"You-you put toxic chemicals in a safety deposit box?"
"What would you have suggested?"
"I'd have suggested that you not steal the vials in the first place! Peggy, how could you have done such a stupid thing? Those were my—"
"I know all about them.” Peggy faced him boldly. “And I know exactly what you would have done with them, Jeff, for the next forty years! You'd have gone on running and hiding. Staying one step ahead of-of certain death!"
"Don't be so female and melodramatic."
"Melodramatic? Hey, I talked with one of the guys who were looking for you. His name is Panzer, and he's been all over the world going after wanted criminals. He's a bounty hunter, Jeff! And he is a total nut job psychopath who's prepared to kill you to get those formulas. I had to do something. I only got away from him because he has no legal authority over anyone from a free enterprise zone."
"So, you wrote the story about me."
"Yes.” She looked up at him angrily. “Did you, um, happen to read the story?"
"Yes,” he answered coolly. “I read it. Not a bad bit of journalism, I suppose."
"You suppose!” Peggy blew up. “If you had any idea what I went through to write that particular piece—"
"All right, it was good.” Jeff held up one hand to stop her ranting. “It was very good."
"Very good?"
"It was excellent,” Jeff concluded, his expression softening. “You should be proud of yourself, Peggy. You're a first-rate writer."
"Well, I thank you."
"I should be thanking you.” Jeff put his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “In fact, I should be thanking you for a great many things, Peggy. The first is for saving my life."
Peggy felt herself start to blush. “Well, I didn't ... I wasn't really responsible..."
He began to smile. “You wrote a first-rate, hard-news item, and it was picked up all over the world. I read it in Canada, in fact. And, after a couple of days of watching the television coverage of the story, I worked up my courage to phone the lab."
"You mean—where you used to work?"
"Yes. I talked to the guy in charge, and he immediately contacted The Research Institute. They've very reluctantly agreed to let the matter drop—"
"Oh, Jeff!"
"Provided I remain in completely secluded exile and not give any more stories to the press. You included."
Peggy's heart was running over with joy. She hugged herself to quell the urge to run into his arms. “I think that's wonderful. I'm so happy for you."
Jeff picked up a poker and began to tend the fire in the hearth. He continued to speak as he worked. “The second thing I should be thanking you for is a little less concrete, I guess."
"What do you mean?"
"You and I—we said a lot of things to each other, Peggy. Some of them I wish I could take back. But I—well, I want you to know that you were right about me."
"How's that?"
"I am accustomed to being alone. I tried to handle my problems without any outside assistance. I felt I had to go on protecting the others around me, so I—"
"But we're all here together,” Peggy said softly.
"Yes.” Jeff straightened and leaned the poker against the hearth. He turned to Peggy, then and studied her face. “I'm glad you helped me, Peggy. Thank you."
She tried to shrug. “No big deal."
He didn't sniffle. The only sound in the room was the snapping and crackling of the fire. In the lamplight, Jeff's face looked solemn and vaguely pained. He cleared his throat. “I wish things had been different for us, Peggy. It was the wrong time and the wrong place, I guess."
"No,” she said. “Just the wrong time."
He didn't respond. But a flash of hope crossed his eyes, and Peggy closed the distance between them. She came to a stop, just millimeters from Jeff, and began to effectively unbutton her shirt.
She looked up at him. “We've got more time now."
Jeff expelled a pent-up breath. As though taking hold of a priceless piece of artwork, he gasped her shoulders and squeezed. “Peggy, I think I'm madly in love with you."
She laughed. “Madly?"
"Passionately! Insanely!"
She smiled up at him, her lips trembling. “I'm so glad, because I'm madly and passionately and insanely in love with you, Jeff. I thought I'd die not knowing if you were safe."
He hugged her against his frame, burying his hands in her tumbled hair, seeking her lips with his own, holding her as though he was afraid to let her go. Peggy kissed him back with all her heart. Happiness bubbled up inside her, but there were tears, instead of laughter.
"My darling Peggy.” He kissed the moisture from the corners of her eyes. “Will you stay with me? Help me put my life back together? I need you badly."
"Yes, I'll stay. Hold me."
"All night,” he promised. “And for the days and weeks that follow. I don't want to let you out of my sight."
She laughed. “You're going to see a lot more of me in a minute. I'm soaked to the skin. I want out of these wet clothes, please."
His brown eyes gleamed in the firelight. “With pleasure."
He finished unbuttoning her shirt and started removing her pants. Peggy responded, pulling off his flannel shirt, then hardly able to unfasten the buttons for the trembling in her fingers. As they undressed, they gravitated toward the stairs.
"I love you,” Peggy said.
They were finally standing by the bed and nearly naked.
"I was never so happy in my life as the moment I opened your message."
"Hmm?” was all that he replied. Jeff's lips were busy nibbling her throat. “What?"
"Your message. I think I'll save it forever."
Jeff straightened, frowning. “What message?"
"The letter you sent. To my postal box in the free zone."
"My darling Peggy,” he said patiently, “I never sent a message. I wanted to get back here before I called you. I wanted to get some supplies and—"
"Wait a second. You mean you didn't write to me? Then who the hell did?"
But Jeff didn't care. He was stripping off her thong panties and filling his hands with her full and firming breasts. Her erect nipples both covered by his gentle palms.
"Never mind that,” he murmured. “I want to make love to you, Peggy. I haven't been able to think of anything else since I left you
"But-but, Jeff. The note was signed by Jonny O'Dawg. I mean, I thought it was you pretending to be him ... Jeff, are you listening?"
"Umm,” was his only reply.
Peggy sighed. Sometimes, there were more important things to do than chase after good stories. She wrapped her arms and legs around Jeff, and helped him to press her down among the bed covers. In minutes, his wonderfully huge and hard penis was all the way inside of her, and she forgot all about Jonny O'Dawg. Whoever, wherever, and whatever the hell he actually was.
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About the Author
Ann-Marie Desiree was born in Detroit, and grew up in Grand Rapids, Michigan. She attended colleges at Davenport University, Michigan State University, U.C.L.A., and Lund Universitet in Sweden, among others. She has bachelors’ degrees in History (with minors in Psychology and Education), Business Administration, and International Business, and a Master's Degree in history.
Ann-Marie has also been a columnist and news reporter for various newspapers, and a freelance writer for magazines. She has also written several books of both fiction and non-fiction. She is a member of the Authors Guild, the Mystery Writers of America, the National Fantasy Fan
Federation, the National Writers Association, the National Writers Union, the Romance Writers of America, and the Science Fiction Writers of America. She has been listed in the Who's Who in America for several years.
Ann-Marie is a world traveler, and has had many interactions with people from all kinds of places and backgrounds. These have included most continental U.S. states and Hawaii, Indi
a, Australia, North Africa, Scandinavia and Western Europe, Panama, Canada, and Mexico. She speaks several languages and enjoys researching and writing about her numerous trips and experiences. Her chief love is to help others to improve their lives, and to offer them all the encouragement she can.
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