by Cheryl Biggs
Even though he knew she loved him, even though she’d married him and seemed happy, he knew now he’d never entirely banished the fear that someday she’d walk out of his life again.
Suzanne slipped her arms around his neck. “Hart, I know we were planning to go away for the weekend, but I don’t—”
“What?” He frowned, his alarm growing. “Are you sick? Don’t you feel well? What?”
She laughed. “I’m fine, sweetheart, really. I just thought that maybe we should stay home and redecorate the guest bedroom.”
Relief flowed through him, but his frown changed to one of puzzlement. “Redecorate the guest room? Why? Who’s coming?”
Her smile turned wicked. “I’ll introduce you in about seven and a half months.”
“Seven and a half…?” Hart stared at her, confused, then he understood. “You don’t mean…you aren’t serious?”
They’d never talked about children, and suddenly Suzanne felt a chill of fear. What if he didn’t want any? She tried to read his feelings in his eyes, but all she saw was disbelief. “I am serious, Hart,” she said softly. “Is it okay? I mean, you do want—”
“Okay?” He laughed. “Are you kidding?” He swung her off her feet and let out a whoop of joy that drew the attention of everyone on the parade field. But as swiftly as he’d swung her around, he stopped and lowered her back to the ground, alarm once again in his eyes. “Oh, God, Suz, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Did I hurt the baby? Oh, damn, I—”
It was Suzanne’s turn to laugh. “I’m fine,” she said. “We’re fine. And we loved being swung around by you.”
Hart pulled her back to him and claimed her mouth with his, savoring the sweetness of his wife’s lips and knowing that for as long as he lived he would be thankful she had picked him to love.
Suddenly Suzanne realized what the alarm in his eyes had really been all about. She touched a hand to his face. “I love you, Hart Branson, with every fiber of my being and more than you will ever know, and I promise that will never change.”
Tears filled his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, heart-wrenching emotion turning his voice to little more than a husky whisper.
Then he let out another whoop of joy, and holding Suzanne to his side, he turned to the other corps members, who were still staring and smiling. “Come on, guys, it’s time for that dinner party. But now we have a hell of a lot more to celebrate than just my promotion.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0705-9
HART’S LAST STAND
Copyright © 2001 by Cheryl Biggs
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