Belonging (34 page)

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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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.

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.