“Don’t look so sad,” Ryan teased. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
She grinned at him. “I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Twelve
Ryan kept expecting to wake up from a dream. Instead, each brush of Maggie’s hands over his chest, each deeply satisfying kiss, felt very real. The roar of his blood, the heat generated by each caress, the demanding need, couldn’t possibly have been matched by a mere dream, no matter how sweet.
He opened his eyes, saw the flesh-and-blood Maggie be fore him and knew the greatest sense of satisfaction he’d ever felt in his life. This—she—was real. She was in his arms, just as she was in his heart.
For better or for worse.
Right now, though, he could only think of the positives, of the way the light turned her pale skin a soft gold, the way her curves fit him, the way she came alive with each touch, the way her back arched when he cupped her breast in the palm of his hand.
There was nothing halfway about Maggie. She was open and giving, and demanded as much as she gave.
Ryan lifted his head and gazed into her sea-green eyes. “You are a revelation.”
“Oh?” She eyed him with sleepy sensuality. “What were you expecting?”
“Caution. Restraint. A hint of modesty, perhaps.”
She laughed. “From me? I’ve been all but begging for this moment for weeks now. There wasn’t much caution or restraint in that.”
He gave her a sheepish shrug. “I honestly thought it was all talk.”
“Are you disappointed that it wasn’t?” she asked, a faint hint of worry in her eyes.
Ryan pressed a kiss at the base of her throat, felt the quick flash of heat beneath his lips. “Absolutely not. An eager woman can be a real turn-on, especially when it’s unexpected.”
She grinned at that. “Then you won’t mind if I do this,” she said, reaching for the snap on his jeans. “I think this break has lasted long enough.”
Ryan jerked as her knuckles skimmed his abdomen. With her gaze locked with his, she lowered the zipper on his jeans, then slid them down his legs. He kicked them aside.
“Anything else you’re anxious to strip off me?” he inquired in a lazy tone, curious to see what she’d do next.
“Those shorts have to go sooner or later,” she said with a considering look that sent his temperature soaring. She lifted her gaze to his, a half smile on her lips. “But not just yet.”
Ryan couldn’t breathe. “Oh?”
“Don’t think I don’t know the fine art of building anticipation, Ryan Devaney. Haven’t I been patient for weeks now, while you’ve been making up your mind? Hasn’t it almost driven me to distraction?”
“Really?” he asked, pleased beyond measure that she’d been as anxious as he for this moment. “You’ve had your revenge, though. You’ve done your best to torment me every minute.”
“Well, of course I have,” she said smugly. “Isn’t that the point? How else was I to make you want me so desperately you’d forget all your silly reservations?”
His mood sobered at once at the teasing question. “They weren’t silly, Maggie. And I still have a slew of them.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight, you don’t. And tonight is all that matters. One night, Ryan.” She grinned. “And then possibly another.”
It was the give-an-inch-take-a-mile attitude with which he’d become increasingly familiar, and which had made him increasingly wary.
“I can’t promise tomorrow,” he said, needing to be clear about that even though he’d begun dreaming of weeks and months from now.
“Have I asked you to?” she inquired lightly.
“No,” he admitted. “But you deserve all the promises of tomorrow a man can make.”
“If it’s right, they’ll come in time,” she said readily. “For now, I think it’s best if we concentrate on the moment.”
She lifted her sweater over her head, then shimmied out of her jeans, revealing all the fancy, delicate lace he’d fantasized about. She might tend toward an unremarkable wardrobe of sedate jeans and sweaters, but beneath she clearly indulged her feminine side.
Her body was perfect with its narrow hips, long, long legs and breasts that filled the cups of her bra to overflowing. He could have stared at her forever, but she was having none of that. She moved closer, looped her arms around his neck and hooked one leg around his, bringing all that satiny skin and heat in contact with his own suddenly burning flesh.
“Make love to me, Ryan,” she whispered against his lips. “Now.”
He pushed aside the last nagging cautions, lifted her up and settled her on his bed. Then he stripped off his shorts and joined her, making quick work of getting rid of those remaining scraps of lace. For the moment he was content to explore every inch of her with lingering caresses, discovering the secrets of her body, his gaze locked on her expressive face as her arousal grew and her movements turned restless.
“Now,” she pleaded, her back arching, her hips lifting off the bed in time to the rhythm of his fingers probing deep inside her. “Please, Ryan. I want you inside me.”
“It’s okay,” he said as her body tensed. “Go with it, darlin’. Let it come.”
“But—” The rest of the protest was lost as the climax ripped through her.
Only when the last shudder had died away did he slowly enter her, thrusting deep, then waiting as her body adjusted to him. The welcoming heat wrapped itself around him, and her last fluttering contractions made him even harder.
Then, looking into her eyes, he began to move, the steady, pulsing rhythm as old as time as it built to a higher and higher peak. The wonder on Maggie’s face would have been enough, but there was more. There were the sweet cries deep in her throat, the demanding rise of her hips to meet his, the glow of perspiration on her skin as she strained to reach that elusive, final pinnacle. Her eyes drifted closed, as if to increase her concentration on the struggle, but Ryan was having none of that, not when they were so close to the end.
