A Season Of Miracles

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A Season Of Miracles Page 17

by Christine Michels


  With the Lings’ suggestions and her own ideas in mind, Devon quickly sketched a rough idea of what she believed would work best for the stained-glass panels and then opened the case of pastels. Only when she had the design in color could she truly assess whether or not her artistic conception would conform to the medium of glass in the way she envisioned it.

  Slowly, an oriental dragon in flight began to take shape on the page, flowing from the tips of her fingers almost magically as the pastels brought its scaly, multi-hued body to life

  Without consciously realizing she was doing it, as she sketched, Devon contemplated the problems facing her Work always helped her to see things more clearly. This time, though, she wasn’t certain that it was a blessing, for when she thought about it, it seemed that almost every relationship she’d ever developed was in some kind of upheaval.

  Her son rarely spoke to her except to argue. Her brother blamed her, to a certain extent, for their father’s continued censure of him. Her ex-fiancé didn’t want to accept her decision to end their relationship. Her husband had unexpectedly reentered her life, but was in so many ways unrecognizable that she no longer knew how she felt about him. And finally, there was her father. She had no idea what she was going to do about his interference in her life, or even if she should do anything, but she was certainly disturbed by it. Perhaps Geoff would have some suggestions.

  Geoff arrived at six, just in time to say good-night to the kids before they left with their grandmother As the shouted goodbyes and see-yas faded to silence, Geoff eyes found Devon’s. “So it’s just us tonight?” he asked in that silk-on-sandstone voice that never failed to caress Devon’s nerve endings.

  Abruptly paralyzed by the possibilities his words conjured, she could only nod as she began to fuss with the sketches she’d brought into the kitchen with her when her mother had arrived.

  “Why don’t we order in then, instead of cooking?” Geoff suggested. “Or have you started something already?”

  She shook her head. “No, I haven’t started anything I was just thinking about throwing together a zucchini and cheddar casserole. What would you like to order?”

  “Chinese?” he suggested.

  She smiled, remembering the shock it had been the first time he’d suggested Chinese food. “Sure,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any I’ll just go put my things away and then I’ll order.”

  “Take your time. I’ll order and call you when everything is ready if you like”

  She hesitated, unused to sharing the responsibility for meal preparations after so much time alone But there was certainly no reason not to accept his offer. “All right ” She began to leave the room, but ..it seemed strange to leave everything up to Geoff “You’re sure you don’t want me to set the table?”

  He met her gaze with an intense unreadable expression and then said, “I can manage ”

  “Of course.” She nodded and left the room.

  The first thing Geoff did was order the food. Then he set about making preparations for his evening alone with Devon. In his campaign to get her to let him back into her life, perhaps even on a permanent basis, he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity that had arisen. Their unexpected isolation for the evening would provide an excellent chance to get to know each other better and to further the developing intimacy between them.

  When he called Devon forty-five minutes later, her reaction was everything he could have hoped for. “Oh, Geoff.” she said in a choked voice as she stared at the candlelit table with its white linen cloth. “It’s beautiful. Like...”

  “Like what?” he prompted when she fell silent.

  “Like our last anniversary together. You... Every anniversary you arranged a candlelight dinner with wine and soft music.”

  Geoff frowned inwardly, not entirely certain he liked the thought of competing with the ghost of himself. He pulled out her chair, waiting for Devon to seat herself, but she hesitated. “Is something wrong?”

  She looked up. “I feel underdressed.”

  He considered her, allowing his gaze to roam leisurely over her shapely legs clad in black hose, up to her black denim skirt and over her blue blouse. He liked the blouse. It clung in all the right places. “You look fine to me.”

  Perhaps his appreciation was apparent in his tone, for she flushed slightly. “All right.” Sitting, she pulled her chair forward slightly and then placed her napkin in her lap.

  “So,” Geoff said as he took his own seat, “why don’t you tell me a bit more about some of the things I used to do, or things we did together, so I won’t keep surprising myself. What kinds of things did I do that you didn’t like? Or was I a perfect husband up until those last few months?”

  Devon raised an incredulous brow as she considered him, and then laughed. “Hardly perfect. Do you really want to know about the things you did that irritated me?”

  He nodded and reached for the bottle that he’d found in the wine rack and had put on the table to breathe. The Pinot Blanc wine was made at the Calona Vineyards right here in Kelowna, according to the label, and he’d thought it appropriate to the evening. “And, to be fair, I want to know about the things that you did that irritated me, too. You can alternate.”

  She smiled and held up her glass to accept his silent offer of the wine as the soft dinner music flowed around them “All right. Let’s see.” She stared thoughtfully at her wine for a moment. “I think one of the most irritating things you used to do was bring home guests for dinner upon an hour’s notice. I can’t count the number of times I wanted to kill you for that.” She softened her words with a smile. “Now something about me, right?” She looked at him questioningly and he nodded. “Well, that’s tougher. It’s much easier to overlook one’s own faults” After a moment of hesitation she said, “I guess I’d have to say that my housekeeping habits, or lack thereof, irritated you most. My house is always clean, but usually a bit untidy That bothered you occasionally, though I never understood why. You certainly weren’t the neatest person in the world yourself.”

