Captive of Fate (17 page)

“Think you might survive somewhere other than a city environment? Or are you a hothouse flower who would wilt?”

“So far so good, don’t you think?” she asked, opening her eyes and meeting his laughter-filled gaze.

“At least you don’t run screaming if a bee buzzes too close or a little dirt gets scuffed on your shoes.”

She gave him a playful jab in the ribs. “Matt Breckenridge, after I survived Costa Rica, I don’t know how you have the gall to infer I can’t survive Maine!”

He laughed deeply, gently depositing her against the fragrant quilt of pine needles. His eyes danced with a sensual invitation as he leaned across her, his face inches from her own. “I’ll give you credit, you’re one hell of a woman,” he breathed, caressing her parted, waiting lips. He traced the outline of her lips, teasing her until she moaned. She instinctively arched against his sun-warmed body in response. Molding his hard, male mouth against hers, Matt deepened the exploratory kiss, his tongue moving into the moist sweetness of her mouth. Her breathing became shallow and rapid beneath his trailing hand as he followed the natural curve of her breast, lazily circling the hardening peak. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his mouth from her, passion written in his eyes.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms and making love to you through the night?” His voice was low and disturbing to her senses. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as you, Alanna,” he breathed huskily. He touched the stray strands of her hair, pushing them off her brow, studying her with an intensity that created storms of longing within her. “You’re the kind of woman I want to see tangled up in my sheets the morning after. You have that kind of power over me. You’re in my blood, lady, and I can’t think two coherent thoughts without thinking of you.” He caressed her flushed cheek. “We were made for one another. There’s an indomitable strength in you, honey. I saw it in Costa Rica, and I see it in your eyes now. You’re so alive, and you have so much love and affection to give.”

She basked in the warmth of his adoring gaze, unused to such love and honesty coming from a man. It moved Alanna deeply, and she tentatively reached upward, resting her hand against his rough cheek. “I love you so much,” she whispered tremulously, “and I love the idea of sleeping with you in a tangle of sheets.”

T
he flames in the fireplace licked and crackled pleasantly in the background as they finished their evening meal. Alanna sat on the rug, leaning lazily against the couch, a soft smile playing over her lips. The flounder, dipped in cornmeal and fried until a golden brown, had been delicious. She had eaten with a ravenous appetite, but inwardly another hunger was perfectly sated.

Matt had loved her with infinite tenderness, and even now, hours later, her body remained bathed in that warming glow. When she had whispered, “I love you,” she had seen his gray eyes widen with surprise and then tenderness. Never had she taken so much pleasure in lovemaking. She sighed softly, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Good?” he murmured against her ear.

“The lovemaking or your marvelous cooking?” she asked.

“Both. Cooking is just another form of love.”

Alanna touched her stomach. “I feel like I’ve eaten at the very best seafood restaurant,” she admitted. “I never knew how delicious fresh fish could taste with potatoes and pan bread. You’re an extraordinary cook.”

He leaned forward, moving their plates to one side and then joining her, resting against the couch. “My Dad taught us how to make something out of nothing. I can remember as a kid digging a hole out in the back yard, making a small fire, and throwing a potato, some butter and milk into a tin can to make potato soup.”

She stole a look up at his face. “Was it edible?”

“Naturally.”

“And how did your mother react when she found out you had dug a hole in the backyard? I imagine she skinned you boys alive.”

“No, she didn’t. All she asked us to do was fill it in after we were done and to go out beyond the lawn the next time. She was a pretty savvy woman in most respects,” he murmured fondly, smiling.

“You were lucky,” Alanna agreed. She felt his mouth brush against her cheek, and she raised her chin, offering her lips. He kissed her slowly. When he finally broke contact, his face was scant inches from her own.

“And what about the lovemaking?” he asked, his voice husky and suggestive. “Did that pass muster too?”

She caught the glimmer of mirth deep within his eyes. Her breath caught in her chest as she lost herself within the flame of his ardent gaze. Finally she whispered, “I’ve never been loved so thoroughly…so…” A lump prevented her from saying anything else.

He maneuvered her around until she was lying across his lap, her head cushioned against his shoulder. His one hand rested against her thigh as he pressed her against his body. Alanna closed her eyes, dropping little kisses against his neck and jaw, incredibly happy and at peace with herself.

“I love you,” he whispered. As if to reinforce the words, his protective embrace tightened momentarily. “And I want to marry you, Alanna McIntire….”

Her heart contracted in joy. She saw so much there…his love for her, a shadow of fear still lingering from his past, physical desire.

