Heart of the Raven

by Susan Crosby

  “Exquisite,” he said as he slid his bottoms off, too. “Perfect.”

  She dragged her hands down his chest, wrapped her fingers around him, her fingertips like fire. “Not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, struggling against the need threatening to burst.

  “I need to touch you.”

  He moved her hands, held them by the wrists and sat back on his heels. “Later.”

  Her body was amazing—lean and muscled, yet curved and soft. He kissed her hard, unable to keep things slow a second longer. Her tongue met his thrust for thrust as he pressed her into the mattress and stretched out on top of her. Her legs opened, welcoming him, but he wanted more first. More of her mouth. More of her breasts. The taste of her nipples, hot and hard. The feel of her skin, damp and smooth. The temptation of the sublime femaleness of her body as he moved down her, savoring and appreciating and arousing. She arched high, moaned low, begged softly. He dragged his fingers up her thigh, stopping at the apex to stroke her lightly, learning her, appreciating her, going deeper with each touch.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I—”

  “Can’t what?”

  “Wait. Wait. I can’t—”

  “Then don’t wait.”

  “Together,” she said, the word gritty. “I want it to be together.”

  “In a minute.” He caressed her, teased her, found the places that made her gasp, settled his mouth there.

  She grabbed hold of his hair as if to stop him even as she tipped her pelvis toward him, then she exploded with sound and motion, pleasing him, exciting him. Before she could come down, he moved up her body and drove into her, her welcome tight and hot. He’d barely begun to move when she came again, louder, more violently, the sounds dragging on and on, her legs wrapping tighter around him. Then he was lost, too, in the pleasure, in the heat, in the beauty, in the wonder. There’s no place like home. He wanted it to last forever, be forever, take forever….

  When reality touched him again and he was spent, he lay sprawled on her, not wanting to give up possession. “Can you breathe?” he asked after a while.

  Silence.

  “Cassie?”

  Still nothing.

  He pulled back. She drew a long, sucking, gasping breath that turned into a laugh.

  “Brat,” he said then he dropped onto his side, leaving a hand on her abdomen.

  Her smile was so tender and sweet he almost couldn’t associate it with her. Another fascinating side of the complex Ms. Miranda.

  “Was it good for you?” he asked, hiding his grin.

  She shoved him.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “You know it was,” she countered.

  “Yeah, I heard it loud and clear.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. He was amazed. Tough girl Cassie was embarrassed that she enjoyed sex in a way no one could doubt.

  “Stay with me,” he said seriously. “Sleep with me.”

  “You’re just looking to get lucky again.”

  No, he wasn’t. But he would play along with her. “What if I am?”

  “Then I’ll definitely stay.” She laid a hand along his face. “Can you sleep with the light on?”

  “Anything you need.”

  Her eyes took on a little sheen. She raised up enough to kiss him, then he gathered the blankets around them and pulled her close. When he felt her relax he said, “Why are you afraid of the dark?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it sounds stupid.”

  “Fears often are, but that doesn’t make them any less real.”

  She didn’t respond. After a few minutes he closed his eyes.

  “My angel can’t find me in the dark,” she said quietly.

  He tucked her closer. “Tell me about your angel.”

  “When I first was sent to my grandfather after my mother died, I couldn’t sleep at night. My mother died during the night, and I guess I figured my grandfather might, too, if I fell asleep. Who knows what goes through the mind of a five-year-old? Anyway, he put a night-light in my room so that my angel—the one specifically assigned to me—could find me and kiss me good-night, then I could sleep.”

  Her voice had gotten small, as if she was five again. He pressed his lips to her head.

  “You’re the first person I’ve told. I’ve never spent the night with anyone before, because I didn’t want them to know.”

  “Thank you for your faith in me.”

  She shifted a little, not moving away from him, but seeming to get closer. She slipped a leg between his. “When he died, when I was nine, I took the night-light with me to my foster home. The kids I shared the room with complained that they couldn’t sleep. They took the night-light away. I screamed and cried and begged. Finally they let me sleep in the bathtub so I could keep the night-light in there with me. They got rid of me pretty fast.”

  A hundred curses ran through his mind. She was just a little girl. A child who had lost her mother, an addict who probably hadn’t been the greatest mother in the world to begin with, but the only one Cassie knew, then she’d lost her grandfather, who sounded like a hell of a guy.

  “Of course, I had a knife, too, that I wouldn’t give up,” she said, changing the tone.

  “What kind of knife?”

  “A good one. Grandpa whittled and carved. He taught me. It was the only thing of his I kept when he died, that and some of his carvings. They took the knife away, but I found it and hid it. After that I made sure no one knew I had it, although the social workers speculated in their reports that I still did. They just didn’t know how stealthy I could be.” She smiled. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

  “I think you’re brave.” No wonder she championed children.

  “Just a survivor.”

  “Much more than that.”

  She yawned and nestled. “I’m tired.”

  “Sleep,” he said softly. “Your angel will come.”

