His voice fell into a hushed void. When she finally spoke, she repeated the question almost whimsically. "Do I love you?" Her hands dropped to rest lightly on his shoulders.
"Because of you, I've learned a lot about myself," she told him very softly. "I need a man who feels the same way I do. A man who isn't afraid to let me know he's as vulnerable as I am. A man who loves the same way I do." She paused for the space of a heartbeat. "I need you, Matt. I want to share your life, have your children. And...and I love you more than I ever thought possible."
The world spun crazily. Matt's heart soared skyward. Then he pulled her to him fiercely.
She could only cling to him, caught up in the same battle to control the overwhelming intensity of emotion that consumed them both.
"Oh, Angie." Her name emerged as an uneven groan. "I think I knew it even before you did. But just so I know for sure—" he lifted his head tp look at her but didn't lessen his desperate embrace "—tell me once more."
Angie felt her heart burst with joy. Knowing that his pride had never meant less to him, aware that he didn't give a damn that she saw his tears, only made her love him all the more.
Her heart was so full she could hardly speak. Cradling his lean face in her hands, she somehow managed to force the sound past the lump in her throat. "I love you," she said in a voice that shook with emotion. "I love you."
Through laughter and tears, through hope and joy, over and over she told him of her love for him. She didn't stop until Matt captured her mouth firmly beneath his, trapping the sound in the back of his throat.
It was everything a kiss should be—tender, urgent, possessive and warm. Angie didn't realize Matt had carried her into the bedroom until she felt the mattress beneath her. Matt's body followed her down, and with an infinitely adoring touch, he began to undress her.
When she did the same for him, Matt felt his bloodstream explode. His pulse came quickly as her hands pushed him to his back, the touch gentle but firm with intent.
The golden web of her hair teased his skin before twin peaks of fire angled across his chest. Her lips hovered just above his as one slim thigh nested gently between his.
Matt tangled his fingers in her hair. "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" he asked teasingly, his eyes feasting on the soft curve of her mouth.
Her smile was bold and sensuous, faintly mysterious—the smile of a woman who knew all too well the effect she had on him. "Is it working?" she countered, raking a hand through the dark curls on his chest.
"Like a charm," he responded sultrily.
The next second Angie found their positions reversed. She was so startled that she stared up at him wide-eyed. Matt laughed at her surprise. Then his eyes dipped to her mouth and lingered there.
"I love you," he said, his tone very quiet. His mood had swung from teasing to one of the utmost seriousness.
Suddenly the world seemed to narrow into a dark velvet void where only the two of them existed. "And I love you," she whispered.
His mouth lowered as she raised hers. The contact was unhurried, tender but quickly became a fire flowing between them. The breath rushed forth from her lips to his, and his to hers. Desire, hot and urgent, tightened Matt's body with a full and aching need.
Angie felt the unhurried glide of his tongue tracing her lips before delving within, and she responded with a wanton artistry that delighted them both.
"Oh, Matt," she breathed, trailing her fingers along the steely hardness of his back. "You make me feel so..."
"What?" His voice was thick. He lifted his head and stared down at her, his eyes silver bright.
"I don't know." She gasped as a pleasantly rough fingertip brushed across the beaded tip of her breast.
When she was finally able to speak, she murmured, "You make me feel... whole."
His fingers stilled in their quest. The room grew suddenly hushed as he lifted a hand to trail gently across her cheek. "It's funny you should say that because that's how I've felt with you almost from the start." His expression was more tender than she'd ever seen it. "For the first time in my life, I feel as if I really belong."
Then there were no more words, and none were needed. His hands were everywhere—stroking, seeking, arousing her to a pitch of intensity she'd never known before. His mouth slid down to cover the ach- ingly erect tip of her breast, tracing scorching circles of fire around her nipple. A hand drifted lower to slide into the springy softness between her thighs, caressing her with a sensually tormenting motion that made her clench and unclench her fingers against his shoulders. His breath was labored and hot against her skin, and she could feel as well as sense the rigid control he exerted over himself. But always beneath the raging storm of his desire were the ever-present elements of tenderness and caring he had shown her.
Never before had Angie been more aware of it, and it only made her all the more determined to give as he was giving.
She could stand his erotic ministrations no longer. Driven by a powerful tide of longing, she shifted beneath him and began a mindless undulation of her hips that she knew would drive him wild.
"Angie..." His breath tumbled out in a rush.
She responded by parting her thighs. Eyes closed, she surged upward in search of vital male warmth, moaning her satisfaction when she found it.
Matt gasped with pleasure as her fiery softness surrounded him. Unable to help himself, he gave in to the myriad sensations bombarding him. Cradling her hips in his hands, he caught her to him and bound them together. He thrust hard. Deep. As deep as he could go. Angie's eyes drifted open, and smiling directly into her eyes, he began the slow, rhythmic motions of love.
A long time later she stirred weakly in his arms. Through love-sated eyes, she gazed up at Matt. "I just realized," she said rather sleepily, "that I didn't think to have someone notify the city council about tonight's accident. I wonder how long they sat in the council chambers."
