The Bachelor’s Christmas Bride (16 page)

Until things sprang to life in her that had never known life before, taking over, taking
her
over, embracing her to lift her higher and higher and higher still.

She could feel her own heartbeat racing. She could feel the power and strength in every muscle of Dag's body. She watched his own passion mounting in the tense lines of his sexy, sexy face until she couldn't keep her eyes open to see it as she reached that peak he was taking her to, a peak better than she'd known was possible. A peak that held her in an explosion of ecstasy that she'd never experienced the same way, with the same astounding, astonishing, breathtaking splendor that seemed to freeze her in time and space for that one blissful moment…

That one blissful moment that Dag suddenly burst
into himself, plunging so deeply into her that it was more than a meeting, a matching, it was a union, a melding together of spirits and souls, a bonding that Shannon had also never experienced, that left her not only spent, not only satisfied and satiated, but a little dazed and dumbfounded by just how profound it had been…

Then Dag lowered himself to lie fully atop her, to kiss the side of her neck, to breathe warmth there and bring her back to earth, to herself, to a place where she could catch her own breath and tell herself it had just been some phenomenon of rapture…

“Wow…” Dag whispered in awe.

“Wow…” Shannon echoed the word and the sentiment.

“That was something…”

Something she still couldn't fully fathom.

And maybe neither could he because for a brief while they just stayed the way they were, basking in the afterglow before he slipped out of her, rolled to his side and half covered her with his big body while he insinuated one arm under her, wrapped the other over her, and held her to him.

“Tell me I didn't hurt you,” he asked then.

“You didn't,” she answered, looking up at him, savoring the sight of his hair mussed more than usual, of the tiny lines that formed around the corners of his mouth when he smiled. A smile so sweet she couldn't keep from raising a hand to his cheek.

“Now tell me you want me to stay the night,” he commanded.

“I want you to stay the night.” She had no problem saying it because she couldn't imagine having him get up, dress and go. She couldn't imagine losing the warmth
of his amazing body and getting into her bed tonight without him.

But now that neither of them was going to have to face that, Dag settled his chin on top of her head. She could feel fatigue weighing him down as he muttered, “Good. So good…and if you give me just a catnap, it can be good again…” he tantalized.

Shannon nuzzled into his neck and closed her eyes. “I guess we'll see,” she taunted him.

“Oh, yeah, we'll see all right,” he said as if he were accepting the challenge.

But accepting it or not, the arm that was across her stomach suddenly became slack enough to let her know that he'd fallen asleep, and Shannon closed her eyes, too.

She was warm and oh-so-comfortable there on the sofa, with Dag's big body partially her blanket, the fire still roaring and the Christmas lights shining down on them.

And in that moment that had its own special kind of perfection, she fell asleep, too.

E
very Christmas Eve, Northbridge held a non denominational service at the church followed by a potluck supper in the church basement. Year after year, much of the town chose to spend that evening dressed in their finest, attending the event with their whole family. This year the Mackeys and the McKendricks planned to be among them.

To Dag that meant that he was going to be with Shannon again. But in advance of that, he slipped out of her apartment well before dawn and went to his house to work all day.

Had it been up to him, he would have spent the day the way he'd spent the previous night—with Shannon, making love, napping, making love again and again and again.

But he'd also seen the merit to Shannon's wish to keep things private. So it wasn't until everyone was dressed and ready to leave for the Christmas Eve service that
evening that he saw her again. And by then it had already been arranged that she would drive into town with Hadley, Chase and Cody.

Saying that he wanted his own vehicle at the church to allow himself the freedom to leave whenever he chose, Dag was left to follow behind Chase's car, watching Shannon through his windshield.

At the church they all filed into a pew—with Shannon separated from him by Chase and Hadley—and the most Dag could do was steal a few glimpses of Shannon during the service.

The service that spoke of gratitude and caused Dag to think how grateful he was to have met Shannon, to have had the night together that they'd had.

The service that spoke of counting blessings and making the best of every gift, and also brought Shannon to Dag's mind.

The service that spoke of rejoicing and celebrating and holding close what was most dear—and again it was only Shannon who Dag could think of in those terms.

When the service was over, they went into the church basement where there were so many people that Dag still didn't get a minute alone with Shannon. A minute to pull her into his arms the way he was itching to. To kiss her, to feel her body against his like he had so many times last night.

And now that the meal was finished, while everyone else mingled, Dag was sitting alone at the cafeteria table, nursing a glass of eggnog and watching Shannon.