“I made up my mind that I was going to marry you after the first night you spent at the base camp. I had gone over to the chow hall to get you something to eat, and when I came back, you had fallen asleep. I knew you hadn’t heard me coming into the room, so I just stood there watching you. I saw for the first time the vulnerability in your face, honey. You looked so damn lost and beautiful in that moment that I knew I loved you beyond any shadow of a doubt.” He smiled wryly. “And after you had eaten and we sat there in the darkness talking…my God, Alanna, do you realize I’d never spoken to anyone about those emotions before? I was stunned by what I told you of my feelings about war and killing. And you sat there with understanding and sympathy written so clearly in your eyes…At that moment all I wanted to do was take you into my arms and hold you. I wanted to lose myself in you and know, for the first time since all of it happened, that I was going to be all right. You gave me a strength and offered a solace that no one else had been capable of giving me. And I knew that if I were hurting, you would support me emotionally until I could get on my feet again.”

Tears glittered in her eyes. The power of his admission shook her very soul.

“And then I went through a stage where I feared losing you as I had Rachel. I seesawed back and forth as to whether or not to let you know how I felt. I wondered if it was better to let you go and never run the risk of losing the person I loved most in the world. I knew I couldn’t take it again emotionally. It took me seven years to come to grips with Rachel’s death, and it damn near tore me apart. I—” He faltered, his voice growing hoarse. “I never thought I could love again, Alanna. Not until you walked into my life. I had a choice to make: to deal with my fear and admit to wanting you as my wife, or,” he murmured quietly, “to give you up because I was too weak and cowardly to go after what I wanted and needed.”

A small cry broke from her lips as she reached up, sliding her arms around his neck and drawing him against her. “Oh, Matt,” she cried softly, “I love you so much. I can’t stand the thought of ever leaving you.”

Matt buried his face in her silken cascading hair. “Say you’ll be my wife, honey. Now and forever!” he groaned, his arms tightening around her.

“Yes…oh, yes,” she whispered.

*

The temperature had dropped again during the night, covering the trees, grass and brush with a glistening coat of frost. Alanna stood at the kitchen sink, a cup of coffee in her hand and a wistful expression on her face. The sound of Matt moving around the cabin gave her a renewed sense of joy. She turned slowly, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth as she allowed her gaze to move to the open bedroom door. A tangle of sheets, she thought, blushing slightly. The bed sheets were rumpled and twisted, the blankets pushed carelessly to the end of the bed. She closed her eyes momentarily, caught up in the memory of his body, his touch, the whispered words of honesty and love shared between them last night.

Alanna heard Matt approaching and opened her eyes. He was clean-shaven, his dark hair still damp and shining from the shower. She inhaled his masculine scent as he stooped to draw her into his arms. He leaned down, kissing her nose, cheeks, and finally, her parted, waiting lips.

“Mmmm,” he purred close to her ear, “you taste like sweet clover honey to me.”

“And you are my Sir Galahad,” she murmured, merriment written in her eyes.

“Without a horse, of course,” he teased, grinning. He cocked his head, studying her. “Do you know how incredibly beautiful you look this morning to me? Good loving brings out an inner radiance.” He traced her arched eyebrow. “Your eyes are like emeralds with a hint of gold in their depths. I think I might lose myself in them forever.” His fingers trailed down the velvet expanse of her cheek, and he outlined her parted lips, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. “And your mouth…” He groaned softly. “So soft and inviting, so sweet to taste.” He sighed. “I’d better stop, or I’ll convince both of us to go back to bed in a moment.”

Alanna trembled deliciously within his embrace. “It doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” she agreed.

“The selfish part of me would love it. But I’d like to spend the morning doing some hiking around here with you, honey. I’m anxious to show my home ground to you, to share my growing-up years. Or does that sound boring to you?”

Alanna shook her head. “It sounds wonderful. After the mud and tropical storms of Costa Rica, I’m up to anything.”

“That’s my lady. Come on, let’s pack two knapsacks, and we’ll be off.”

They walked through groves of stately pine and climbed the gently sloped earth above the river, the dry leaves of maple and oak crunching beneath their feet. Stepping out into the sun-drenched meadow, Alanna felt her heart soar. She impulsively skipped a few steps and turned, a smile on her lips.

“I feel like running for the sheer happiness of it!” she exclaimed.

He released her hand, sharing her smile. “Go ahead,” he coaxed huskily.

“Thanks,” she whispered, and then turned, throwing herself into the arms of the long, gently rolling meadow. Her hair streamed across her shoulders like dark silk, and she flew through the tall grass. She was a butterfly, a yellow and black monarch floating on the invisible currents.

Finally, as the meadow narrowed and then ended in another group of oak and evergreens, Alanna slowed reluctantly to a stop. Perspiration dotted her brow, giving her face a glistening sheen. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion of the ecstatic run, and her breath came in short, shallow gulps as she leaned down, resting her hands against her knees in an effort to catch her breath. Her dark hair framed her features in tangled disarray.

Matt found her, grinning broadly as he sauntered over the small rise above where she stood. Alanna straightened up, lifting her chin and meeting his smiling eyes. She laughed, impulsively running up the small incline to throw herself into his arms. He lifted her off her feet and swung her around, their laughter melting together into a beautiful song that echoed across the meadow.

