Paper Rose (27 page)

“That was…scary,” she whispered into his damp throat as he held her.

“Absolutely scary,” he echoed, stunned by the violence of the climax. His hand contracted in her hair. “We didn't hurt our baby, did we?” he asked, and sounded appalled at the thought.

“No. It's almost five months,” she whispered drowsily. “And it wasn't rough. It was…” She shivered.

“Profound,” he whispered for her.

“Yes.”

He wrapped her close in a frenzy of sudden fear. If he lost her…

And that was the real fear, ripped from the camouflage of a dozen halfhearted excuses for keeping her at arm's length. It was the fear of feeling like this and losing her that had kept him from her.

“Tate?” she whispered, surprised by the convulsive sweep of his arms. “I'm all right. Really, I am!”

His breathing began to slow, but the fear of it was still there. He was remembering Gabrini and how close he'd come to losing her in Tennessee that night. It had haunted him ever since, drove him to drink—he, who only rarely even had a beer. He was afraid of nothing on earth except losing this woman. His eyes closed and he held her firmly against him. “I can't lose you, Cecily,” he bit off, without looking at her.

“But, you're not going to, ever!” she said, surprised. She pulled back and met his wild eyes. Her fingers touched his face gently. “I love you more than my life,” she said unsteadily. “I could never leave you!”

“You ran,” he said harshly. “You left me.”

“I didn't think you'd ever love me,” she choked. “I only wanted you to be happy, don't you see? I was getting out of the way—” Her voice broke as the memory of those agonizing weeks without him came back to haunt her.

His eyes closed on a wave of pain, and he brought her bruisingly close. “It didn't make me happy. My life was empty. Part of me was dead without you. And then to learn that you were carrying my baby, and in danger, and I couldn't find you!” His mouth buried itself in her damp throat. “I love you so much,” he ground out. “So much, Cecily!”

She felt the ripple go through his lean, fit body, with fascination. “You came after me, though. You saved me,” she whispered, still feeling the wonder of those husky words as she began to believe them. “I love you, too! I couldn't stop. I don't know how.”

The breath he drew in sounded shaken. His hand smoothed gently over her soft hair. “I'll be right with you when the baby comes. I won't leave you, not for an instant.”

“I'm very healthy and so is our child,” she said. “I'd tell you if there were any problems. There aren't. Except…”

He looked at her worriedly. “Except?”

She smiled against his chest. “I'm sleepy.”

“Oh.” He smiled back. That wasn't a problem. He drew the sheet over them and began to relax. She sighed and he kissed her forehead. “Deep thoughts?” he murmured.

“I was just thinking how glad I was that I waited for you,” she said. She kissed the shoulder her cheek was pillowed against.

“I'm glad you did, too,” he whispered. “The way we made love was almost sacred, that first time. Was that when we made the baby?”

“Yes,” she murmured drowsily. She touched his chest with drowsy content, loving the muscular warmth of it. “I always knew you'd be in a class all your own as a lover. I was right.”

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “I'm glad. But if you want it again, you're going to have to marry me,” he added on a chuckle, moving one leg lazily against hers under the sheet.

That brought her wide-awake. She lifted herself to look down into his dancing black eyes.
“What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I'm not going to be seduced and abandoned. You've ruined me. Now you have to marry me.”

She burst out laughing. “You don't look ruined to me,” she murmured dryly, letting her eyes feast on the long, muscular length of his body from his strong neck down to his powerful legs and in between. “You look absolutely perfect.”

“Flattery won't work,” he assured her. “I tell you, I'm ruined. You have to marry me to save my reputation.”

She hesitated, aware that he was devouring her with his eyes, from her swollen breasts to the slight swell of her abdomen.

“I want to. But I'm not sure.”

“I know that,” he replied. “Tell me why you keep holding back.”

“You're a loner,” she said simply. “The baby and I would impose restraints on you, on the way you live.”

He shrugged. “He's already imposed them,” he said with a grin. “I told Pierce Hutton he'd have to find someone else to undertake the dangerous missions. I'll remain head of security, but I'm through with commando missions. I hired Colby,” he added with a smile at her surprised expression. “It's the sort of work he loves, and he'll have fewer risks than he does in the job he has now. It might save his life.”