  Geoff passed her the bowl of beef chop suey. “How so?”

  “Well, for example, after a long day at work, you used to love to take off your socks while you were watching television in the family room, but you would just leave them there expecting me to pick up after you. Finally, determined to teach you a lesson, I left them there. At the end of a week when you had no clean socks in your drawer because they were still all lying on the floor next to your chair, you asked me where they were and I told you. You were furious with me, but it was a rare occasion after that when you forgot to put your socks in the laundry.”

  Geoff shook his head. “I can see where that would have been irritating.” Then, he looked at her. “You’ll be happy to know that I am now a much tidier person ”

  “Hmm,” she said noncommittally. “Well, I pick up after myself and to a certain extent after the children, but I’m not especially tidy or organized. I have a habit of carrying things around with me and setting them down, then forgetting where I left them” She shrugged “I’m forever finding mail in the freezer because I tend to read my mail at the same tune that I’m trying to decide what to make for supper.”

  Geoff thought about that for a moment It was a bit weird, but it struck him as more humorous than annoying “I can live with that.”

  She looked at him then, and her eyes brimmed with an emotion that Geoff couldn’t interpret. “Can you?” she whispered before hastily averting her eyes. He realized that his inadvertent word choice had made her contemplate the possibility of them having a life together again.

  Not knowing what to say that wouldn’t seem somehow presumptuous, he poured more wine for each of them and they ate in silence for a few moments “Tell me what kinds of things we did together.. besides dancing Where did we go?”

  Devon shrugged “We hiked sometimes, and fished, but if you’re asking about holidays we never really had one. When we were younger, we couldn’t afford
one And, as we got older, you could never seem to take the time away from business ”

  “What was your dream holiday?”

  She smiled wistfully. “I always dreamed of us going on an Alaskan cruise.”

  Geoff nodded. “Sounds nice.”

  Devon stared at him. “You never used to think so. Your idea of the place for a holiday was a tropical island.”

  “I guess I’ve changed quite a bit, huh?”

  Devon nodded. “It’s...hard to get used to sometimes But, it’s made me aware of how much we all are the sum of our experiences in life And, without the memory of those events shaping our perceptions... well, we’re different people”

  Geoff considered her “So, if the accident and living alone have changed me, what about you? How have you changed in the last couple of years?”

  Devon thoughtfully sipped her wine before responding. “I guess I’d have to say that I’m less dependent on the men in my life. I can change the washer in a tap, clean out the rain gutters on the house, or change a tire. I even replaced the belt in my dryer when it broke—though I almost gave up on that one and I don’t think I’d attempt it again.”

  Had money been that tight? he wondered. “Why didn’t you call a repairman?”

  “Because I’m cheap,” she admitted with a self-deprecating smile and a shrug. “I didn’t want to pay someone to do something I could probably do myself, so I tried it. If I’d found I couldn’t do it, I would have called. But, as it turned out, I managed fairly well on my own.”

  “So, in effect, you’ve gained independence.”

  Devon nodded and rose to begin clearing the table

  They were loading the dishwasher when she said, “I think maybe we should start going through some of the things in your office in more detail. There may be something on some of those disks we found. What do you think? I mean we really need to figure out who this guy is who’s after you. Right?”

  She seemed very anxious to find something to do that would keep them busy. Aloud he said, “If you Like,” but he wasn’t fooled as to her motivation.

  “Oh, damn!” she said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

  “What?”

  “The sink is plugged again. And I’ve dumped enough drain cleaner down there in the last month to eat through just about anything. I don’t know what’s wrong with it ”

  If it was the kind of clog that didn’t respond to drain cleaner, then the only option was to open the drainpipe under the sink. “If you have some tools, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Would you?” she asked. When he nodded she said, “The toolbox is in the garage. I’ll get it.”

  Half an hour later, Geoff, his once-white shirt grimy and dirty, crawled out from beneath the sink. “I think that’s got it. We’ll run some water and see what happens.”

  The water ran down the drain without problem. “Oh, that’s wonderful,” Devon said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. I’ll just go clean up and then we can get to work in the office,” he commented. They’d work with just the light of the desk lamp. Maybe he’d put on some soft music. There had to be a way to create a romantic setting in an office; he’d just have to be inventive.

  “Sure. I’ll bring in some coffee in a moment”

  A few moments later, cups in hand, Devon made her way down the hall to the office only to find that Geoff was not there. His new notebook computer was sitting on the desk, however, its backlit screen glowing, so he must have been there long enough to turn it on.

  Frowning thoughtfully, Devon set the cups on a corner of the desk and contemplated going in search of him. If he was still just washing up, she certainly didn’t want to disturb him. For more reasons than she cared to acknowledge But what if he was having another one of his headaches? Ever since she’d witnessed the complete debilitation he suffered when in the throes of one of the headaches that he didn’t treat promptly with medication, she couldn’t help worrying about a reoccurrence. A moment later, when Geoff still hadn’t appeared, worry won out.

