A Passion Most Pure (Daughters of Boston, Book 1)

by Julie Lessman

  She started to protest when his mouth met hers, warm and sweet as he kissed her, and the heat that coursed made her dizzy in his arms. His kiss remained gentle and lingering, so unlike his kisses of the past, and she found herself returning it with a vehemence that shocked them both. He drew back, lips parted in surprise, and in the catch of his breath, the gray eyes heated like molten lava. With a low groan, his mouth took hers once again, evoking a soft moan from her lips. She could feel his breath warm against her skin, and a jolt of heat seared unlike anything she had ever felt, except with him. It was as if they'd never been apart, like he had never left at all, and in her heart, she knew he hadn't. A rush of emotion flooded, and before she realized, words were tumbling from her lips.

  "Oh Collin ..." she breathed, and she wanted to say she loved him, that she had always loved him, but the words choked thick in her throat. She thought of Mitch, and an aching filled her soul at the pain she would cause if he found them like this. She had to stop. But she needn't have worried.

  In the next second, Collin wrenched away, his eyes filled with longing. He stepped back and breathed in deeply, shoving the hair in his eyes away from his face. His lips puffed, expelling another loud breath, and then the trademark smile returned with a vengeance. "Yep, we still got it," he whispered, exhaling again while his fingers threaded his hair. Her mouth slacked open. "You stopped!"

  He eyed her, his brow slanted in surprise. "Give me a little credit, will you? A guy has to learn a lot of restraint living in a trench."

  "Why did you?"

  His eyes sobered. "Because I shouldn't have done it in the first place. You're engaged to someone else," he said quietly. "And because you were right."

  She pushed the hair from her face and smoothed out her dress, hands trembling and tears puddling in her eyes. "About what?"

  "About genuine love. You once told me all I cared about was my desire for the moment. You were right, as much as I hated you at the time for saying it. You said you wanted genuine love-like the kind between your mother and father." Collin smiled and shook his head. "Unfortunately, it took twenty-three years and the hell of war to understand what you meant, but I finally do. Genuine love is just another name for doing it God's way-a relationship between two people brought together by him and devoted to him. You knew that all along, Faith. You're a lucky woman. I just found that out, and I'm afraid my luck ran out before I did."

  He gently stroked her cheek, blotting a tear with his finger. "Look, I didn't mean to make you cry. I just wanted you to know you've had a profound impact on my life, and I'm grateful. Because, you see, Faith, just knowing you has made me a better man."

  Wetness shimmered to the brim of her eyes and spilled. He reached for the towel and tossed it. It landed on her shoulder. She laughed and took it, dabbing her eyes.

  "Tell me," he said, his gaze never leaving hers, "does he realize he's the luckiest man in the world? And I wonder ... does he know I'd kill to trade places with him?"

  The door swung wide, and Mitch entered the kitchen, appearing considerably relieved at the secure distance be tween the two. Faith stood with a limp towel dangling from her hands while Collin leaned against the counter.

  "What, is he making you do all the work?" Mitch asked.

  Faith managed a wobbly smile. "He made me wash," she said, sounding a lot like she was squabbling with Charity.

  Collin grinned. "What are you talking about? I would have had these dishes done by now. You've done nothing but stall."

  "I've got an idea," Mitch said. "Why don't I help Faith finish up? You must be tired, Collin. I know I am, and we both have to leave in the morning."

  Collin looked at Mitch out of the corner of his eye and laughed. "Okay, you don't have to spell it out for me; I get the picture. I am tired." He stretched before turning his attention to Faith. "It was great seeing you again, Faith." He glanced at Mitch. "Nice meeting you too, Mitch. Do you mind if I give her a hug?"

  Mitch shook his head.

  Collin walked to where Faith stood and put his hands on her shoulders. "Have a great life, Faith," he whispered, then kissed her gently on the cheek.

  Her heart was beating erratically. He scooped her up in a hug and clung for a few seconds with his face buried in her hair. A lump shifted in her throat. I might never see him again, she thought, and an awful ache stabbed within. He let go and stepped back. He walked to the door and pushed his palm against it, then glanced at Mitch. "I hope you know how lucky you are."