Matt brushed a strand of gold off her temple. "If anyone asks," he said, his mouth twitching, "we'll just have to tell them the mayor was otherwise engaged."
"Otherwise engaged?" she repeated, then seemed to consider. "I guess I am, at that," she murmured, then added, "Blair Andrews will have a field day with this, you know."
"Why's that?" He ran a hand lazily over her bare hip.
"'Stay tuned for the latest of Ms Mayor and the Chief,'" she quoted, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Somehow I don't think she expected it to end this way."
Matt leaned over and dropped a kiss onto her mouth. "I hate to disillusion you, but this is only the beginning."
***
He couldn't have made a more accurate prediction. They were married one week later.
It was a simple, quiet ceremony, attended by those closest to them. Neither Angie nor Matt felt the need for fanfare. The spiritual binding of heart and soul was already strong and enduring. With the shadows of the past behind them, they wanted only to sanction their union as quickly as possible.
The following Monday evening Matt met his bride at the door. Kim and Casey had been in bed for the last hour. A blue-black darkness had settled over the earth, but the smile on Angie's face as she stepped inside was more radiant than the brightest day of sunshine.
Matt's eyes dropped to the two champagne bottles she held. He didn't have to ask how the city council had voted on the fate of city hall.
"Two?" he found himself teasing. "Have I driven you to drink already?"
Angie wrinkled her nose at him and lifted one of the bottles. "This one is to celebrate our anniversary."
"Three whole days." His eyes glinted as he followed her into the kitchen. "I can't wait to see what you come up with on our twentieth."
"Day or year?" She directed the question over her shoulder as she set the bottles on the counter, then opened a cupboard to search for some glasses.
Coming up behind her, he slid his arms around her waist. "Years, of course," he whispered, dropping a kiss on her nape.
A pleased little
smile hovered on her lips. "You'll just have to stick around and see, won't you?"
Matt turned her in his arms and smiled down at her. "That," he said in a husky voice, "is something I have every intention of doing—for a lifetime." He claimed her mouth in a long, leisurely kiss, then finally asked the question he knew she'd been dying to hear since the minute she'd walked in the door. "What are we celebrating with the other bottle of champagne?"
"Any number of things," she responded airily.
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that city hall will be getting a facelift after all!"
"And Westridge will be getting a women's shelter, too?"
She nodded, her eyes dancing impishly. "You're a smart man, Chief Richardson," she proclaimed sweetly. "Now I know why I hired you."
"To tell you the truth—" his eyes took on a provocative gleam "—I'm much more pleased that you married me." And he proceeded to show her exactly just how pleased he was.
Some time later they both lay stretched out on the bed upstairs, basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking, Angie's head pillowed comfortably on Matt's shoulder. "Sure you don't mind postponing the honeymoon a few weeks more?" Matt asked softly. "I know your presence at city hall is vital right now, but..."
She laughed and tugged playfully at the dark curls on his chest. Angie and Matt planned a trip to Arizona to visit Angie's parents. They had offered to look after Kim and Casey so that the newlyweds could be alone for a few days. But the girls would be with them during the two-day drive.
"You can ask that after the last thirty minutes?" Then in a more serious vein she added, "Are you sure you don't mind the girls tagging along the first few days?"
"Idiot," he admonished softly. "I love those kids almost as much as I love their mother." Threading his fingers through the flowing fullness of her hair, he guided her mouth to his for a deep and lingering kiss, letting her feel all the love in his heart.
Angie's eyes were shining when he finally released her. "I hope you know," she said rather breathlessly, "that we never even touched that champagne I bought."
The tip of his finger dipped just inside the moist warmth of her mouth. He carried it from her mouth to his, and smiled. "Essence of Angie. Much better than champagne."
Just then the bedside phone rang. Angie switched on the light and answered it. From the one-sided conversation he heard, Matt gathered it was someone inquiring about how tonight's city council meeting had gone.
"That was Georgia," she told him when she hung up a few minutes later. Then she added mysteriously, "I know what we can do with those two bottles of champagne."
A silly grin edged her mouth at his surprised look as he suddenly made the connection. "Wait a minute," he gasped. "You mean—"
She nodded. "Georgia and Sam are leaving for Reno in the morning. To get married."
He shook his head good-naturedly at her unnecessary addendum. "Just one more reason for you to gloat tonight, isn't it?"
"Maybe," she agreed. The teasing light in her eyes faded. With the suddenness of their marriage, she hadn't wanted to rock the boat too much where Kim and Casey were concerned, so Matt had moved most of his things into her house for the present. But in the last few hours she had been thinking.
"How would you feel about selling your house," she asked carefully, "and turning this one over to the city?"
In that very special way he had, Matt understood immediately. "For the women's shelter?"
Angie nodded. "I thought maybe we could buy another one."
"I see," he said slowly. "Not your house or my house, but our house."
She felt a familiar warm glow in her heart when he cupped his hand behind her neck and drew her down so that their lips met briefly.
"I like the sound of that," he said softly. "Almost as much as I like the sound of Mrs. Matt Richardson."
"Funny," she murmured against his lips. "So do I."
