Passion and Peril: Scenes of PassionScenes of Peril

by Suzanne Brockmann

  It didn’t matter how many times they practiced it, Matt still left her breathless. God, she missed him.

  Rhonda, the accompanist, started to play, and Maggie tried to focus on the song. It was a plaintive ballad, in which Lucy, after becoming engaged to Cody’s rival, wonders why she’s feeling so miserable when she should be happy. Maggie didn’t have any problem calling up feelings of misery this evening.

  Please, God, let Matt and me have a happy ending.

  Finally, quietly, the song ended, and Maggie closed her eyes, following Dan’s blocking.

  “Lucy, are you still awake?”

  That voice was unmistakable, and Maggie’s heart leaped as she snapped her head up.

  Matt stood on the other side of the stage, wearing his familiar blue jeans and high-voltage white T-shirt. His face looked tired and maybe a little pale, but he was smiling at her.

  “Matt!”

  Two long strides brought him toward her, even as she launched herself at him. His arms went around her, and then she was kissing him—hungrily, breathlessly, impatiently, thankfully.

  She pulled back to look up into his eyes.

  He’d cut his hair. It was short—similar to the way he’d worn it in high school. She tried to swallow her fear as she wondered if he’d cut his hair because it hadn’t worked as a good-luck charm.

  “I’m okay,” he told her. “Maggie, I’m clean. The cancer hasn’t come back.”

  The rush of relief was so intense that she swayed. He held her tightly, kissing her again.

  “Uh, people.” Dan’s voice penetrated Maggie’s euphoria. “This little reunion is deeply moving, but it’s not getting us any further along here. Do you mind sticking to what’s in the book?”

  Still holding Maggie close, Matt looked out at the director. “Please, can we take ten?”

  “You’ve already taken five,” Dan said grumpily. “We’ve got a scheduled break coming up in about twenty minutes. Let’s keep it going.”

  “There’s so much I want to say to you,” Matt whispered to Maggie. He gave her one more kiss before crossing back to his mark on the other side of the stage.

  They ran through their lines almost automatically as Maggie kept her eyes on Matt. She was afraid to blink, afraid he’d vanish as quickly as he’d appeared.

  His hairstyle brought out the exotic planes and angles of his face. He was more handsome than ever. And as he turned his back to her slightly, she saw that he’d only cut the top and sides of his hair. The back was still long, pulled into a ponytail at his nape. He could stick it under a shirt and no one would ever know he had hair halfway down his back.

  “And you’re wondering what it would feel like,” Matt was saying, “if you brought your lips up, like this...” He moved her face up toward him, and Maggie caught her breath at the love she saw in Matt’s eyes.

  He didn’t say anything for several long moments. She could feel his heart beating against hers, he was holding her so tightly.

  “Oh, Christ.” Dan’s voice echoed in the room. “Line! Somebody give him his line!”

  “And if I brought my lips down, like this...” Dolores prompted from the edge of the stage.

  But Matt didn’t seem to hear. “Maggie,” he said, his voice husky. “Will you marry me?”

  She caught her breath. Marry him. As in forever. As in the rest of his life. As in, he now believed his life would last long enough for him to share it with her.

  Joy and relief flooded through her. There was nothing Matt could have done to convince her more that he believed his cancer was truly gone.

  And as for marrying him...

  “Yes.”

  With a shout of laughter, Matt kissed her.

  The cast broke into a round of applause.

  “Oh, Lord,” Dan’s bored voice cut over the clapping. “I guess we’d better take a break.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “STEVIE’S LATE,” MAGGIE said.

  “No, he’s not,” Matt said calmly. “We’re early.”

  “Aren’t you even the tiniest bit nervous?” she asked him. This still seemed unreal. They’d applied for the marriage license, waited the short time it took to get it processed and now here they were, standing in a church, about to get...

  Married.

  Matt smiled down at her. “No.”

  With her hair piled up on top of her head, dressed simply in a white sundress, Maggie was the most beautiful bride he’d ever seen in his life. No, he wasn’t nervous. Thankful, happy, joyous, excited— Yes, he was all those things, but not nervous.

  When he’d been in the hospital, when no one would give him a good answer as to why he needed more and more extensive tests, he’d been so sure his luck had run out.

  Then, finally, he’d gotten a straight answer from his puzzled doctor. He was not only clean, but a precancerous condition in his lungs had vanished. No one could figure out what had happened. And the doctors hadn’t told him earlier because they hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up—they’d needed to be sure that somehow the tests hadn’t been botched, that the results hadn’t been switched with that of another patient’s.

  Especially since they’d been so sure this time last year that he wasn’t going to survive. Yet there he was, passing all the tests with flying colors, in apparent good health.

  For now, at least.

  Matt didn’t know if “for now” was to last five years, ten years or one hundred years, but he did know that he wanted to spend every moment of his life with Maggie.

  No, he wasn’t nervous.

  But Maggie was.

  “Are you really sure you want to do this?” she asked. “It’s so...permanent. And sudden.”