  He felt her smile against his chest.

  “Thank you, Gabriel.”

  A minute later she was asleep. He thought about the life she’d lived. Thought about how quickly she’d loved Danny and how she was probably going to have to give him up, another loss among many. Thought about Kyle and his short, sweet life. How he would be alive today if not for Heath’s ego and arrogance.

  Danny’s I’m-hungry cry came over the monitor. Cassie didn’t budge when he slipped out of the bed and hurried to shut it off before it woke her. He found his pajamas and T-shirt in opposite corners of the room, then started out the door.

  “I’m coming, too,” she said, sitting up, still naked, looking bewildered, and sexy as hell.

  “Sleep, Cassie. You can take the next turn.”

  She got out of bed, gathered her pajamas. “I’m coming,” she repeated, coming up beside him.

  He closed his eyes and nodded, then he waited for her to dress. Together they held hands and went to take care of their baby.

  Twelve

  Today’s the day, Heath thought—the first day of the rest of his life. Cliché or not, it was the truth. The gardeners were finished cleaning up the property, leaving the view wide-open, as he’d intended when he built the house. His car had just been returned from the mechanic, who had cleaned the fuel system, changed the oil and got it into running condition again. It sat in front of the garage, ready to take Cassie and Danny for a drive when she got home from work, which would be soon.

  She’d been living there for a week, had spent every night in his bed, in his arms. Laughter and light filled the house finally.

  He’d made a decision about who to name as Danny’s guardian. He’d called Kerwin and left a message for him so that they could start the paperwork.

  He was in a great mood.

  He still hadn’t opened the blinds in his office—another big step to take sometime in the future. Having Danny didn’t resolve every issue, but he had turned Heath’s life around.

  Then there was Cass
ie. Elusive, complicated, sexy Cassie, a mother and a lover, a rescuer of babies and lost souls. There was so much more he wanted to know about her.

  He heard her car coming up the driveway and went out to greet her. She parked next to his car.

  “Going somewhere?” she asked.

  “I thought we would.”

  She smiled. “Around the world in eighty days?”

  “Around the town in sixty minutes, maybe? Won’t know until we get there.”

  “Sounds good to me. How’s Danny?”

  “It’s five-thirty and he isn’t crying.”

  “Progress.”

  They walked side by side. He took her hand. “I have a question for you,” he said.

  “Sounds serious.”

  “My lawyer reminded me that I need to appoint a legal guardian for Danny should something happen to me. I want that person to be you.”

  She stopped walking to stare at him. “Your parents…”

  “They will always be his grandparents. That may be the worst of it for you.” He smiled. She didn’t. “You love him. That’s what matters. Not blood.”

  Her eyes welled. She put her arms around him. “I’ve never been more honored. Thank you.”

  The phone rang. “That’s probably Kerwin. I left a message for him to call.”

  He hurried into the house, picking up the phone right before the answering machine would’ve come on.

  “Heath, it’s Kerwin.”

  “Thanks for returning my call. You got my message?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “I just asked her.” Cassie shut the front door and crossed the foyer. “She’s agreed to be guardian.”

  “I don’t know how to tell you this,” Kerwin said.

  “Tell me what?”

  A few beats passed. Cassie tiptoed into Danny’s room.

  “The DNA results are in. Heath, you’re not Daniel’s father.”

  “We’re going for a drive,” Cassie said to Danny as she changed his diaper. She’d found him awake in his crib, his little arms and legs in motion. He’d kicked off his blanket. “We’ll celebrate this momentous occasion in your life. It’s kind of momentous for your daddy, too, you know, driving again.”

  She didn’t hear Heath approach, but suddenly he was there.

  “His cord fell off,” Cassie said, lifting Danny’s shirt to show him the cute little belly button. “Look. He’s got an innie— What’s wrong?”

  His expression bleak, Heath stared at Danny. “He’s not mine,” he said.

  “What?”

  “The DNA came back. I’m not his father.”

  Cassie’s feet turned to lead. Her stomach churned. Her heart stopped. She couldn’t move, not even to hug him. She kept a hand on Danny’s stomach, her throat convulsing. She’d known. She’d suspected all along that Eva had been lying to Heath. Her story hadn’t rung true. But Cassie had chosen lately to ignore the possibilities because she’d fallen hard for Danny—and his father. It wasn’t like her to ignore reality.

  “Heath—”

  “Don’t say anything,” he said, then walked out of the room.

  Seconds later, she heard his office door shut quietly. Too quietly. She would’ve preferred he slammed it or banged a fist through it.

  She was partly to blame. She’d encouraged him to give his heart to Danny and not worry about the future. If he’d held back—

  No. He wouldn’t have held back. He’d loved Danny before he was born, even though he’d been afraid to.