Three-year-old Tia had taken her to the Christmas tree to show her the ornaments that Tia's preschool class had made. But when desserts were laid out on the buffet table, Tia abandoned Shannon to an elderly couple who
Dag thought were likely talking to her about her late grandmother.

And all Dag could think was how beautiful Shannon was and that he wanted her so much it was almost driving him out of his mind…

She'd twisted her hair into a knot at the crown of her head and left the ends of it to spring out like a geyser. She was wearing a simple, long-sleeved white mohair knit dress that skimmed her curves and wrapped the column of her neck in a high-standing turtleneck. The hem of her dress ended just above her knees and from there Dag's gaze followed shapely legs to the three-inch high heels that he couldn't help picturing her wearing with nothing else at all—something he thought he might be able to persuade her to actually do now that he'd discovered a hint of a daring streak in her. A hint of a daring streak that he took great pleasure in bringing out in her.

But then there were so many things he took great pleasure in bringing out in her. So many things he just took pleasure in when he was with her.

Everything, in fact…

Gratitude and counting blessings and cherishing gifts and rejoicing and celebrating and holding close what was most dear…

The sentiments of the service came back to him then, making him recall that it had been Shannon he'd counted as a blessing, Shannon he'd been grateful for, cherished and rejoiced and celebrated in. Shannon he'd mentally held close and dear…

And it struck him that the things he'd felt making love to Shannon had been unlike anything he'd ever come across with anyone else. What he'd felt since then, what he'd felt all through the church service, what he felt at
that moment, wasn't anything he'd ever felt before, either. Not even with Sandra. Not with anyone.

But the day after Christmas, Shannon was leaving…

And suddenly that became an unbearable thought.

How the hell had he come to that? he asked himself as it struck him just how unbearable a thought her leaving was. How had he gone from believing she was engaged, from knowing to steer clear of her not only because of the other guy in her life but also because she wanted bigger and better things than he could offer, to this? To wanting her so much he would have gladly faced another five men—all of them with crowbars this time—if it meant he could end up with her?

Now
that
was crazy!

But somehow it was true.

And as that fact sunk in, Dag had to face it.

He wanted Shannon Duffy.

And not just in bed.

He wanted Shannon Duffy in his life. Constantly and continuously. Permanently. In his life, by his side, as close as he could get her every minute from now until the end of time…

That beautiful woman in white…

Who was more recently out of a relationship with another man than Sandra had been—a man Sandra had ended up with after all.

That beautiful woman in white who wanted a bigger life—much like his mother had always wanted more…

Maybe I'm just the dumbest idiot who ever lived,
he thought as he reminded himself of the two reasons he'd known from the beginning not to get involved with Shannon.

Two penalties, he told himself, in a game he swore had to be squeaky-clean for him to ever play again…

And yet something caused him to balk at thinking of Shannon in terms of infractions—hockey or otherwise. Shannon was too good for that. She was generous and kind and funny and sweet and caring.

Did she want a life that had more to offer than she'd known growing up? Than she'd known through the course of taking care of ailing parents?

She did, but Dag understood that. And he couldn't fault her for it. He'd wanted to play hockey and he hadn't let anything hold him back. Good parents or not, Shannon could well have done the same thing. But she hadn't. And now that she was free to do more, to have more of the kind of life she wanted? He couldn't hold it against her that she was determined to do that.

Plus there wasn't anything in what she wanted, anything about Shannon that was really like his mother—it wasn't as if Shannon put on airs or thought she was better than anyone, she just wanted a bigger bite of life. And he thought she deserved that. If anyone deserved that, it was someone who had done as much caring for and sacrificing for other people as Shannon had.

But if he thought that she deserved a bigger bite of life, he couldn't be the one to ask her not to take it, he told himself.

Because that's what it would cost her if he tried to keep her by his side, in his life, as close as he could get her every minute until the end of time.

It meant asking her to sacrifice what she wanted again.

Unless he did the sacrificing…

It took him a moment to accept that as potentially another way to go. And another, longer moment to consider it.

He could change his own course for her…

Surprisingly, that wasn't so difficult a thing to imagine once it had occurred to him. It was a lot easier to think about that than about her walking away the day after tomorrow and his never seeing her again.

But here he was, thinking about throwing his own plans out the window, about making a significant—a
huge
—alteration in his own life, without knowing how she felt.

And that was a very big deal.

Because it was the feelings that really mattered, he reminded himself. Shannon had turned down three proposals because her feelings for those other guys weren't strong enough, because they hadn't matched up to what her parents had felt for each other. If she wasn't feeling anything for him that was as strong as what he was feeling for her…

Dag stalled. He couldn't think beyond that.

