Jed grumbled.
"Yes, please, come with us." Grace glanced in the back seat after Rafe and Troy got in. "Troy, are you all right?"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm okay." He bowed his head. "Hey, Ms. Beaumont, I'm sure sorry about what happened. It was stupid of me to ever go to work at the warehouse. If I'd known what would come of it, I'd never…" He swallowed and cleared his throat.
"If you're truly sorry, go home to Elsa and prove to her what a good person you can be. You owe it to her to straighten up your act permanently."
"Yes, ma'am. I swear that's exactly what I'm going to do."
* * *
When Jim told her that Booth was dead, Charmaine didn't quite believe him. How was it possible for such evil to die so quickly and easily?
"I want to see his body," she said.
"Honey, you don't want to do that."
"I won't believe he's dead if I don't see him."
"All right," Jim said. "I'll see if I can arrange it. I'll go with you to the morgue, but once that's done, I'm getting you out of Louisiana as fast as my boss can arrange things."
"You're coming with me, aren't you?" She clung to him, knowing that without him, she couldn't make it, that her life wouldn't be worth living.
"Let them try to stop me." He kissed her temple. "I've already told my boss that I'm resigning from the Bureau as soon as possible. He told me that he'd allow me to live under federal protection with you until after the trials of Booth's associates are over, then they'll arrange for us to go into the Witness Protection Program. We'll have new identities and new lives."
"We'll be just ordinary people, with ordinary lives." She sighed, loving the thought of being Jim's wife. "I guess I won't have to get used to calling you Jim, will I, since you'll have another name when we relocate."
"If you can call me husband and lover and maybe the father of your children, I don't care what other name you call me."
"Children? You—you want children?"
"If you do. Maybe only one. A little girl who looks just like you."
Charmaine cried; tears cascaded down her cheeks. "Oh, Jim … my sweet, sweet darling. You really want me—" she thumped her chest "—me—to be the mother of your child."
"Of course, I do. I love you, Charmaine. I think you're beautiful and smart and brave … fun to be with and—I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."
She laid her head on his chest and said the first real prayer she'd uttered since she was a kid, thanking God for bringing this fine, loving man into her life.
* * *
The lights inside and outside Belle Foret shone brightly, welcoming its mistress home. When Jed leaned over into the front seat of the car and scooped Grace up into his arms, Laverna and Nolan came rushing out onto the veranda. Jed carried Grace up the steps and into the house, the servants following, both making a big fuss over Grace.
"I'm all right," she assured them. "Really, I'm fine."
"Where are your clothes?" Laverna asked. "And your poor face."
"My clothes don't matter and the bruises on my face will fade in a few weeks."
"Should I go upstairs and run you a hot bath?" Laverna headed toward the staircase.
"Don't bother," Jed said. "I'll take care of Miss Grace."
"Yes, sir." Laverna backed away and gave her husband a knowing look.
Jed ignored everything and everyone, concentrating only on Grace. She clung to him, her head on his chest, her arm around his neck. He'd come damn close to losing her tonight. Although he would have killed Booth to save Grace—had actually pulled the trigger—he was grateful that Dante Moran had acted first, that he could tell himself it was the FBI agent's bullet that had ended Booth's life. As much as he hated Booth, the man had still been his uncle. And there had been a time he'd cared about him. Despite growing up as the heir to a Mafia kingdom and later having spent years as a member of the Delta Force, Jed found that he still possessed a conscience.
The minute Jed entered Grace's bedroom, he slammed the door closed with his foot, marched into the bathroom, set her on the vanity stool, then turned on the shower. He tended to her with the utmost gentleness, removing her tattered slip, her bra and panties, grimacing at the bruises on her body where she'd been manhandled by Booth's goons and struck repeatedly by Booth himself.
"Don't think about it," Grace said. "It's over. He's dead. He can never hurt me or you or anyone else ever again." Grace caressed Jed's cheek. "Not unless you allow him to continue to influence your life."
Not saying a word, Jed stripped, took Grace's hand and led her into the huge shower stall. She went with him. No second thoughts. No hesitation. She knew that she would follow this man anywhere. She would trust him now and forever—with her body, her heart, her very soul. Like a dutiful caretaker, Jed washed Grace, shampooing and rinsing her hair, lathering her body and taking special care to be gentle with her. As he sprayed away the soap bubbles, he kissed each bruise and each tiny knife prick; then when he had cleaned her, he helped her out of the shower and dried her body and her hair. As she sat on the vanity stool and watched him, Jed dried himself. She couldn't take her eyes off him.
He lifted her into his arms. "Let me make love to you."
She smiled softly. "I want that. I want us to make love." She kissed him. "I need you, Jed. I need you so very much."