  She picked up the boy and cuddled him close. She’d known it was too good to be true. A man to love? A baby to love? It wasn’t in the cards for her. The one time she’d let herself believe it might be possible…

  Cassie shifted Danny so that she could see his face, his sweet, sweet face. So helpless. And such a pawn in Eva’s game, whatever it was. That kind of cruelty could never be forgiven. Why had Eva left her baby with Heath? Cassie could only speculate. Danny would recover, although his life wouldn’t be as rich by not having Heath as his father. But what about Heath? Would he recover?

  Would she? She couldn’t afford to think about it right now. Whatever emotions were simmering needed to stay simmering. Danny needed her now more than ever.

  She wrapped him in a blanket and went outdoors. They walked all around the property, enjoying the sun and the view, until he let her know he was hungry. She fed him and rocked him to sleep, then put him in his bassinet, her hands lingering on him as she pulled the blanket up to his chin. She bent over and kissed him. “Night-night, sweet pea.” A sob rose from her chest. She pressed her hand to her mouth and whirled away, running from the room.

  She stood at the bottom of the staircase until she felt steady enough to approach Heath. Then she started up. Not trying to be quiet, she made her way to his office door and knocked. After a few seconds he opened it.

  “I don’t want sympathy,” he said, his face lined with pain.

  She understood his need to hold himself together. She was being held together only with the glue of determination. “Okay. But we need to talk about what to do next.”

  “Yeah.” His body rigid, he walked away then took a seat at his desk.

  She sat, as well. “Aside from the test results, what did your lawyer tell you?”

  “That I have to turn Dan—the baby over to Child Protective Services.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know the system, and I can work around the system. If you don’t want to turn him over, you don’t have to. Not until Eva is found. Or his…someone else with legal authority to take him.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Eva willingly left him with you. That counts. You’re providing a good home. He’s being well taken care of. And, Heath, I won’t put him with CPS, period. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

  “You say that like you’d be able to keep him forever.”

  “I won’t. I know I won’t. But I’ll gladly keep him until the right person claims him.”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Why did she do it, Cassie?”

  She melted at the pain in his words. “She liked you.”

  “What?”

  “She chose you. She seduced you, didn’t she? You haven’t said so, but I’ll bet it’s true.”

  He nodded.

  “Heath, we know now that someone else fathered the baby, but she must’ve already known she was pregnant when you slept with her, because you thought she had three weeks to go before she would give birth. She knew she didn’t. Apparently she doesn’t want the real father to know.”

  “But she’s smart enough to figure out I would do DNA tests.”

  “And she counted on the fact you would do exactly what you did—love him and fight for him.”

  “Can I? Fight for him?”

  “I don’t know. But you don’t have to give him up just yet, unless you want to. Do you want to?”

  He was silent for a very long time. She studied his profile—his long, shiny hair, his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, the straight line of his nose. His beautiful hands, clenching and unclenching. “It would be like being a foster parent, wouldn’t it?” he asked, facing her. “Take him in until the right home is found. Love him. Let him go.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want anyone else to have him.”

  “I know. Me, neither.”

  “I thought she would come and take him back. I never expected this.”

  “What do you want to do?” She kept after him, staying on task as much as possible. If she didn’t she was going to break down like she never had before. Danny… My baby. My heart. My love.

  “What would we have to do?”

  She straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “I make a call to Missing Persons first, see if anyone reported Eva missing, then see who did. It might lead to something. Then I’ll go over to CPS and talk to them. We need to make it all legal, if there’s any chan
ce at all of making it permanent.”

  “Someone will want him,” he said. “Someone else gave him life and will want him.”

  “You don’t know that. Can you do it? Can you continue to keep him?”

  “Without question.”

  That’s what she wanted to hear—conviction.

  “And still give him up?”

  “I won’t have a choice, will I?”

  “Then I’ll get busy. I can’t go to CPS until they open again in the morning, but I’ll call my contact at Missing Persons.”

  “Do it now. Here.”

  “Okay. He’ll be off duty, but he’ll remember the name, if she’s on the list. I’ve got to get my address book from my briefcase. I’ll be right back.”

  She needed a couple of minutes away from him, away from his sorrow that threatened to expose hers. He probably thought she didn’t care as much as he did. Maybe it was a good thing if he thought that. It would make the break easier in the end, not only from Danny but from Heath. He wouldn’t want her around if Danny was gone. He already had to live with the pain of losing Kyle, and that would never go away. The pain of losing Danny would lessen in time, but not if she was there as a reminder every day.

  Cassie splashed cold water on her face before she got her address book and returned to the office. She caught him staring into space, looking so alone. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go. She knocked on the open door instead and walked in.

  She didn’t say a word, just headed to the phone and dialed.

  “Speak,” came the voice from the other end.

  “Hey, Johnson, it’s Cassie Miranda. How’re you?”

  “Cassie, my angel, my one and only. I’m good, babe. How’re you doing?”

  “Working hard.”

  “When don’t you?”

  “Hey, I’m on a case that might be linked to something you’ve got. Maybe. I’m wondering if you’ve got an MP for an Eva Brooks.”

  “Brooks. Nope. Not officially, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the second person to inquire about her recently.”