“Maggie, look at me,” he commanded. He needed to know that she was with him and no one else. He could feel her body starting to shudder, could feel his own tensing for one last thrust and an exquisite release. “Look at me!”
She opened her eyes just as the rush of his climax rocked through him. Her hips rose one last time, and then she, too, was catapulting over the brink,
The aftershocks seemed to go on forever. Ryan rolled on his back and pulled her on top of him, cradling her close, as his breathing finally slowed. Maggie was limp in his arms, her own breathing ragged.
Eventually she lifted her head and met his gaze. “That was…remarkable.”
Ryan grinned at the stunned note in her voice. “I told you I’d making coming upstairs worth your while.”
Her mouth gaped at the reminder, and then, to his shock, she began to laugh.
“What?” he asked, bemused by the reaction. He’d certainly found nothing to laugh about in the last hour or more.
“We came up for the condoms,” she reminded him.
A sense of dismay washed over him at the implication. “And forgot them,” he said slowly. “Oh, my God, Maggie, I’m sorry. It never crossed my mind.”
“Nor mine,” she reminded him.
“But I’m always responsible.” He raked a hand through his hair. What had he been thinking? Of course, that was precisely the problem, he hadn’t been thinking. Not with his brain, anyway. And the rest of his anatomy clearly wasn’t to be trusted. What the hell was he supposed to do if she got pregnant? He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—abandon her. But what kind of father could he possibly be? What kind of husband? All of the questions he’d spend a lifetime thinking he’d never have to deal with came crashing down around him, demanding answers.
Even as the questions set off panic, a tiny part of him marveled at the possibility that they had created a child together. The fear of committing to that—to Maggie—wasn’t nearly as horrendous as it would have been even days ago.
Maggie touched a finger to his brow. “Uh-oh. Worry lines. Stop it, Ryan. I’m not going to get pregnant.”
“You can’t possibly know that. People get pregnant all the time, even when they use protection.”
“Well, it won’t be your problem if I do,” she insisted, her jaw set stubbornly.
If that was meant to be reassuring, it failed miserably. Instead, it infuriated him. “And whose would it be? Is there someone in this bed I’m not aware of?”
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant. You’re trying to let me off the hook…again,” he said, all but shouting. “And let’s get one thing very clear, if there’s a baby, I’m responsible. It is my problem, and we’ll deal with it together. Understood?”
“I won’t have you trapped into a marriage you don’t want, Ryan,” she said, her voice cool. “That’s something you need to understand. Any baby we conceived wouldn’t be a problem, not to me. It would be a blessing.” She regarded him wistfully. “Do we have to fight about this now?”
“Isn’t it better to be clear about things now, rather than put them off till we’ve a crisis?” he asked.
“No,” she said emphatically. “Because I’ve just had the best night of my life, and you’re ruining it with all this talk of doom and gloom.” She frowned at him. “Now let me be clear about something—I won’t have it.”
He grinned despite himself. “Okay then, no more doom and gloom. Would I be out of line if I suggested another kiss?”
“Perhaps.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Try it and we’ll see.”
“I prefer not to take chances, especially with a woman who’s in such a dangerous mood.”
She laughed, and the dark mood was broken for good. “Come here and kiss me.”
He chuckled and rolled toward the nightstand. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll grab the condoms first. With you, one kiss has a way of leading to another.”
Maggie had waited so long for this moment she thought her heart would burst from sheer joy. She was not going to allow Ryan’s momentary panic about the possibility of a baby ruin it. Truthfully, she could think of nothing more wonderful than having his child, but she could understand his fears.
To her those fears were just one more reason why he needed to act and do whatever it took to put the past to rest, but she was done with nudging him. It hadn’t gotten her anywhere so far.
She rolled over and stared at him, admiring his long, lean body and well-defined muscles.
“Is there something here you like?” he inquired, his voice threaded with amusement.
“I’m debating,” she said.
“Very funny.”
She met his gaze then, her expression serious. “Did I mention to you that last night was the best night of my life?”
“Once or twice,” he teased.
“Well, it was, and I see no point in denying it.”
He grinned. “I’d be the last one to want you to. So, Miss Maggie, what plans do you have for the day? The new year is fast approaching. Have you given any thought to what you’ll be doing come January?”
“Trying to get rid of me?” she asked, attempting to inject a light note into her voice. But even she could hear the hint of edginess.
“Never that,” he said, his expression unguarded for once. “I want you here, Maggie. More than I should.”
She relaxed then, relieved that he’d asked, after a fashion, anyway. “Then this is where I’ll be.”
He studied her. “For how long?”
“Now who’s pushing for more than one day at a time?” she teased. “Is it a commitment you’re asking for, Ryan Devaney?”
He seemed to struggle with himself before finally sighing. “What if I were?”