“I like Colby.”

“I like him, too, now that I know he was only a friend.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “How do you know?” she asked suspiciously.

He grinned. “Among other reasons, because you were starving a few minutes ago.”

“So were you,” she pointed out.

He chuckled. “I'm always starving for you.” He stretched lazily and pulled her down on his chest, ruffling her short blond hair. The smile faded as he searched her soft eyes. “I wanted you when you were seventeen,” he said huskily. “But I was responsible for you. I couldn't take advantage of what you felt for me.”

She traced a pattern on his collarbone. “Did you know how I felt, all that long ago?”

“Yes.” He smoothed a lean hand over her bare back. “I ignored it at first. But that day I brought you out to Oklahoma…” He laughed mirthlessly. “You didn't realize that I almost had you right there in the front seat of the car, did you?”

“No.”

He heard the fascination in her tone. “If we'd been in a less public place, I couldn't have stopped. It was dangerous to tease me, but you didn't know it.”

“What a waste,” she murmured sadly.

“Not at all. We both needed time to adjust to the changes it would mean in our lives, Cecily. All I had was the illusion of heritage and a job that could have cost me my life any day. I thought it was what I wanted.”

“It wasn't?” she mused, smiling.

His arm tightened around her. “I wanted you. I found dozens of reasons not to have you, because I didn't want to be,” he searched for a word, “owned.”

“People can't own you,” she replied. “But you can belong to people.”

“Same thing,” he murmured drowsily. “I learned early that if you let your feelings show, you can be tormented for them. My father…my stepfather,” he corrected, “knew that I loved my mother. He punished me by hitting her, until I got old enough and big enough to stop him.”

“Matt feels bad about that.”

“I know he does. But he didn't know about our relationship. My mother did all of us an injustice by trying to protect us from the truth.”

“She was only trying to spare you heartache and embarrassment.”

“Of course she was. But you don't do people any favors by lying to them, regardless of the reason.”

She smoothed her cheek against his warm, muscular chest. “Where are we going to live?” she asked, changing the subject.

There was a pause, and then he laughed. “I suppose we're going to need a house. The baby will want one of those gaudy, godawful outside swing sets when he's old enough to play, not to mention a collection of equally gaudy plastic toys.”

“They're safer than metal or wood ones,” she pointed out.

“We'll see what sort of real estate we can find in Maryland, near Matt and my mother.” He toyed with a strand of her hair. “They're already shopping for things to give their first grandbaby. They'll be overjoyed to see us together again.”

She closed her eyes with a drowsy smile. “All our baby needs is us.”

His hand contracted gently in her hair. “You weren't going to tell me.”

“I would have, eventually.” She sighed.

“I knew that you loved me. It didn't take long for me to come to my senses,” he murmured.

“You'll be bored with a desk job,” she said worriedly.

“No, I won't,” he denied, rolling over so that she was lying half under him. “I'm going to be a family man now, with new responsibilities.” He searched her soft eyes and smiled. “I love you, Cecily. And you have to marry me very soon. I really can't take the chance that you might come to your senses one morning and realize how much better you could do for a husband.”

Her heart stopped and then ran away. She had to swallow the knot in her throat before she could even speak. “I couldn't possibly marry anyone else. You really love me?” she asked softly. “You never said so before.”

He traced the line of her oval face intently with a long forefinger. “Oh, but I think you knew it at some level.”

“I suppose I must have,” she said softly. “You knew that I hadn't experimented around, so you had to care about me a little to take me to bed in the first place—and to ignore taking precautions,” she added dryly. She grimaced. “But there was always something standing between us.”

“I know. I wish I could change the past, but I can't. You ran because of me,” he said tightly. “Right into trouble. Gabrini would have killed you.”

She looped her arms around his neck. “You saved me. You've been saving me for years, even from yourself.”

He smiled. “You helped me save you,” he pointed out, kissing her tenderly. “You're handy in a tight corner.”