Alanna gasped for breath, giggling as he returned her to the ground. Matt reached out, taming her hair.

“I told you, you’re a wood nymph,” he teased, his gray eyes dancing with pleasure as he watched her.

She tried to catch her breath. “I’ve
never
done this before! But it feels so good!” she exclaimed. “Matt, I’ve never felt so alive, so happy! This must be love. It just must be,” she said, her voice dropping to a reverent whisper as she leaned close and hugged him fiercely.

He tried to remain serious, but that irrepressible smile lurked in his eyes as he led her into the shade of a pine tree. He deposited her on the carpet of pine needles and then joined her, opening up the knapsacks and sharing the lunch.

“I told you before,” he said after a few minutes, “that there were other sides of you that were there but had never been allowed to surface. We were just privileged to witness one of them,” he murmured, “the earth child, Alanna McIntire.”

She blushed beautifully. “I love it! I feel so clean and free inside, Matt. I can’t explain it.”

“That’s why a lot of people like to jog, because it releases inner inhibitions and frees up their emotions.”

“And that’s why you run every morning when you’re at home?”

He nodded, passing her another peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Yes, although I prefer to release my stored-up tension in a much more creative way with you,” he drawled.

Alanna gave him an impish smile, ignoring his comment. “Your job probably produces as much tension as mine,” she noted. “I wish I had discovered jogging earlier, it might have helped me take the office pressure in stride, so to speak.”

She saw a troubled shadow cross Matt’s eyes, and she tilted her head inquiringly.

“Have you given any real thought to what Thornton might do when he finds out you’ve agreed to become my wife, Alanna?”

The words acted like a bucket of icy water on her ebullient mood. “No—I…I haven’t,” she admitted, then flashed him a tender smile of love. “You’ve occupied my thoughts day and night, Matt,” she confessed. And then she shrugged, suddenly losing the rest of her appetite. Alanna felt his sun-warmed fingers on her arm as if to give her physical reassurance.

“Now you understand why I asked you yesterday what your job meant to you, honey. I know without a doubt that Thornton will get rid of you. If he doesn’t fire you outright, he’ll create enough pressure and embarrassment to force you to leave.” His fingers tightened momentarily about her arm. “That means living with me for two more years in the D.C. area. I know Thornton hates me enough to make sure it’s tough for you to get any kind of other job that’s connected with the government.”

Alanna faced him, gripping his hands. “Matt,” she begged in desperation, “please tell me what happened to make him hate you so much!” She swallowed hard, watching the play of emotions on his face. “Please, darling, tell me. I won’t say anything, I promise. Help me to understand this damn feud between you and the senator. I—I could take being fired and even barred from the Hill if I only knew the truth of the matter.”

A flash of pain and then indecision appeared in his eyes as he stared at her. Alanna felt his inner torture, and she tightened her grip on his fingers. “All of it, Matt. Don’t spare me the details just because I may find them hard to take,” she urged throatily.

His mouth became thinner, that same grim line that she had seen before when the weather had prevented the rescue efforts at San Dolega. He bowed his head, chin resting against his chest, and the silence grew around them. “When I was asked never to divulge the true story, Alanna, I meant to keep that promise,” he said, his voice oddly devoid of emotion as he raised his head to study her. His brows formed a downward arc. “But it wouldn’t be fair to allow you to walk into the field of fire without knowing how things stand.”

She remained motionless, noticing that he had dropped back into military terminology. Field of fire…. It sent a shiver down her spine, and an ugly, unsettling sensation replaced her sunny mood. Matt looked away, his profile rugged and withdrawn as he stared at the beauty of the meadow in the noon light.

“You’ll need some background information,” he began in a faraway, detached tone. “I went back to Vietnam after viewing the graves of my parents and Rachel and our baby and threw myself into the most dangerous Recon activity that I could find. That meant operating behind enemy lines for more than ten days at a time. I don’t know how to explain the stress of such duty except to say that we lived with death twenty-four hours a day. Our job was to melt into the enemy’s homeland, gain information, and then radio for a chopper to fly us back to base on the other side of the DMZ, where we delivered our reports.

“I hadn’t been able to release the grief I carried with me, so it compounded my problems. Inevitably, I put my team into an untenable position. It happened because I was still too caught up in Rachel’s death…in the death of my child, whom I’d never seen.” He closed his eyes, his face expressing the anguish of his next words. “I had put the lives of six other Marines in danger. The enemy had discovered us, and we had our backs to the river. We were all wounded to some degree or another, and that was when Jim Cauley came out of nowhere and rescued us. He went against my express orders by flying into that withering blanket of fire. He disregarded them and saved all our lives.” He halted again, his face becoming less readable. “Thank God no one died. I don’t think that I could have lived with that on top of everything else.”