found them.”

  “I know, Evan.”

  “You know about Lindsey. You met her and she’s wonderful. A pain in the ass sometimes, but wonderful—”

  “She told me about your parents, Evan,” Amanda interrupted. “She didn’t think you would.”

  He shot a glance over his shoulder, astonished that she had already known. “But you—”

  “Still wanted you tonight.”

  Tonight. Again that qualifier.

  “Even though I come from the same kind of man who’s stalking you, who hurt you?”

  “You didn’t hurt me, Evan.”

  “Not now. But who’s to say I won’t? That I won’t lose control like…he did? That I won’t hurt you then? I can’t take that chance, Amanda. And you shouldn’t take that chance, either. You’ve been hurt enough already.”

  Emotion shimmered in her eyes. “We’ve both been hurt, Evan. Too much.”

  And now she was going to hurt him again.

  AFTER EVAN HAD FALLEN ASLEEP, she took the cordless into the bathroom. As a precaution, she ran water while making her call. After several rings, D.A. Peter Sullivan groggily answered.

  “Did you find me a place to stay?”

  “Amanda, I was going to call you in the morning—”

  “There’s no time. I need a place now!” She had to leave before anyone else was hurt any more. She couldn’t risk Evan’s life to save some bruises to his pride.

  But what about his heart? Had she touched his as he’d touched hers? Touched? Hell, he’d stolen it. It was his, more irretrievably lost than her memory had ever been.

  “Amanda?”

  “I’m sorry.” She shook off the regrets. She couldn’t let them affect her, not if she wanted to save those she loved. “What did you find?”

  “I found you a safe place. I can take you there tomorrow.”

  “You can be here in the morning?”

  “It’s a few hours drive, Amanda—”

  “Ten. Be here right at ten. I’ll get you past the security.”

  “And your husband?”

  “He’ll be gone.” Her voice had become stronger during the conversation.

  “Amanda?”

  “What?” she asked at his dumbfounded tone.

  “Just checking. You don’t sound like yourself.”

  She suppressed a hysterical giggle. “I’m not. Right now I’m not sure who the hell I am. I just know I’m desperate to get out of here!”

  “And Christopher?”

  Even though it would kill her, “He’s not coming. I can’t risk his safety.”

  “It’s a really safe place, Amanda.”

  She doubted any place was safe from a madman who didn’t care who he killed. He’d mutilated a fisherman who had gotten in his way. What would he do to Evan or her son? She couldn’t take the chance of finding out.

  She let the next laugh, full of cynicism, slip out. “There’s no such thing.”

  Maybe in Evan’s strong arms. But what was safe for her was not for him.

  “Peter, just be here at ten. Please.”

  “Of course—”

  She cut the connection without listening to him offer what she was sure would have been hearty assurances. Hearty and empty. No one could protect her now but her.

  When the night was gone and morning came, she would be alone. Against Weering. How ironic that she now feared the light instead of the dark.

  SLEEP HAD PROVEN impossible. Knowing she was leaving him, she had needed to watch Evan sleep. Had watched every inhale and exhale, and even fingered the ring lying on his chest. She wanted to wear it again.

  But it was impossible. She had to leave.

  She rose from the bed and walked to where her son slept. Leaning against the doorjamb of Christopher’s room, she memorized every detail of his handsome little face. The curve of his rounded chin. The shadow of his thick lashes lying against his cheeks. His hair, so thick and black, like his father’s.

  He would be fine with Evan.

  What she had learned about Evan’s genes had no effect on what she thought of him as a man, as a husband, as a father. But would he believe that when she disappeared again? Would he realize that she wouldn’t have left Christopher with him if she didn’t trust him?

  Even without the full return of her memory, she had given him her trust.

  But memories had started to return. As she’d lain awake, images had played through her mind. A younger, more carefree Evan, smiling, laughing.

  Then more serious, teaching her karate maneuvers and crumpling to the floor to make love. Lots of the images had involved lovemaking.

  Overcome with his closeness but needing more, she’d awakened him with kisses and caresses, and in the dark, she’d moved over him, joining them together.

  “You’re awake early,” murmured a deep voice in her ear as firm lips nuzzled her neck.

  With a soft sigh, she leaned back into Evan’s bare chest. “Yes.”

  “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you slept much last night.” His arms wrapped around her waist, deepening their connection. “I don’t think I slept much last night. You were so…”

  She laughed softly. “Needy?”

  “…giving. So beautiful. Sweet Amanda…”

  “You never called me that before.” A certainty born of what she remembered from their past.

  “No, but it applies. You’re different now.”

  Not so different that she wasn’t about to leave him again. Memories of the first time she had left teased at the edge of her consciousness, but she forced them back. She knew other memories would return with them, memories of the attack. And those memories might prove so debilitating that she wouldn’t be able to follow through with her plan.

  She gestured to their son. “He’s bored.”

  “He’s sleeping. That’s usually not that exciting for me, either. Unless you’re in my bed…” His hand slid up, cupping
her breast through the soft flannel of his pajama shirt she had found and donned.

  She arched into his touch, wanting more. “Evan…he’ll be awake soon.”

  He groaned. “He will?”

  “Yes, and he needs to get out of this house. He needs some fresh air.”

  “I can take him down to the beach later today.”

  She shivered. “Too cold. Spring up here is ten degrees colder than River City, and it’s even colder next to the water. Isn’t there someplace else you two can go? Maybe you can take him to play with Jeremy?”

  He sighed. “Jeremy’s in school. And what do you mean, the two of us? What about you?”

  She forced a yawn as adrenaline hummed in her veins. “I’m tired. You kept me awake the last two nights. I need my rest.”

  His hand slid away. “I’m sorry, Amanda. You’re right. The doctor said—”

  She turned in his arms, pressing a finger against his lips, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. “Shh…I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

  “You can rest. Christopher and I can play inside like we did yesterday afternoon.”

  His concern strengthened her resolve. He was so caring, so generous; he didn’t deserve the trouble she’d brought into his life. “No, Evan, this house isn’t fit for a child. The railing on the catwalk isn’t that safe. And there aren’t many toys for him to play—”

  “His things?”

  “I’ve unpacked what I brought, which was little. I was in such a hurry to get away. Christopher is already suffering because of my fear. He needs to have a fun day.”

  “You can come along. We’ll up the security.”

  She shook her head, pushing away the temptation of his offer. “And what? Have Weering try to force us off the road with my son in the car? No. I can’t take that risk.”

  “Okay, we’ll go to Royce and Sarah’s. Maybe Royce has some information on those other cases we suspect can be linked to Weering. And Christopher can play with some of Jeremy’s old toys.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And you can rest. Security will be increased, and the phone’s been tapped.”

  A few hours later, just before ten, when she kissed them goodbye, she almost lost the strength she’d found in Evan’s arms. She’d fought back tears and waved them away.