“Then you’d have it,” she said without any hesitation at all.
He seemed taken aback by her ready response. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” She regarded him with a steady look. “But you’re not asking yet, are you?”
He reached over and brushed a wayward curl from her cheek. “Not yet, Maggie,” he said with obvious regret. “But I’m beginning to believe that one of these days I will.”
She rose on one elbow to kiss him. “Then I’ll be waiting for that day. And in the meantime, I’ll be poking into your business at the pub as much as you’ll let me.”
He chuckled. “Which won’t be much,” he warned.
“We’ll see.”
“Aren’t the books at St. Mary’s enough to keep you occupied?”
“Hardly. I had those straightened up the first week. The only thing giving me any trouble is getting Father Francis to follow the rules about collecting receipts for what he buys for the shelter and taking note of the donations so a proper acknowledgment can be sent.”
“I can see where that might be a challenge,” he said. “Since he’s not a stupid man, has it occurred to you that he’s being impossible just to make sure you keep coming around?”
Truthfully that had never crossed Maggie’s mind. “You think so?”
“If it were me, I would.”
She grinned at him. “In other words, you won’t let me touch your business records because you’re holding them in reserve as an incentive to keep me here?”
“You never know,” he teased.
“What if I were to promise to stick around, anyway—would you let me work on them then?”
He seemed to consider the question thoughtfully, then shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Too much experience with broken promises.”
Maggie sighed. They were back to his family again. “Ryan—”
He held up a hand. “No. Don’t go there. For once, let’s just forget all about my family.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod of agreement. “I can do that.” She leveled a look directly into his eyes. “Can you?”
Maggie’s challenge lingered in Ryan’s head for days. He knew he was in way over his head with Maggie if he was even considering for a second looking for his parents. And he was thinking about it, not because he wanted to find them, but because it mattered so damned much to her. He’d give her just about anything on earth she wanted. From the moment he’d made love to her, he’d known he was lost.
With her open, generous heart, Maggie offered everything he’d been denied all his life—love, a sense of belonging, joy. And with Nell and Garrett O’Brien and the others, she was also offering him the chance to be connected to a real family. That should have been more than enough for a man who’d had so little in the way of love.
But as happy as he was with their growing relationship, he was forced to admit that there was still something missing from his life, something that Maggie could never replace. Perhaps, if he was brave enough, they could marry and have children, but no matter how many people she brought into his life, it would never entirely make up for those he’d lost. From the moment she’d uttered that challenge, she hadn’t said anything more about finding his family, but she, too, clearly believed that they were the missing part of his heart. If he hadn’t known it before, he couldn’t mistake it once he’d finally opened her Christmas present—a frame with his picture and room for five more. He’d known those empty spaces were meant for photos of his brothers and parents.
Despite all that, Ryan couldn’t seem to bring himself to do anything about initiating a search. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so terrified to try. Was he afraid of being disappointed? Or afraid of another rejection?
Whenever his head was filled with questions and no answers, he always headed for the shelter. There were people there with worse problems than his, people who survived despite whatever tragedies had befallen them.
When he arrived at midmorning, he was surprised to find Letitia at work in the kitchen preparing lunch for the children. She was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at a rapid clip, but her expression was distracted.
“Everyt
hing okay?” Ryan inquired after watching her for several minutes.
She looked up from her task, and her face broke into a smile. “Mr. Devaney, what are you doing here?”
“I came by to spend some time with the kids. They usually need a distraction during the holidays. With no school and some of the parents out looking for jobs, they can get a little rambunctious. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the hospital.”
“Jamal’s with Lamar.” Her eyes lit up. “Did you know he’s getting out of the hospital later this week? The doctors say he’s making fantastic progress. Looks like my boy has a bright future ahead of him.”
“That’s wonderful. Will you be coming back here?”
She shook her head, her smile widening. “Jamal went back to his old boss and explained what had happened. He agreed to take him back after the first of the year. He even gave him an advance on his salary, so we could make a deposit on an apartment. We move in tomorrow so we can get it all fixed up before Lamar comes home.”
She put down the jar of jelly and crossed the room to hug him. “I have my life back, and it’s all because of you.”
Ryan was growing more comfortable with the impulsive show of affection, but not with the praise. “Letitia—” he began.
She cut off his protest. “I won’t hear none of that,” she scolded. “You did a good thing. Now accept my thanks.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.”
She studied him intently. “Is there something else on your mind? You’ve got the look of a man with troubles. Is it Maggie?”
“Maggie’s fine,” he said.
“You treating her right?”
He grinned at the protective note in her voice. “As right as I know how.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It’s a long story. I won’t bore you with it.”
She frowned at that. “Let me get these sandwiches out to my babies out there, and you tell me the story.”
Oddly, Ryan couldn’t seem to make himself turn down the offer. Maybe what he needed was an entirely fresh perspective. For so long now he’d simply tuned out Father Francis’s advice and, more recently, even Maggie’s, because he hadn’t wanted to deal with the past at all.
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