He placed her in the middle of her bed and lay down beside her. She reached for him, but he grasped her hands and placed them on the pillow above her head, then leaned over and captured her mouth in a ravaging kiss. Her hungry response ignited his passion even more. Whispering hot, erotic words of urgency and expectation, Jed caressed and kissed her from forehead to the instep of each foot. It seemed he was trying to memorize every inch of her body. And when she knew she couldn't bear another moment of his arousing attention, she touched him intimately, which gained her his immediate attention.
"Make love to me now, Jed," she told him breathlessly. "I'm aching so. I need you inside me."
He pulled himself over her, bracing himself with his elbows, keeping part of his weight off her slender body. "Don't let me hurt you."
"The only way you'll hurt me is if you make me wait."
He took her in one fast, deep thrust, embedding himself fully inside her. She gasped as he filled her completely, his shaft large and hard. Lifting her hips, meeting him lunge for lunge, she gripped his large shoulders and gave herself over to the pleasure. They mated in a frenzy, both wild with need. And when she felt herself on the verge of release, she slid her hands down his back and dug her fingers into his taut buttocks, urging him to hurry. "Faster," she panted. "Harder and faster."
He jackhammered into her. "Like this." Sweat glistened on his forehead.
"Yes," she cried out as fulfillment claimed her. "Yes, yes."
Minutes later, he jetted into her, groaning in the throes of his own climax.
Jed slid off her and onto his back. He lay there beside her, staring up at the ceiling. Grace cuddled against him, then threw her arm across his waist and nuzzled his neck.
"We're good together," she told him. "You know that, don't you?"
"In bed, we're good together." He stroked her naked hip. "Great sex isn't a problem for us, but—"
She popped her index finger over his lips to silence him. "Do you love me?"
"Do I—how can you ask me such a question?"
"You've never told me you love me."
"And you want to hear the words, want to hear me say it." He rose up, leaned over her, looked her directly in the eyes and said, "I love you, Grace. More than anything."
She grinned. "That's what I thought, but I needed to know for sure. After all, when a woman is planning on spending the rest of her life with a man, she needs to know from the very beginning that he loves her."
"What do you mean—spending the rest of her life … the rest of your life with … Grace, you can't mean that you actually want me to be a part of your life."
Sighing contentedly, sh
e lifted her arms around his neck. "Only for the next fifty or sixty years. Just until we have great-grandchildren running all over Belle Foret and they bury us side by side in the family cemetery."
"Are you by any chance asking me to marry you?" Jed's gaze locked with hers.
"Would that be so bad? You and me and two or three babies and—"
He kissed her.
When he lifted his head from hers, he said, "You know who I am, what I am, what I come from, and you still want to marry me and have my babies?"
"Uh-huh."
"Blondie, you must be crazy," he told her, humor in his deep voice.
"I am," she said. "Crazy in love with you."
"Then before you come to your senses, I'm going to accept your proposal." He flipped over, pulled her on top of him and held her firmly against him. "No big wedding. Something small and private. Something just for us. Okay?"
"Sounds perfect to me. How about a week from Saturday?"
"In a hurry?"
"Could be. After all, we didn't use any protection when we made love, so I could already be pregnant."
"In that case, let's get married right away and I'll forget all about buying that super-size box of condoms. If you're not already pregnant, you will be by the time our honeymoon is over."
Grace lay there in Jed's arms, happy beyond belief. Four years ago her life had changed drastically in the span of a few hours. Now once again her life had altered completely, but this time for the better. Nothing could have prepared her for falling in love with Jed Tyree. The passion she felt overwhelmed her.
"I love you, Jed. You're everything to me. For now and forever."
"I feel exactly the same way about you, Blondie. Now and forever."
* * *
Epilogue
« ^
Grace sat in the ornate white wicker rocker on the back veranda, the twilight sky a canvas of glorious color. She loved this time of day. Early evening. And she loved this season—springtime—when the world was fresh and alive, bursting with new life. She covered her protruding belly with her hand and caressed the mound that contained her precious daughter. Elizabeth Ann was due to arrive in less than three weeks. The pink nursery, filled with lace and frills and dozens of dolls, awaited the birth of Grace and Jed's third child.
Life was good. So very good. There wasn't a day that passed that Grace didn't thank the good Lord for her many blessings. She would never forget Emma Lynn and Dean. They would be a part of her heart forever. And to this day, she still missed her father. But in the six years she'd been married to Jed, she had known true joy. Happiness beyond measure.
Looking back—which she seldom did these days—she thought about those weeks and months following her kidnapping and Booth Fortier's death. Jed and she had married a few weeks later and he'd been at her side, sharing his strength with her, during the dark days that followed. Governor Lew Miller had been impeached, arrested and found guilty of numerous crimes. It was doubtful he'd ever be released from prison. The crime syndicate in Louisiana had taken a nearly fatal blow, but even she knew that nothing would totally eradicate the Southern Mafia. What had been the most difficult for Grace was accepting the fact that Hudson Prentice had been an accomplice in Dean's and her father's murders. She had trusted him, believed him to be a true friend, and he had betrayed her in the worst way possible. He had written to her from prison, begging for forgiveness. She had burned his letters and never responded. Hudson, who had confessed everything, was serving a life sentence, as was Oliver Neville.