  “Mags, I’ve loved you for over a dozen years,” he reminded her. “It’s not sudden. But it’s definitely permanent.” He laced their fingers together. “You’re my best friend,” he told her. “And the love of my life.” He had to smile at himself. “That sounds so corny, but...”

  “It’s not,” she said. Her eyes were luminous. God, she was beautiful.

  “I know,” he said, and kissed her.

  “Yo, aren’t you supposed to wait until after the vows for that monkey business?” Stevie interrupted them.

  “You’ve got to work on your timing,” Matt told him with a grin.

  “Oh, great elder ones,” Stevie said, bowing with a flourish. “Allow me to humbly introduce my friend Danielle Trent.”

  This was the girl who was providing Steve with so many sleepless nights. Tall and slim with short blond curls, her face wasn’t really so much pretty as it was friendly, with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were lovely, though—an odd shade of violet with thick, dark lashes. She underwent their scrutiny solemnly, then exchanged a look with Stevie and smiled. Her smile transformed her face, and she became suddenly, freshly beautiful. Matt found himself liking the girl instantly.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” Danielle said. “When Stevie asked me to come to your wedding, I couldn’t resist. I hope it’s really okay.”

  “Of course it is,” Maggie said.

  “Actually, you’re a vital part of the action,” Matt told her. “We can’t get married without you—we need two witnesses.”

  “You are eighteen, right?” Maggie asked.

  “Just,” the girl said.

  “Excellent,” Matt said.

  The pastor of the church came in through a heavy set of double doors. He shook hands with all four of them, his round face beaming. “I haven’t done a small wedding like this in years,” he said as he led them to the front of the church. “We’ll go through the vows and exchange rings here in the sanctuary. Then you can all come back to my office and we’ll do the paperwork.”

  “Rings,” Maggie said i
n dismay. “I knew we forgot something!”

  But Matt held out his hand and Stevie dropped a blue velvet jewelry case into his palm. “I took care of it,” he told her. “The rings aren’t sized or engraved, but I figured we could use them temporarily.”

  Maggie gazed at Matt, realizing again how much he had changed from the reckless boy she’d known in high school. He stood there, tall and strong and calmly in control, and she knew without a doubt that agreeing to marry him had been the smartest decision she’d ever made in her life.

  “Ready?” the minister asked with a smile.

  Maggie looked into Matt’s eyes and smiled. Yes, she was ready.

  Their gaze held as the man began to speak, talking of love, of commitment, of trees growing stronger with their roots entwined.

  Then he turned to Matt and began the vows.

  Matt didn’t look away from Maggie once as he repeated the words that would bind them together. His voice rang out clear and true in the empty church, echoing among the beams and rafters of the high ceiling. There was not even the slightest trace of doubt on his face, nor the slightest glimmer of uncertainty in his voice.

  Matt slipped the ring, a plain gold band, onto her finger and smiled at her, adding his own ad-lib to the well-known lines. “I promise I’ll love you forever, Maggie.”

  Forever.

  The word had special meaning to them, since they both knew well that Matt’s forever might not be as long as most. Maggie felt tears spring into her eyes, but she smiled up at him.

  Her own voice trembled a little as she pledged and promised herself to Matt. She pushed his ring onto his finger, then held tightly to his hand. “I promise I’ll love you forever, Matt,” she added, too.

  “I pronounce you man and wife.” The minister smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Matt leaned down and brushed her lips with his, then wrapped his arms around her as he kissed her more thoroughly.

  “You’re mine now,” Matt whispered to her. “You are mine.”

  He picked her up and twirled her around, laughing, right there in the front of the church. “All right!” his joyous shout echoed.

  Stevie looked at the smiling minister, one eyebrow raised. “I dunno,” he said. “I think he kind of likes her.”

  * * *

  MAGGIE STIRRED AND slowly opened her eyes to see Matt smiling down at her.

  The silvery light of dawn was streaming in the windows of the tower room. Maggie caught her breath as she saw, once again, the hundreds and hundreds of roses that sat in vases on every available surface. Those roses were the reason Stevie and Danielle had been late to the church. But they’d done a wonderful job. The flowers had given the room a fairy-tale-like quality by candlelight, a quality that survived in the pale light of the morning sun. Even after two days, the room looked gorgeous, and the scent of the roses perfumed the breeze that wafted in through the open windows.

  “What time is it?” she asked Matt, lazily stretching her arms above her head.

  “Almost six.”

  “How long have you been awake?” she asked, snuggling against him.

  “A little while.”

  Maggie gave him a look. “What, only two hours or only four hours?”

  He shrugged, smiling.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you got out of bed when you can’t sleep.”

  “I know,” Matt said. “But I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to be here. With you.”

  “Do you just lie awake and think?” she asked, feeling the familiar rush of desire as her legs intertwined with his.

  “Sometimes,” he said. “I like to spend some time every day centering myself—you know, keeping my perspective about what’s a big problem and what’s a little inconvenience. Actually, much earlier this morning, I went downstairs and got my briefcase. I was reading about the great controversy between using foil bags or plastic to package the chips.”