“I had a good teacher.” She traced his eyebrows with tender fingers. “I hope our baby will have your eyes,” she said. “They're so beautiful.”

“He'll be a duke's mixture,” he said softly. “I have Berbers in my ancestry, and French royalty.”

There was a note of pride in his voice. “Matt told you?”

He nodded. “He'll love having a grandson to talk to.”

“Leta will love having a grandson, too,” she murmured. “She can teach him all about Lakota traditions and culture.”

He kissed her eyelids closed. “I went to them for advice before I went after you. We made our peace.” He lifted his head. “Which reminds me,” he said sternly, “I never did get an apology for having crab bisque dumped in my lap,
and having it reported on national television!
That's no way to treat your future husband and, I might add, the son of a native sovereignty advocate and a United States senator.”

“You're absolutely right,” she agreed, tracing a sensuous pattern just below his collarbone with a teasing finger. “Tate, I'm really sorry about the crab bisque.”

His heartbeat increased even before she started smoothing one long, bare leg against the inside of one of his. He lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “How sorry?” he asked huskily.

She grinned wickedly and smoothed her body completely against his, feeling his immediate response to the blatant seduction. “This sorry…” she whispered into his mouth.

T
he next day, Tate brought Cecily to Matt and Leta's house. There was ice on the driveway from an early-morning weather system, so Tate lifted her out of the passenger seat like fragile treasure and carried her right up to the front door. He'd wrapped her in the black leather coat he'd given her last Christmas and pulled the hood up over her hair so that she wouldn't get chilled. In the soft beige dress she was wearing with beige boots, she looked elegant and very pregnant.

“Push the bell,” he instructed, rubbing his nose with hers.

“No.” She smiled at him teasingly. She was wearing her regular glasses instead of her contacts, and through them, her green eyes looked even more mischievous.

His chiseled lips tugged up at the standoff. “Okay. We'll do this the hard way,” he murmured, and dropped his mouth down over her lips. “Give in and push the bell,” he whispered.

She looped her arms closer around his neck and kissed him back with an enthusiasm that made him groan against her soft mouth.

Seconds later, she was crushed against his tan raincoat, holding his head to hers, lost in the delight of being held by him, kissed by him, loved by him.

Neither of them heard the door open.

“Wouldn't you like to sit down and do that?” came a deep, amused voice from in front of them.

They broke apart with self-conscious laughter. Matt gave his son a speaking glance before he turned his attention to Cecily, surveyed her curiously and then looked back at his son.

“Is there something you'd like to tell your mother and me?” he asked Tate.

“We're getting married,” Tate obliged with a grin.

“No!” Matt said at once in mock surprise and then chuckled as he opened the door wide to admit them. “See what I told you about a battle plan, son?” he asked Tate with glee. “Works every time!”

“Some battle plan,” Tate murmured dryly. “I went to Tennessee to bring her home, but she wouldn't come back with me. So I went home and got royally drunk, and when I finally came to, Pierce Hutton had had her delivered to my apartment like a late Christmas present.”

“That's some kind of a boss,” Matt said with a laugh. “Leta, we've got company!” He raised his voice.

Tate carried his soft burden into the living room. He was just putting her on the sofa when Leta came flying in from the kitchen.

“My baby!” she exclaimed, hugging Cecily the minute Tate set her back on her feet. “My poor baby, are you all right?”

The concern made Cecily feel like a watering pot. She dashed away the tears. “Oh, I'm such a mess,” she said brokenly. “And so happy!”

Leta looked at her tall son over Cecily's shoulder and smiled with pure joy. Tate only grinned, supremely happy.

 

Tate related the story of Gabrini's capture, and his pride in Cecily's fierce defense of herself made her flush. After the explanations were over, Matt and Leta left Cecily briefly alone with Tate at the table eating pie and coffee while they dealt with an unexpected visitor, a colleague of Matt's in the Senate. Tate seemed to find Cecily fascinating as they sat at the big cherry wood table together.

“You're making me self-conscious,” she murmured, eating while he sipped coffee and watched her.

“Pregnancy is a mystical experience to a man,” he said simply. “I'm hypnotized by it.”