  Mitch's lips pressed into a tight smile. "l do."

  Collin nodded. His arm tensed as he pushed against the door. Over his shoulder, he flashed a final smile. "Here's to a happy ending," he quipped. And then he was gone.

  Mitch shook his head and moved to her side. "That guy's something else," he remarked dryly. "I think Charity has her work cut out for her." He took her in his arms and held her close. "It made me crazy knowing he was alone with you." He took a deep breath. "He didn't make a pass, did he?"

  She didn't answer, and he stiffened. "Never mind," he said. "I don't want to know. As long as you still care for me."

  She shivered and leaned against him. "I do," she whispered, and it seemed to satisfy him.

  "Let's get you to bed," he said. "Tomorrow's going to be a tough one."

  She looked up, her eyelids weighted with fatigue. "Mitch? Will you hold me for a while?"

  He smiled. "All night, if I have to." He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the parlor. He set her down on the sofa and leaned back, tucking her against his chest with his arms safely around her. She laid her head against him and closed her eyes. Whether she was just spent from the events of the day or emotionally drained, she wasn't quite sure. The only thing she was sure of at the moment was that thoughts of Collin McGuire were heavy on her mind, and the soundness of sleep was her only escape.

  Suddenly he wasn't so tired anymore. It wasn't like he was going to sleep anyway, he thought as he made his way to Brannigan's. He had a suspicion that insomnia-like the sick feeling in his gut-was going to be around for a while. Collin pulled his jacket tighter, bracing himself against the chill of the November night, but he was pretty sure the coldness he felt had nothing to do with the weather.

  He couldn't get her out of his mind, a condition that had plagued him the entire year. Now that he knew for a certainty he would never have her, it festered and throbbed inside of him like the piece of shrapnel that ripped through his chest. That had missed his heart by mere inches; this had hit it dead on, and at the moment, he wasn't all that certain he would survive.

  Never had he been more grateful for Jackson, who had begged him to stop by for a drink, even though at the time he had no intention of obliging him. It had been a while since he'd seen the inside of a bar, or even wanted to. But tonight, well, tonight called for desperate measures for desperate men. And he was-a man desperate to forget he just lost his best shot at happiness.

  Collin blew on his hands as he entered Brannigan's, his body chilled and his fingers near frozen. He spotted Jackson at the bar and headed his way, aware of the attention he drew as a man in uniform. He slid onto the stool next to his friend, who was doing his best to make time with a pretty young thing who eyed Jackson through wary eyes.

  Collin grinned and waved at Lucas for a beer, then leaned to whisper in Jackson's ear. "Have you even managed to get lucky one night since I've been gone, old buddy?"

  Jackson jumped up and wrestled him around the neck. "Well, I'll be doggone!" he shouted, giving Collin a bear hug. "Our doughboy hero is back. Got a feeling the ladies will be saying their prayers tonight!" He slapped Collin on the back. "So, how was the front? You teach them Germans what for?"

  "I did and got wounded for the cause," he said as he shook Lucas's hand.

  "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, now." Lucas laughed. He coasted a foaming mug of beer across the bar to him. "And in uniform too. Same old Collin-show no mercy to the ladies. So, ya back for good now?"

  Colli
n took a swig of his beer. "Afraid so. A piece of shrapnel sent me home early. But don't expect me to boost your profits any, Lucas. I'm off to New York in the morning."

  "Not too early, I hope," Lucas said with a grin. "That's going to break a few hearts, mine included." Lucas cocked his head, giving Collin a wicked smile. "Those Germans didn't hurt nothin' valuable, now did they?"

  Collin grinned. "You think I'm a fool? I laid low."

  Lucas laughed and made his way to the other end of the bar. Collin turned to Jackson. "Missed you, of buddy. How the devil did you manage to weasel out of the war anyway?"

  Jackson chuckled. "Don't ya know? My eyesight's downright awful. Why else ya think you always got the pretty girls and me the ugly ones? I just couldn't see!"

  Collin laughed and took another sip of his beer. "I wondered why," he said, leaning back on the stool while taking stock of the action in the pub.

