by Sandra Brown
Now he comforted her. "I was a fool, Keely. I shouldn't have blurted out Mark's death to you then. I was just so anxious that you know." He held her head between his hands and tilted it back to look into her eyes. "When you knew that what I told you was the truth, you didn't call me." His face looked pained. "Why, Keely?"
"Because I didn't think you'd ever forgive me for not believing you. Because you still have your career and campaign to worry about. Because you don't need any problems in your life just now. Because I saw your picture with Madeline."
A smile tugged at his lips. "Is that all?"
Her own lips tried to smile, but they were trembling too much. "Because I love you and didn't want to do anything that would hurt you."
"Keely." He reached for her again and smothered her against him. "I didn't come to you because I didn't know what you were thinking or feeling. I thought you might be grieving over Mark. I had come on too strong and too soon once before, and I didn't want to risk doing it again."
She smoothed the collar of his wrinkled shirt with her fingertips. "No. I was relieved that Mark hadn't suffered years of imprisonment and pain. When I was in the helicopter and it was going down…"
"Yes?" he prodded when she hesitated.
"Well, I said goodbye to him, Dax. He'll always be a very fond memory, but he's been dead for a long time. I've been granted a second chance. I can't afford to waste one day of living."
He kissed her then, long and hard and earnestly. When at last they pulled part, he said huskily, "You need to be in bed."
He led her back to the high bed and eased her onto it. When she was propped onto the pillows, seemingly having suffered no ill effects for having got up, he took her hand and pressed it between his. "Keely, will you marry me?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Very much."
"I'm a recent widow."
"Twelve years? Once Mark's death is officially announced, people will understand your wanting to marry again."
"Oh, my darling," she said, smoothing her hand over his rough cheek. "I'm not thinking of what people will think of me, but of jeopardizing your campaign."
He turned his head far enough to kiss her palm. "You let me worry about that. Tomorrow, with your consent, I'm calling a press conference to announce our engagement. Van Dorf will be the first one I call."
"Van Dorf! Dax, he'll—"
"He'll be here with bells on and will probably give us a glowing write-up." He chuckled.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Lie back. You're sick, remember? I'll tell you for now that Al and I have reached an understanding." He dropped a silencing kiss on her mouth. "Enough of him. Will you marry me?"
Her brows knit in worry. "Dax, the voting public still might frown on us. Our names have been bandied around for weeks."
"Keely," he whispered, leaning over her to kiss her just beneath her jaw. "I think you'll be an asset. The public will love you. They already do. And if they don't vote for me because of the woman I married, or for any other reason, I'll serve my country as a farmer and businessman. I've never meant anything more than I mean this. I'd rather have a life with you than hold any office. I'd rather have you than anything."
"Dax." His name was a sigh before she brought his head down to kiss his lips.
"Do you think you can handle the campaign trail? I mean, with your job at the radio station and all?" His nibbling lips stopped when he heard her soft laughter.
"You're always the diplomat, the politician, aren't you?" He had the grace to grin abashedly. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she shook his head. "I think loving you will be a full-time occupation."
The ebony eyes liquefied with love. "I like the sound of that," he said roughly. Light kisses were brushed across her brows.
"Dax?"
"Hmm?"
"Madeline."
"What about her?"
"What about her?" she repeated.
He lifted his head. "Absolutely nothing, Keely. There never was, even before I met you. There certainly never will be now. She wanted it. The press wanted it. No one consulted me. I took advantage of the publicity she attracted. That was wrong, perhaps, but I'm all done with it now. If she wants to contribute to my campaign, then she'll have to do it through proper channels."
"Stay with me tonight." Her ready acceptance of his explanation was a pledge of trust, of love. She reached up and switched off the light over her bed. When he glanced cautiously toward the door, she laughed.
"Anyone who tries to come in would have to get past Nicole, and I don't think that would be possible."
Even in the shadowed darkness she saw his smile. He slipped off his shoes and lay down beside her, cradling her body along the length of his. Without another word his lips found hers, fused with them, opened. His tongue glided over her teeth, past them, into the hollow of her mouth, probing, a reminder of the times he had loved her.
One hand lay along her cheek, tenderly, possessively. The other coasted down her chest to slip inside her negligee and cherish her breast. Lightly his thumb swept her nipple.
"Dax," she murmured, rolling to face him, pressing her body to his.
"Oh, God, Keely," he groaned and pushed away from her. "This isn't going to work. I've got to go."
"No," she cried, clutching his shirtfront.
"We can't make love, Keely. You've got to rest, to sleep—"
"I will, I promise, only please don't leave me."
She found herself in a swift, sudden embrace. "Never, never," he vowed. "I love you, Keely. I'll never leave you. Never."
He pressed her head against his heart and with its strong, steady beating she felt her old anxieties fading away. This was a beginning. Yesterday's heartache was gone; today was splendored; and they could still look forward to the promise of tomorrow.
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