by Rita Herron
“I’m going with you to see your mother.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “The hell you are.”
“You said she blamed you for your brother’s arrest. Well, she’s not going to blame you for his death.”
“I killed him, Rosanna.”
“Yes, to protect me. To give justice to Natalie and Terrance Shaver and that waiter.” Her voice rose in conviction. “And to save all the other victims he would have murdered if he’d continued.”
“I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Rosanna. Especially not with my mother.”
She grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. “I love you, dammit. And I won’t let you do this alone.”
Anguish darkened his eyes. “Rosanna—”
“I don’t expect you to love me back. I know you think I’m evil like my father said, like your brother was.”
He knotted his hands into fists, confused. “We all have good and bad in us, Rosanna. But we make choices. You are nothing like my brother. You used your gift to protect yourself, to save me. Johnny used his to inflict pain and hurt others.”
“But you had to kill him to save me,” she said in a strangled whisper. “And I won’t let you beat yourself up with guilt because you saved me. I won’t let your mother—”
He cut her off, “Rosanna, you were a little child. For God’s sake, you protected yourself the only way you knew how.”
“Just like you did today, Bradford.”
Anguish lined his face, and he closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, his shoulders shaking with grief. “My mother will never understand that.”
“Then she’s losing the best thing that she has in her life,” Rosanna said softly.
Bradford opened his eyes, and something changed, softened in his features. “Don’t you understand? You’re better off, safer without me being around? My brother tried to kill you today to hurt me.”
“But I’m alive and here, and you saved me.” She pressed her hand to his cheek. “I’m just sorry your brother forced you to kill him. But that was his sickness.”
His expression twisted with turmoil, then a low, throaty, tormented sound erupted from deep within him. “I’d do it again to protect you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Because you’re a good man.”
“No. Because I hated him when he touched you. I couldn’t stand to see him hurt you.” His eyes welled with emotion. “I didn’t care if he died, because I had to save you.”
He choked, a terrible, anguished sound that broke her heart. Then he pulled her to him and his body shook with grief. She slid her arms around him, held him tight, felt his anguish inside her.
A few seconds later, he raised his head, looked into her eyes, and she saw love shining in the pain-filled depths.
“Rosanna…” His muscles bunched beneath her hands as he cradled her against his chest and kissed her. The kiss was full of turbulent emotions, passion, and the hunger that she’d felt the moment she’d laid eyes on him.
Finally he whispered the words she’d longed to hear all her life, the words she didn’t think he would ever say. “I love you, Rosanna.”
With a whispered sigh, he kissed her again, a tender kiss that made her heart swell with more love than she’d ever known existed.
And she knew that destiny had brought the two of them together.
Epilogue
Bradford hadn’t wanted to believe in magic or paranormal powers or love.
But standing in the church, looking at Rosanna in that shimmery wedding gown and seeing the undeniable hunger and affection in her eyes, both directed at him, had changed his mind.
Their visit to his mother had gone as he’d expected. She’d been devastated to learn that her baby boy was dead. Shocked to see the photos of Johnny’s latest victims. And somber when Rosanna had pleaded his case and showed her the burns Johnny had caused on her body.
But as they’d walked away, Rosanna had slipped her hand into his, and he had finally realized how much she loved him. She’d been so unselfish that she was willing to let his mother blame her for Johnny’s death instead of Bradford. He’d known then that he was going to marry her.
Johnny had sealed his own coffin when he’d committed murder. Rosanna had helped him accept that fact and forgive himself, even if his mother couldn’t.
In turn, he had helped Rosanna accept that she wasn’t to blame for her father’s death. Both her parents had abandoned her in their own way when they should have protected her. He also wanted her to know that she could use her ability around him; she didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore.
He not only loved her, but he would also protect her with his life for as long as he lived.
The wedding march began, and Rosanna started down the aisle toward him, a bouquet of calla lillies in her hand, and he smiled, anxious to make her his wife.
Fall flowers scented the air, the crisp cool weather a welcome reprieve from the devastating heat of the summer. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting the church in various shades of muted colors.
His captain, Detective Fox and several of the other officers lined the pews. Some of Rosanna’s friends from her shop and two women she’d befriended in the research experiment occupied other rows.
Fox had managed to get Parker released from rehab for the day, and he sat in a wheelchair, still bandaged and struggling to recover, but alive and grateful Bradford had found the arsonist and solved the case.
Another person his brother had hurt and a reminder that Johnny had set his own collision course with death by starting those fires and murdering innocent people.
Although he’d hoped his mother might come, the front pew designated for family sat empty for both of them.
Then Rosanna mouthed that she loved him, and his heart swelled with emotions. From this day forward, they would be each other’s family. Forever.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1011-4
UP IN FLAMES
Copyright © 2007 by Rita B. Herron
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com