  He rolled his eyes and Maggie laughed.

  “After we win this inheritance thing,” Matt said, pulling her closer and running his hands down her body, “let’s give the plant manager a big fat raise and tell him to hold down the fort while we go on a honeymoon to some exotic, tropical paradise where we can run naked on the beach.”

  He kissed her, and she could feel him, heavy and hot against her.

  “Or maybe Europe,” he said, his voice soft, hypnotizing. “I’ve always wanted to go to Europe. How about you, Maggie Stone?”

  Maggie Stone. She sighed with pleasure as he—

  The telephone rang shrilly, and she jumped, then caught Matt’s arm. “Don’t answer it. Please? Let the answering machine pick it up.”

  Matt looked at her. “Who don’t you want to talk to?” She kissed him, trying to distract him again, but he pulled back. “Who else would be calling at six in the morning? Angie, right?”

  Maggie sighed.

  Matt laughed. “Mags, there’s no way Angie could have found out we got married on Friday. Steve and Danielle swore they wouldn’t tell anyone and—”

  “My mother thinks we’ve been married for almost two months now,” Maggie said. “It’s something she would mention if Angie called, looking for me.”

  “Maybe Angie knows, maybe she doesn’t.” Matt studied her face. “I think you should call her and tell her about us. Then you can stop feeling guilty.”

  “I don’t feel guilty.” Her voice rose with indignation.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Look at you—you’ve got guilt written all over your face.” Matt grinned. “You can’t feel guilty about going to bed with me anymore because we’re married. We’re supposed to be doing this.”

  Maggie closed her eyes with a sigh of pleasure as Matt’s hands and mouth continued to roam.

  “Call her, Mags,” he said. “Today.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Promise?”

  She opened her eyes, looking down at him. “No fair. I’d promise you anything right now.”

  He smiled and kissed her again. “Then maybe this is a good time for us to talk about that invitation we have to dinner at your parents’ house this afternoon.”

  “Oh, no,” she said faintly. “Do we have to go?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “We can use the opportunity to tell them we’re married. Of course, we’ll probably have to show your father our marriage certificate as proof.”

  “You mean the new, unlaminated one?” Maggie said.

  Matt laughed and kissed her, and they both stopped talking, for a little while at least.

  * * *

  “HELLO?” ANGIE PICKED up the phone on the second ring.

  “Hey, Ange.” Maggie’s stomach churned with dread. Whoever called this morning hadn’t left a message on the machine, but deep down she knew it had been Angie. Somehow her friend had tracked her down. “It’s me.”

  “Maggie.” Angie’s voice was cool, with a distance that had nothing to do with the fact that she was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. “’Bout time I heard from you. How’s Matt?”

  “Funny you should ask—”

  “You know, I always thought you were the smartest person I knew, because out of all my friends, you were the only one who never let Matt get to you. Damn, Mags, what are you thinking? Living with him? You know, your mother told me you’re married, but I knew you wouldn’t be that stupid—”

  “Angie—”

  “Or even that naive to think Matt would ever commit to marriage. The man is a snake, Mags. He may be handsome, he might be good in bed but you cannot trust him. He’ll promise you the moon, then he’ll walk away and find somebody else.”

  “No, Angie—”

  “He lies. He’s a liar and a cheat— He doesn’t have a soul. I sw
ear, Maggie, get out before it’s too late—”

  “Stop! Angie, just stop,” Maggie shouted into the phone.

  She could hear her friend breathing hard on the other end of the line. Her own voice shook as she started to speak, so she cleared her throat and started again. “I don’t know what he did to you,” she said quietly, “but he’s never been anything but kind and honest to me.”

  “Oh, please—”

  “Stop talking,” Maggie said forcefully. “For once in your life, be quiet and listen to me.”

  Silence.

  “I love him.”

  Silence.

  “And two days ago, I did marry him.”

  “What? Oh, God, you idiot—”

  “He’s good and kind and funny and smart, and I’m crazy about him,” Maggie spoke right over her.

  “I thought you were in love with that jungle man from the health club.”

  “Matt is the jungle man. I didn’t recognize him at first.”

  “Oh, come on! You didn’t recognize him? God, I should have told you to marry Brock. I don’t know why Matt’s married you, but he must have some ulterior motive.”

  “Gee, thanks a million.” Maggie’s voice shook with indignation. “Like what? Tell me what on earth his motive for marrying me could possibly be!”

  “I don’t know—”

  “How about because he loves me? How’s that for an ulterior motive?”

  “No,” Angie said. “Matt doesn’t know how to love. You’re just a prize.”

  “What?”

  “A prize. You’re something he always wanted but couldn’t have. Now he’s the winner. Except now that he’s married to you, every other woman on the planet is something he can’t have. How long ’til he goes after some other prize? One month or two?”

  “No.” Maggie gripped the telephone so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. “He loves me, Angie. He’s my husband now, whether you like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it. Damn you, Maggie—how could you do this to me?”

  “To you? What is your problem? You sound jealous, like you’re still in love with him. Is that what this is about? You’re angry because I got what you couldn’t have?”