She grinned. “I noticed.”

He chuckled. “All that talk about not mixing cultural backgrounds,” he mused, “and the first time I had you, it never entered my mind to do anything that would prevent a child. Didn't that seem a little irresponsible to you?”

“Yes, it did. But you didn't know I wasn't experienced.”

“Oh, I knew,” he said quietly, studying her. “I knew it to the soles of my feet, long before your body proved it to me.”

She blushed, remembering the sensations she'd experienced with him. Her whole body tingled with memories.

He shook his head. “It was a revelation, that first time. I still get aroused every time I remember it. Then on the floor of your office,” he said abruptly. “I still can't believe I did that.” He frowned. “You were already pregnant then. I could have hurt you and the baby.”

“You didn't. And, if you remember, I did the seducing,” she added with a grin. “Even under the circumstances, it was something to remember.”

He sighed. “It still makes me vaguely ashamed. I treated you shabbily, Cecily, and not only then. You've put up with a lot from me.”

“It was worth every tear,” she teased. “I have no regrets.”

“I wish I could say the same.” He clasped his hands together behind his head and sat watching her again. “You're very sexy with that swell under your waistline.”

She gave him a mock scowl. “Pregnancy isn't supposed to be sexy.”

“But it is,” he remarked. “You're radiant. You glow.” He smiled at her. “I'm glad you want the baby, Cecily. I want it, too. I'm sorry I've given you such a hard time.” He moved his clasped hands to his knees and stared at the floor. “My world turned upside down. I wasn't prepared for it. Nothing was as I'd believed it was. My whole life seemed to be a lie. It was hard to adjust.”

She put her fork down. “I know.” She searched his grim face. “None of us wanted to hurt you. We just couldn't think of an easy way to tell you.” She met the dark, searching eyes that came up, and the breath seemed to catch in her throat. He had such beautiful eyes. She wondered if the baby's would be dark like his or light, like her own. “Lies are dangerous, even kind lies.”

He nodded. His gaze ran over her face and he smiled slowly. “I wonder which one of us the baby will favor?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. Dark eyes are dominant,” she remembered. “Your hair is black and mine is blond, he'll probably have brown hair. I hope he has your eyes. And your height.”

“Are you really sure he's a he?”

“Yes, from the ultrasound. Considering that your father was one of three boys a girl was probably a long shot anyway. Did Matt tell you about his brothers?”

That was interesting. “No, he didn't.”

“One of them was much older than he was. Philippe died fighting in World War II. Michel died of a heart attack three years ago. They were the only family Matt had left. Or so he thought,” she added with a tender smile. “Anyway, boys run in his family and the father, not the mother, determines the sex of the child.”

He smiled at her. “As long as we have a healthy baby, I don't care what sex it is.” He let his gaze run down to her waistline. “But I meant what I said about getting married soon,” he added quietly. “I don't care for casual modern arrangements when a child is involved, although I'd want to marry you now even if there could never be a child. Our son deserves a family name and two parents to raise him and love him. As we've already agreed, I never considered preventing him.” He grinned wickedly. “And I'm not sorry, either.”

“Neither am I. Okay,” she said, smiling. “We'll get married whenever you want.”

He sighed with relief, glad that she wasn't going to fight him about it. “I'll speak to the priest here in D.C. who married my parents, if you'd like that. We could have a civil service….”

“No,” she said at once. “I'd like us to be married in church.”

He smiled. “Fine. And the sooner the better,” he added with an amused smile, glancing once more, with unmistakable pride and delight, toward her waistline.

 

They were married barely a week later, with Leta and Matt and Colby Lane for witnesses. Pierce Hutton and his wife, Brianne, were there with their son, who was several months old. They seemed radiantly happy.

Cecily looked up at Tate as he lifted the short veil of the oyster-colored hat that matched her neat silk suit, and thought that she'd never seen anything as beautiful as the look in his eyes at that moment. He smiled at his new wife just before he bent to kiss her, with such tenderness that tears rolled down her cheeks.