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A Family Affair
FATE DREW HER TO HER SON'S FATHER
As an act of compassion, Jenna Bradford had served as surrogate mother for a childless couple. Now, on the brink of marriage herself, she found she couldn't erase the memory of the son she'd borne.
Determined to see him one last time, she did not count on such strong opposition from Ward Garrison, the child's father. Widowed and guilt-ridden, Ward remained fiercely protective of his Robbie.
Slowly Jenna grew closer to her son. But it was much more difficult to penetrate Ward's defensive veneer, and find a place in his heart.
CHAPTER ONE
The stillness of the night was broken only by the quiet murmur of the sea. Gently undulating waves lapped the Gulf Coast shoreline. Soft as a sigh, a salt-tanged breeze wrapped its way around the solitary figure roaming the sandy stretch of beach.
There was a sensual fullness to the tall and graceful form, from the curve of rounded breasts beneath the pale blue cotton top, to the coltish legs clad in dark blue slacks. The woman ceased her restless prowling and slowly closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sable canopy that stretched endlessly above. Hundreds of diamond-bright stars wove a meandering pathway through the night-dark sky. The moonlight shone down on her profile, etching in silver the small straight nose, the full mobile mouth, the wavy hair that flowed like silk halfway down the proud lines of her back.
To a casual observer, she might have appeared much like the serene moonlit Texas night of which she was so much a part. But only the moon, the stars and the sky were there to bear witness to the turmoil in her mind—and her heart.
No, there was little comfort to be found in the solitude of the night for Jenna Bradford. And for the third night in a row, she was very much afraid she would find sleep just as elusive.
A sudden burst of wind sent her long black hair whipping around her face. Eyes that were normally a vivid shade of green turned dark with uncertainty as she opened them and lifted a slender hand to brush the wayward strands from her face. Wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill, she retraced her steps with a long-legged stride that soon carried her to the rear of a long string of apartment buildings dotting the shoreline. Once on the flagstoned terrace, however, she made no move to enter her home. Instead she settled herself on a lounge chair and gazed out at the glasslike surface of the Gulf.
Jenna smiled a little ruefully as she pulled a blanket over her shoulders. Neil would have a fit if he could see her now. Her late-night excursions would have to stop once they were married; he would never stand for it. Perhaps Neil was a bit overprotective, but he had compensating qualities, she hastened to remind herself. He was concise and articulate, not only in his manner of speaking but in his way of thinking, as well. She suspected this stemmed from his years in law school. With his oftentimes serious, intent look, she occasionally teased him that he reminded her of a wise old bird. A pair of owlish glasses was all that was needed to complete the picture. Yet, even though she admired his sound reasoning and judicious nature, she was beginning to wonder if he wasn't rather... ambitious.
And somehow, Jenna wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.
But now was a time for joy, a time to love and be loved, a time every little girl dreams of. She should have been deliriously happy, she told herself for what seemed the thousandth time that day. Well, perhaps not deliriously so, since that wasn't her style. But certainly she had every reason to be thankful.
Again her eyes grew troubled as she gazed at the luminescent moon riding high in the sky. Thankful. It was, perhaps, an odd word to describe a woman who was to be married to a successful Houston attorney in six weeks' time.
Pre-wedding jitters. Could that possibly be what this vague uneasiness about her future husband could be? She breathed an uneasy sigh. She wasn't sure, and a twinge of guilt shot through her. Neil, her wedding, her future with him, should have filled her thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Instead the past few days had found her
looking over her shoulder, unable to escape the specter of the past.
No, it wasn't Neil who dwelled in her thoughts so much as... Robbie. Robbie. Again she felt that elusive tug on her heart, like a fish caught on a hook and struggling to be free.
It was hard to believe the evening three days prior had started so innocently. Jenna shook her head. Her feelings, capped tightly in storage for nearly four years, had suddenly escaped, like a burst of steam from a kettle, and now she was being forced to deal with them. The only problem was how. Her heart gave her only one choice, but her mind urged caution. Three days of searching and she still wasn't sure. But was her choice the right one? For her? For him? For all concerned?
Her doubts had started Monday night, just a few days after she'd stopped working. It had been ages since she'd taken a vacation, and with so many details to be taken care of before the wedding, she had decided to take a short leave of absence from her nursing job in the Galveston Hospital Emergency Room. She and her mother had spent the day in Houston shopping for a wedding gown, and when her mother had headed home late in the afternoon, Jenna had met Neil for an early dinner. Later, when the nose of his car pointed toward Galveston, she glanced over in surprise as he exited the highway for a suburb twenty-five miles from the city. He drove straight to the heart of a residential district, finally pulling over to the curb on a wide, tree-lined street.
"Well, what do you think?" With the characteristic energy that was almost his trademark, Neil was at the car door and opening it for her before she had a chance to turn in her seat.
Out on the sidewalk, Jenna could only stare at the large Cape Cod-style house in front of her. Dense foliage edged the house before giving way to a velvety green lawn that stretched to the curb. Tendrils of ivy hugged the base of the huge oak tree in the middle of the front yard, lending a homey ambience that she found immensely appealing.
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