  "So, what's up with you, Collin? Hear tell you're planning on going into business with an army buddy in New York. What the blazes for?"

  Collin sighed and turned to face the bar. He circled the mug with his hands, his fingers twirling it on the counter.

  "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he said, staring straight ahead. "The plan was to come back to Boston, and if things didn't work out like I hoped, well, then I would move on." He stopped twisting and took a drink.

  "And things haven't worked out? You're not marrying Charity?"

  "Nope, things didn't work out." Collin hung his head and looked at Jackson out of the corner of his eyes. "And I don't know about Charity yet."

  "What? What do you mean you don't know about Charity yet?" Jackson frowned. "I thought you said things didn't work out."

  Collin rotated his neck, then rubbed his eyes with his hand. "They didn't. I came back for the sister, but it seems she's happily engaged."

  Jackson's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "You wanted the holy-roller sister? What, are you crazy? You sure that shrapnel didn't hit your brain instead? Or, you just planning to convert?"

  Collin grinned again. "Yes, no, and yes," he said, laughing at the confusion puckering on Jackson's face. "Yes, I'm crazy-about her. No, the shrapnel did not hit my brain, and yes, I not only planned to convert, I have."

  "What?" Jackson looked like he'd just been on a twentyfour-hour drunk, ready to keel over.

  Collin chuckled. "I guess you could say the worst thing in the world happened to a man who likes drinking too much and women even better. I found God."

  Jackson blinked and stared, then whacked Collin on the back, hooting and hollering. "Boy, I've missed you! You had me going there for a minute!"

  "I'm not joking, Jackson," Collin said, his tone as calm as the drunk passed out at the end of the bar. He finished half of his beer and pushed the mug away.

  Jackson's wide-eyed gaze flittered from the half-empty mug to Collin's face. "You're serious!" He shoved the mug back toward Collin. "And you're wasting half a beer?"

  Collin laughed and pushed it away again. "Jackson, I don't want any more. I can't stay that long. I just wanted to see you before I go."

  "What's this mean, Collin? Ya can't have a beer with a friend? What, God won't like it?"

  "I just did," Collin said.

  "What about your mother?" Jackson asked in a desperate voice. "You go off to war, and now you're gonna leave again? How does that square with God?"

  "Pretty well, actually," Collin said. "My mother has a beau, Jackson. Seems she got pretty depressed when I left for the war and started going back to church. Found herself a really good man who loves her. I'll be back for the wedding next spring."

  Jackson shook his head and gulped another drink. "You got it all figured out now, don't you? I'm sorry, but I just don't get it. You-of all people-a fanatic! Why? You have it all. The looks, the brains, the women!"

  "Let's just say I was looking for something more-more than this." Collin's voice was quiet, and his eyes sobered. "And I found it, Jackson, or it found me. Oh, I'll admit, it doesn't sound as exciting as drinking you under the table, or as much fun as getting lucky with a pretty woman, I guess, but in a strange way it is. I used to do all those things because of this awful loneliness inside. I couldn't shake it, Jackson, you know that. You saw me down enough times to understand the demons that had me by the throat. But now, now I'm not so lonely anymore, and there's a part of me that's ... well, at peace. Corny as it may sound, I'm never alone-God is always with me. Don't get me wrong, I still like a beer with a good friend, but I'm not driven to it anymore. I don't have to prove to myself, or to a woman or to the world, that Collin McGuire is worth something. I just know I am-because of him."

  Jackson gaped with his mouth dangling open, and Collin couldn't help but grin.

  "Does that mean you're swearing off women?" Jackson asked, his voice hushed as if he had just spoken blasphemy.

  "No, just waiting for the right one." Collin stood and grabbed his jacket. His grin faded. "Problem is, she's marrying someone else."

  For the first time, Jackson seemed to comprehend, and he grabbed his arm. "I'm really sorry, Collin. I guess I should have figured you had a thing for her all along. She's the only woman I ever saw who could send you over the edge. That should have been my first clue." Jackson's eyes suddenly perked up. He wagged Collin's arm in excitement. "Hey, maybe God could fix it for you. You know, since you and he are pretty thick right now?"