The reception was held at Matt Holden's home, and it was long and rowdy. A number of strangers had shown up for the occasion, some of them very somber, wearing equally somber suits and looking around as if they expected terrorists to vault through the windows any minute. Two other men, very scruffy-looking even in nice clothing, moved like wolves. A big blond man with a faint arrogance of carriage watched the other men warily.

Brianne Martin, with her sleeping child in her arms, moved close to Cecily with mischief in her green eyes. She was fair, like Cecily, but her hair was a darker blond.

“Those two over there belong to the government,” she whispered, indicating the stiff men in suits. “The ones by the punch bowl are ex-mercenaries. The big, lean blond man is Micah Steele. He's the last man in the world you ever want to make an enemy of. And that girl over there—” she indicated a slender woman with brown hair “—is his stepsister,” she added with a grin. “They don't get along at all. That's why she's careful to keep the room between them.”

“Boy, does that sound familiar,” Cecily muttered with a glance at her oblivious new husband.

“You, too, huh?” Brianne asked, shifting the baby in her arms.

“Yes, me, too. Tate's been keeping his distance for years.”

She glanced at Cecily's noticeably unbuttoned skirt. “My, my, imagine a man being able to do
that
from a distance!”

Cecily burst out laughing. Tate heard the sound, glanced at her and smiled with his whole heart in his dark eyes.

“On second thought,” Brianne whispered, noting the look, “maybe it
is
possible.”

Cecily only smiled. She and Brianne moved to the sofa and Cecily took the little boy in her arms, thinking that soon she'd have one of her own to love. Tate came up behind them, momentarily alone, and looked down at the baby in Cecily's arms with a smile.

“His name is Edward Laurence, but we call him Laurence,” Brianne volunteered, “and Pierce gets absolutely militant if it's shortened. He looks like his daddy.”

“Yes, he does,” Tate murmured, dreaming of his own heir who lay under Cecily's heart.

Senator Matt Holden sauntered over to join them, placing an arm around Tate's shoulders with easy affection. “Good-looking kid,” he mused. He shook Tate. “So is mine, don't you think?” he added. “I can't think who he reminds me of…”

Tate elbowed him with a grin. “Cut it out. I'm a better-looking copy of you.”

“Better-looking?”

“Better tempered, too,” Tate said with a warm smile.

“Only on occasion.”

“It's nice to see the two of them getting along so well, isn't it, Cecily?” Leta asked as she took her husband's arm.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “I'm getting used to peace and quiet.”

“Think so?” Tate mused. He looked at his father mischievously. “We're getting the papers finalized with the state to open the casino on Wapiti.”

“You can finalize them however much the hell you like, but I'll fight you tooth and nail to the very last fence!” Matt returned.

“There's no outside involvement this time, and we've got a referendum coming up on the res to take a vote,” Tate told him. “Do your worst.”

“You think I won't? I'll be standing right outside the polling place with a placard and every protestor I can muster. In fact, I'll…!”

“Stop it,” Leta said, getting between them. “This is a happy occasion. You two can go out back and have this out later.”

The two glowered at each other, neither giving an inch.

“Don't they look just alike when they glower like that?” Leta sighed, smiling.

Cecily's eyes were like saucers. “Oh, Tate…!”

He glanced at her with twinkling eyes. Matt did the same. She'd been had.

“You two!” she muttered, handing the baby back to Brianne. She got up. “I'm going to clean house here,” she said.

“I have to talk to Steele!” Tate said at once.

“I don't know him, but I'm sure I have to talk to him, too,” Matt agreed.

They retreated, chuckling like the devils they were, leaving a fuming Cecily beside her beaming mother-in-law.

Leta hugged her. “They're just pulling your chain,” she said. “Matt's compromised, and so has Tate. We'll see what happens now, but I think we'll get our casino. Actually,” she said, “it's more of a big bingo pavilion. No faro wheels, no slot machines. Maybe later, but we're starting small. And this time
we're
doing all the groundwork, in the tribe.”

Cecily hugged her back. “What a nice wedding present.”

“Only verbal, but we have something better for later. Matt and I are giving you a nursery, when you move into that pretty house down the road from us that Tate found you.”