He couldn't entertain
any
thought beyond that one, now that that one had come into his head—
did
Shannon have feelings for him? And if she did, were they the kind of feelings he had for her? The kind her parents had shared that had made them content to live any sort of life as long as they lived it together?

Until he knew what was going on with Shannon, where he stood, everything else was inconsequential. He
had
to know….

And he had to know now!

He got up from the table and crossed the room to her, grateful that when he reached her the conversation she was having with the elderly couple was ending with them wishing her a merry Christmas and moving on.

Grateful, too, that when she saw him, when her luminous blue-green eyes met his, her expression seemed to light up.

“Any chance we might slip out of here?” he asked without segue.

Shannon seemed more intrigued than surprised by that idea—which he was glad to see. “Think anyone will notice?” she asked.

“I don't care if they do,” he confessed, hearing the note of urgency in his own voice but not caring about that, either.

“Okay,” Shannon said with a smile he'd seen several times the night before, a smile that let him know she thought it was something other than talk that he had in mind for them.

But if all went well, talking could only be the beginning, so he didn't elaborate. Instead he nodded in the direction of the doors and that was where they went.

No one noticed them as Dag helped Shannon on with her coat, threw his on, too, and then ushered her out into the cold where a light, fluffy snow had started to fall.

He was parked in a nearby spot in the church lot and they hurried to it.

“This was a long day,” Shannon said as he held the passenger door open for her and helped her into the truck.

“Way, way too long,” he agreed emphatically, not sure she meant what he did—that the day had dragged by because he hadn't been with her…

Once Shannon was settled, he shut the door and rushed around the front end of the truck, nearly bounding behind the wheel and starting the engine. Then he put it into gear and headed out, deciding as he did that he wasn't going to beat around the bush.

So, with a glance in her direction, he said, “I missed you so much today that I screwed up everything I tried to do. I nearly ran into the back of Chase's car tonight
following you here because I was looking at you instead of the taillights. I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night and while I was doing that I figured something out. I figured out what I want for Christmas.”

“I hope it's what I got you, because I don't think there's any twenty-four-hour shopping in Northbridge,” Shannon joked.

But Dag merely looked over at her and said, “I want you, Shannon.”

Her eyebrows formed two perfect arches over her eyes and he could see that she didn't know what to say. But that was okay. He'd known this would shock her. It shocked him. But that didn't deter him. In fact he liked that he knew her well enough already to have predicted this response and it just made him smile.

“How long did your parents know each other before they realized what they had together?” he asked.

“My father said it was love-at-first-sight for him. My mother said it took her ten or fifteen minutes. But I think that was a joke…”

“Maybe it wasn't…”

Dag had to look back at the road, but he went on talking. “Here's how it is for me—I love Northbridge, I really do. I love Northbridge as much as I loved hockey. Knowing the end of my career would put me back here was the only thing that got me through. But now there's you and I have to tell you that when I think about being anywhere in the world—including Northbridge—
without
you, it isn't where I want to be.”

Another glance at her showed him the perplexed expression on her face, but still he was undaunted.

“What we've had since we met hasn't been like anything I've ever had with anyone else—there's never been this kind of instant connection, as if I've stumbled into
the one person I was honestly intended to be with. You know what you said about the guys in your life? About how part of what told you they were wrong for you was that you didn't care when you
didn't
see them?”

“I remember…”

“Well, I never realized it before, but the same has been true for me with every other woman in my life. Until you.”

He had to brake for a stop sign and, despite the fact that there wasn't any traffic to keep him there, he stayed so he could look at her again to say, “I wasn't kidding when I said I hate not seeing you for even an hour—I
hate
it. There's never been this… I'm not even sure how to put it… This feeling like nothing really matters unless I'm doing it with you. Or for you. And then there was last night…last night was off the Richter scale.”

He watched her smile just barely, as if the memory of their night together was so remarkable for her, too, that she couldn't help it. And that gave him the courage to say, “I think it's been the same for you…”

He finally drove on, giving her a moment to tell him that he was wrong, that she didn't have feelings that were anything like what he was describing.

But instead, in a quiet voice, she said, “It has been different for me than anything has ever been with anyone else. But—”

“I know,” he said to stop her, guessing what she was going to say. “You want a bigger life than Northbridge has to offer. And you should have it. So I've been thinking, and if you want to be the first woman on Mars, I'm willing to be the first man—if that's what it takes to be with you. If you decide to invest in your friend's school and live and work in Beverly Hills, I'll see if I can coach hockey somewhere there—”