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hawed around for days and when I couldn't stand it anymore, I called and asked Josito where
to find you." She smiled at him lazily. "I hoped you'd take the beer as a peace offering."
"I took more than the beer, if you'll remember," he murmured, drawing her mouth
down onto his in a slow, sweet kiss.
"Why were you ashamed of the night we made love?" he asked gently. "Were you afraid
I'd think you were easy?"
"Yes," she admitted. "I thought by giving in, I'd just joined the ranks of your other con-
quests."
"You crazy woman," he murmured, drawing a strand of her red gold hair across his
throat. "I've told you, there were no other conquests."
"But you let me think there were. And you were horrible to me when I went to stay at
Donald's," she reminded him.
He sighed, his eyes pained at the memory. "All I could think of was that you'd hated what
happened, and that you were paying me back. You see, Ellen..." He touched her hair.
"When Ellen lost her temper with me, she always ran to Donald," he said, surprising her
by saying his cousin's name. "I don't think she ever let him touch her, don't misunderstand
me. But Donald was always there when she needed a shoulder to cry on. It did terrible things
to me. After a while, I hated them both. When she died, and he went to pieces at the funeral, a
lot of things made sense. I shouldn't have married her. She was Donald's girl, you know. I
should have realized that what I felt for her was infatuation, not something permanent. But by
the time I did, it was too late. She had fallen in love with me and I felt responsible for her. But
she wanted more than I was able to give her, and that's my cross."
She touched his cheek. "Donald never touched me," she said gently. "I couldn't have let
anyone else, not after you."
"I should have known that, shouldn't I?" he asked, his voice rich and deep, velvety and full
of
wonder. "But I had some crazy idea that you
preferred Donald." He sighed deeply. "Let's face
it, love, I'm far from perfect. I've got a hell of a
temper and I'm not easy to get along with even on
my good days. Donald is mischievous, even-
tempered__"
"Very nice and unassuming, and as different from you as night is from day," she
continued. She bent down and brushed her mouth over his. "Then why is it that I still prefer
you?"
He eased her across him and his mouth bit hungrily into hers, the kiss so deep and
ardent that she shuddered, moaning softly.
"I want you so," he whispered shakily, gazing into her rapt eyes. "In every way there is."
She laughed. "In a few months, I'll look like a pumpkin and two cantaloupes. We'll see how
you like me then," she challenged.
"You're carrying my child," he said, his eyes dropping caressingly to her stomach. "I'd
like you if you looked like a blimp."
"I probably will."
"You don't sound too unhappy at the prospect," he chuckled.
She shook her head. "I'm not unhappy at all. I like being pregnant."
"You don't feel.. .trapped?" he asked, concern in his face, his eyes.
"Oh, no," she assured him. "Funny, I always
thought of any kind of commitment as a padlock
on my freedom. But the baby..." She smiled.
"I've been thinking up names. If he's a boy, I'd
like to call him Cameron Edward____"
"How about Candy for a girl?" he replied.
"Done!"
He laughed wickedly. "And if they're twins?"
Her eyes lit up. "John, there are twins on my side of the family, at least three sets that I
know of."
He sighed. "Mine, too, honey. It was way back, but definitely twins."
"You're not sorry about the baby, are you?" she asked, worried.
"My God, are you blind?" he asked, one corner of his mouth plunging.
"Just checking."
"We'd better start thinking about dates, places, and witnesses," he observed. "Before very
much longer, you're going to be obviously pregnant, and I don't want any snide remarks
made about my wife."
"I'd like a church wedding," she said definitely. "But a very small one, okay?"
"Okay." He twined a long strand of her hair around one finger as he propped himself on an
elbow to look down at her pink bareness, feasting on the sight. "God, you're pretty," he mur-
mured.
She couldn't help the blush. This was still new territory and she lowered her eyes to his
hair-matted chest. "Lecherous thing," she accused coyly. "Getting girls in trouble..."
"You helped me," he reminded her with a wicked grin.
"Temporary insanity," she pleaded. "I wasn't responsible."
He chuckled, bending to brush his mouth over her soft skin with devastating tenderness.
"Liar," he whispered, the mustache tickling.
She smoothed the cool, dark strands of hair at his nape, drowning in the sweetness of his
mouth as it touched her. "I love you," she whispered shakily, her eyes closing. "You're my
best friend in the whole world, John Durango."
He lifted his head, catching her eyes to read their misty green depths. "You need to hear it,
don't you?" he asked softly. "Women need the words."
She managed a smile for him. "I can see it," she corrected, searching his face, awed at the
tenderness, the soft hunger in it.
He drew in a steadying breath, tracing her mouth with his finger. "I...do love you,"
he ground out. "I always will." He nuzzled his forehead against hers, his eyes closing for a
minute. They opened and looked directly into hers. "There'll never be another woman."
"Or another man for me," she promised, lov
ing him with her eyes. "I've been so lonely with
out you__"
_
He kissed her eyes closed, whisper movements of his lips brushing her eyelids, her wet lashes.
His body moved, easing gently down over hers, his arms catching the bulk of his weight as his
mouth poised a breath away from her waiting lips.
"Now it's your turn," he murmured deeply. "Suppose you show me how lonely it's been."
"I'd love to," she murmured, smiling as she reached up to bring his head down. She
drowned in the sweetness of the long, slow kiss, loving the weight and warmth of his big
body, the closeness. She was fighting for breath when he finally drew away.
"The baby...!" he whispered suddenly, starting to lift away.
But her arms held him, tender, wanting arms. "You won't hurt the baby," she promised with
a warm smile. "I asked the doctor," she added with a twinkle in her soft eyes. Suddenly she
laughed. "John, can you imagine what Elise is going to think?"
He chuckled softly. "If we'd had any idea what was coming, I'd have had you grab your side
and fake an attack of appendicitis. My God, and I told you that you could name it after
me...!"
She buried her face in his warm throat. "The joke was on us, my darling," she whispered.
He stiffened, drawing back to look down at her. "Say that again," he breathed
unsteadily, watching her mouth. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]