  The main floor lavatory light was on. “Geoff?” she called There was no answer She moved toward the lighted doorway, and then froze in her tracks. Geoff was not writhing on the floor, but... She swallowed and stared.

  He had removed his shirt and was bent over the sink, dunking his head in a basin of water. Unconsciously, Devon lifted her fingers to her mouth to stifle a gasp as she truly saw the extent of the scarring on his back for the first time and imagined the pain he must have endured.

  A livid ridged and shiny scar an inch wide and two feet long stretched across his muscle-sculpted back from left to right beginning behind his left ear, moving across his neck beneath his long hair, and then snaking down across his right shoulder blade. No wonder he wore his hair longer in the back now than he ever had in the past: he wanted to conceal the part of the scar that would have been visible above his shirt collar.

  In the next instant, he turned to reach for a towel and caught sight of her in the doorway Their eyes clashed and held. Despite herself, Devon’s breathing quickened as her pulse rate elevated. Of their own volition it seemed, her eyes began an exploration of his body, moving downward to caress his strong neck, tracing the intricate path of a couple of escaping water droplets. Moving down over the firm contours of his hair-roughened chest. Grazing the flat surface of his ridged abdomen. Roaming lower to admire his narrow hips and the rather prominent male bulge in his jeans. Down over his firm thighs. She told herself that she was seeking the man she’d married beneath the layers that characterized this man but, truth be told, she simply liked what she saw...very much.

  She always had.

  Chapter 11

  “Devon?”

  She started slightly, met his gaze again, and then moved forward. Grasping his arm, she turned him slightly, and then lifted shaking fingers to examine again the huge, ugly scar that slashed its way across his back. “Do you know what did this?” she asked in a tone barely above a whisper.

  He shrugged. “Probably a piece of sharp metal when I was thrown from the plane.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t bleed to death.”

  He turned to face her then, catching her fingers in his hand before she could lower them. His touch was warm, comforting. “Yeah. Old Bill stitched me up when he found me. Without his help, I would have died. There’s no question of that.”

  Devon lifted her eyes to meet his “We should send him something. Thank him in some way.”

  “I already have.”

  “Oh.” The atmosphere between them thickened and Devon suddenly became conscious that she was standing much closer to Geoff than was wise considering the power of the magnetism between them. She tried to tug her fingers from his grasp, but he tightened his hold A little desperately, she sought a topic of conversation, something mundane to distract him, to distract them both. Her eyes lit on the still dripping waves of his hair. “What were you doing?”

  It was obvious that her question had not distracted him in the least, for his reply had a preoccupied tone. “I was starting to get a headache. I took a pill to ward it off, but I thought some cold water might help.”

  Wanly, against her better judgement, Devon lowered her gaze once more to meet his It was a mistake. Her pulse quickened at the sight of the heat in his eyes, the promise glowing there, and she sought desperately for the thread of the conversation. “And did it?” she whispered.

  She never received an answer.

  Without quite knowing how it happened, she found herself in his arms. Devon gasped at the almost electric shock of their bodies coming together, the heat of the contact, the texture of his naked flesh beneath her palms. He tangled a fist in her hair, tilting her head, as he captured her lips with his and slowly slid his tongue into the warm wet recesses of her mouth. Devon’s heart leapt in response. He kissed her slowly, deeply, with a lazy confidence that made the act as intimate as sex. He was staking a claim without words, telling her with slow, deep strokes of his tongue, that sh
e was his. And Devon, despite the warning bells clanging in her mind, felt desire rising up within her, waging a cunning war against her control.

  His embrace tightened, flattening her breasts against the hardened planes of his chest, pressing the evidence of his arousal against her abdomen, and molten heat sluiced through her. She moaned at her body’s capitulation. Dammit! What was it about this new version of her husband that made him so impossible to resist?

  Of their own accord her hands rose to his shoulders, her nails forming tiny crescent marks in his skin as her fingers curled helplessly. His hands cupped her bottom, lifting her, pressing her gently against the thickened shaft of his arousal and her senses exploded “Geoff—” She gasped as his mouth released hers to trail gentle kisses over her cheek and temple.

  “Hmm?” He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck, to feather soft kisses over that sensitized area. With more finesse than she remembered, he unfastened her blouse and slid it off her shoulders, discarding it carelessly on the floor but she was too far gone in sensation to care.

  “Oh, Geoff—” Her eyes drifted closed. It’s too soon, cried the voice of reason in her mind. You’re not ready for this. But she ignored it, for once again she found her body holding reason hostage and this time she had no desire to fight its demands. She needed this More than anything else, at this moment in time, she needed... Geoff.

  With that admission, came freedom

  She wanted him. She wanted to feel his heated skin against hers She wanted to feel his rippling muscles beneath her palms She wanted to feel his hardness inside of her.

  Lifting her hands, she began to explore the oh-so familiar contours of his torso, to run her fingers through the silky hair on his chest, over the washboard ridges of his abdomen until she came to his waistband. His hands were there to halt her progress.

 

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