  Collin chuckled. He was going to miss Jackson something fierce. "That would be one miraculous answer to prayer, Jackson my man, but I'm not holding my breath."

  "What about Charity?" Jackson asked.

  Collin sighed and put on his coat. "I don't know," he said, his voice still. "I think she would have trouble understanding this new facet of my personality, and I'm not really sure I even want to try. As much as I love that family and want to be part of it, I think it might be wrong for me to marry Charity. And it would kill me to see Faith with someone else. Don't know that I could stomach it, unless God took her out of my heart." Collin buttoned his coat and slapped Jackson on the back. "Which," he said with a smile, "is exactly what I'm counting on. You take care, of buddy."

  Collin turned, and Jackson hooked his arm before he could go. "Blast it all, Collin, what's the world coming to if a guy like you turns to God?"

  Collin grinned like the Collin of old. "A better place, old buddy, a better place." Cuffing Jackson on the back one last time, Collin bowed and strode out the door, breathing deeply to fill his lungs before finally heading for home.

  "It's natural to be nervous, " her mother was saying, but Faith wasn't so sure. She had never imagined her wedding day like this. She couldn't seem to shake the uneasiness. The music played, a soft ethereal melody floating through the air along with a heavy mist that swirled, compelling her toward a final destiny. Everything seemed so beautiful, so perfect, and yet she was anxious. The nervousness remained until she saw her father smile, with her mother close by his side. The feeling of peace their love always produced settled on her like the mist in the air. I'm ready, she thought, and entered the sanctuary. She saw him then, more handsome than she remembered, and her heart raced like the wind. He took her hand as they stood before God and man.

  "Do you take this man?"

  "I do, " she whispered and felt his lips on hers, warm and unwavering. "I love you ... " she said, and meant it with all her heart.

  "Collin, wait!"

  He turned in the dark to see a young woman hurrying toward him, her tawny hair whipping in the wind as she ran. She stopped before him, smiling nervously, cheeks flushed and eyes bright as she briskly rubbed her arms to ward off the chill of the night. "What's your hurry?" she breathed. "I seem to remember you owe me a dance."

  Collin smiled as her eyes met his, and there was no mistaking the invitation being issued. His heart picked up pace, more out of habit than desire, and his mouth went dry. Swallowing hard, he kept his tone light. "I do at that, Shannon, but I'm afraid it will have to keep a while. I'm
leaving in the morning, and I best be getting home to bed."

  She rested her hand on his arm, and the smile on her lips broke into a grin. She gazed up at him from under silky lashes. "Even better."

  He could feel the old, familiar heat begin to burn before he gently pushed her back, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't been with a woman since the night he had fallen to his knees in the moonlight and given his heart to God. Hadn't wanted to, hadn't needed to. His mind was made up. He was through living for his own desires. Now he was living for God's, a commitment on which his heart and his head were in total agreement. But right now, with Shannon only a breath away-so soft, so sweet, so willing-well, suddenly his body wasn't so sure. Despite the coolness of the night, he could feel the sweat beading at the back of his neck.

  "As tempting as that is, Shannon, I really need to go home-to sleep."

  Unwilling to take no for an answer, she casually slid her hands down the sides of his waist. "Come on, Collin, it'll be fun," she whispered, "for old time's sake?"

  Electricity jolted through him before he grabbed her hands and pushed them away. The muscles tensed in his face. "Shannon, no!"

  She staggered back in apparent shock. "But, why? You've never objected before ..."

  Shame flushed in his face. "I know, and I owe you an apology for all the times I took advantage of you. I hope you can forgive me."

  She blinked. "What do you mean, Collin? I wanted it as much as you."

  His face gentled as he looked in her eyes. "No, you just wanted to be loved as much as I did. Unfortunately, neither of us knew we were going about it in the wrong way. You're too good for that, Shannon, too special."

  Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. "Yeah, right, Collin. I'm special, all right. That's why you're turning me away."

  He folded her hand in his, his voice barely a whisper. "You are-very special. Maybe not to the men you've been giving yourself to, but to someone who loves you with a passion you never dreamed possible."