Grace watched Jed romping in the backyard with their sons. Their firstborn, five-year-old Byram was tall and lean, with his father's hazel-brown eyes and the same white-blond hair Grace had as a child. Dark-haired, three-year-old Lance squealed with boyish laughter as Jed scooped him up in his arms and sat him on his shoulders. He waved at his mother, his big blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
During the past six years, Grace had spent a great deal of time on maternity leave and whenever she returned to work—even part-time—Lois, their nanny, accompanied her to Sheffield Media, Inc. headquarters with both boys in tow. Byram would start kindergarten in the fall, but by that time, Elizabeth Ann would be spending a great deal of time with her mommy at work. Of course, Grace never could have managed juggling motherhood with her CEO responsibilities without Jed's support. After a year of training at her side, shortly before Byram was born, she had nominated Jed for the presidency of Sheffield Media, Inc. and the board had wholeheartedly and unanimously approved.
With Lance on his shoulders and Byram holding his hand, Jed marched Grace's men toward her, all three smiling as they approached.
"Daddy says we can make ice cream tonight," Byram said. "Can we, Mommy? Please, please, please."
"Please, Mommy," Lance added, not to be ignored.
Jed swung Lance around as he sat down in the wicker chair beside Grace, then planted his younger son in his lap. "Yeah, Mommy, we all want ice cream."
"Byram, go tell Nolan to get out the ice cream freezer," Grace told her elder son. "And ask Laverna to prepare the recipe for vanilla—" She paused when she noted Byram's frown. "Let's make that strawberry. I believe we have fresh berries, don't we?"
"Yea!" Byram jumped up and down. "Strawberry is my favorite!" He raced up the back veranda and inside through the kitchen door.
Jed leaned over and kissed Grace. Caught between them, Lance squirmed, then when they parted, he held out his arms to Grace, who grabbed him and hauled him over into her lap. His fat little hand patted her swollen stomach.
"Baby," Lance said.
"Baby sister," Grace replied and placed her hand over his.
With Byram at his side, Nolan brought out the old crank-style ice cream freezer and put it on the edge of the porch. "Go get your brother," Nolan said, "and you boys can help me bring out the ice and salt."
Lance scooted down off Grace's lap and ran to Nolan, who took the child's hand and headed back inside, with both boys in tow. He stopped in the doorway and said, "Miss Joy just telephoned. She's back from her shopping trip to New Orleans and said she's got a ton of baby clothes she wants to bring by. Wanted to know if tonight was all right."
"I'll phone her in a few minutes," Grace said.
Jed stood, held out his hands and lifted a rather awkward Grace to her feet, then he sat back down and pulled Grace onto his lap. "Have I told you today how much I love you and how happy I am being your husband?"
Grace draped her arm around his shoulders. He laid his open palm over her belly.
"That works both ways, you know. I love you. And I love being your wife."
"Who would have ever believed that you and I would be so perfect for each other?"
"We, my darling, were a match made in heaven. I've always believed that Daddy and Dean and Emma Lynn sent you to me." She kissed Jed. "I love you. You and the boys and this little girl—" Grace laid her hand over Jed's where it rested on her stomach "—are my life."
Jed cupped her chin in the valley between his thumb and forefinger. "It's all right, you know, that you still love Dean and Emma Lynn. Your loving them doesn't take anything away from me and our children. You have such a big heart that you have more than enough love for all of us."
Tears gathered in Grace's eyes. "Jed Tyree, see what you've done—you've made me cry." She laid her head on his shoulder and cuddled against him. "Have I told you lately what a wonderful man you are? The absolutely best husband and father in the world."
"Ah, Blondie…" Jed kissed her. Passionately.
A couple of minutes later, Byram and Lance came racing out of the house, then skidded to a halt beside the wicker chair.
"Shelby Lou Perkins, who's in my Sunday school class, says that's how babies get here," Byram said. "When mommies and daddies do all that kissing and hugging and stuff."
"We're getting a baby sister," Lance said proudly.
"Yeah, I know," Byram replied. "That's because our Mommy and Daddy do a lot of that stuff. I guess we're goin
g to wind up with a whole bunch of baby brothers and sisters."
It was all Jed and Grace could do not to laugh out loud. With two little Mr. Know-it-alls, life was never dull at Belle Foret. As a matter of fact, Grace thought, life was just about perfect.
* * * * *
Grace Under Fire Page 27