To the Limit

by Virginia Kelly

  "What stopped you?"

  He looked at her. "I couldn't risk your life. Then, when I went in, there was one instant, a single moment when I could have done it, but you were there. If I had missed…"

  She reached out and took his hand. "Then I'm glad you made the choice you made."

  He shook his head. "You don't understand. He had you. He would kill you, given that he had a better reason for doing that than keeping you alive. And he was right, you know. Fear stopped me. I was afraid you would die."

  She wouldn't read more into those words, wouldn't interpret them to mean he cared for her that much. He wouldn't want anyone to die.

  "You made the right choice," she repeated.

  "You can say that now, but what if he'd shot you?"

  "He didn't. He made some choices too. I think he might have made them before he jumped."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think he knew he couldn't get away. That it was hopeless. He meant what he said, that it would have been easier for him if you had killed him. But I also believe he didn't think you would. And that he was glad of it."

  "That's where you're wrong. He only admired strength."

  "In the end, he saw that your conscience, the way you live your life, is your strength."

  "Don't give him credit for anything. The man was a monster, Mary Beth," he said, defeat in his voice.

  Suddenly she understood why he hadn't told her.

  "You're nothing like him."

  "I have the ability to kill a man with a single shot at a thousand yards. I'm even better than he was."

  "But you chose to make a life outside of that ability. You chose something at the opposite end of death. You chose hope."

  "It's his blood that flows through me."

  "But it's Dona Elena who molded you."

  The words hung in the silence around them.

  "Are you willing to take a chance that I'm not like him?" he asked so quietly that Mary Beth had to strain to hear him.

  "I won't be taking a chance. He would not acknowledge his own son, yet you have claimed your brother's as your own. You are nothing like him. You're Nicholas Romero." She'd been afraid from the moment she realized that she had fallen in love with him, afraid because it was such a risk on her part. But in reality it wasn't. "You're the man I love."

  That stopped him. Very gently he reached out and cupped her cheek. "I'm obstinate, very hardheaded. When I make up my mind—" He laughed a genuine laugh, running his hand over the tangled mess of her hair and down to her cheek again. "I am no different than you. You are the most determined person I have ever met."

  She smiled. It felt so good to smile. She put her hand over his on her cheek. "We will have to compromise, agree on some things."

  "I love you, Mary Beth."

  He said the words with such conviction, tears stung her eyes.

  "We agree to love each other. No compromises with that. Ever. All else is negotiable." He took her hand and kissed the back. "But," he said, his eyes dark, "the truth can never come out."

  "I understand."

  He clasped her hand tightly. "Be sure, niña. My life and my name are a lie, but they are what I am."

  "No." She shook her head, her voice trembling. "Your life has made you into a man who is honest and good."

  The blue of his eyes bored into her. "I may never tell Alex the truth. He may forever believe he is a Romero."

  She thought about that. Thought what the truth could do to the child, to the man he would become. "You will decide. You and Laura."

  "You are sure?"

  "Yes." She understood the need for these secrets.

  He kissed her, a sweet gentle kiss that had her hugging him tightly. But when he pulled away, there was more than gentleness in his expression.

  "Did you sleep? Are you tired?"

  She laughed. "I'm not that tired."

  "Mary Beth Williams, I love you," he said with a smile that lit up his face. "I can show you." He glanced around the room, his gaze resting on the bed before he pulled her close.

  "You think?" she teased.

  "I'm sure I can manage some demonstration of my devotion." But instead of taking her to bed, he pulled her into his lap as he sat down on a nearby upholstered chair.

  She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I was hoping for a bit more than this."

  Drawing her face down to his, he kissed her, his mouth open and hot. He felt so good, so strong. So right. He lifted the back of her nightshirt and ran his hands up and down her back. She tried to get closer, wanting, needing him. But he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against her, his breathing fast.

  "Why are you stopping?" she asked.

  He laughed, hugging her close. "Because I want it all." He released her, urging her to sit straighter and look down at him. When she did, he asked, "Will you marry me? Will you have my children?"

  Without hesitation, with love and trust in her heart, she said, "Yes," and leaned down to kiss him.

  Several intense moments later, Nick had managed to strip her of her nightshirt.

  Then she remembered something. Something she'd forgotten to mention. Against his lips, she asked, "How do you feel about the possibility of children in pairs?"

  "Pairs?" He blinked, his eyes heavy with passion. "I don't—" He stopped himself. "When is your birthday?"

  She told him, wondering if he'd remember when she'd told him the date of Mark's birthday.

  "That's your brother's birthday," he said.

  "I'm eleven minutes older," she bragged, as she always had.

  "Dios mío. Twins."

  She smiled tentatively, worried. "Is that so awful?"

  He began laughing, his eyes alive with light and joy. "Not awful at all, querida. Perfect. They can come in threes. We can handle anything together."

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