She smiled at him as if he were a very small and not terribly bright child and kissed him softly.
“It’s love, Dylan. I love you.”
And with her heartfelt declaration, the turbulent waters calmed. The profound experience had nothing to do with their bodies. In a flash he relived every kiss, every touch, every contact he’d had with her and his compulsion made perfect sense. His flesh knew what his mind rejected. He loved her. Body, mind and soul, he loved her.
And her love for him was an unwavering, undeniable force. He could no more betray it than betray his own heart. Bringing his hands to her cheeks, he searched her beautiful face.
“I love you, Morgan. My sweet, sweet Morgan.”
Epilogue
Dylan leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb of the living room. He stole a moment to watch his wife lounging on the sofa in the midday sun. Her eyes were closed; her hands traveled in rhythmic circles over the swell of her belly.
These last months had been the best of his life. Once he’d recognized Morgan’s love as the affirmation it was always meant to be, he could not wait to have their lives bound together. He’d wanted to get married the weekend after he’d brought her home with him from the hospital. She had talked him into waiting a month.
It had been a private affair with the Tibbes and the Bennetts. No argument Dylan came up with could dissuade Morgan from having her sorella, Lillian, as her matron of honor. In the end, he had yielded as he’d known he would from the very beginning. But he’d felt like he had to at least try for the sake of propriety. Morgan had said it was a lovely ceremony. He had taken her word for it. He had no memory of it. All he’d cared about was at the end of the day Morgan became Mrs. Drumlin.
The baby had come as a surprise to both of them. They hadn’t even had the opportunity to discuss their thoughts on having children before she’d discovered she was pregnant. She’d told him she’d been nervous to tell him. She shouldn’t have been. Dylan had never felt such overwhelming joy.
The good was beginning to counterbalance the bad. He continued to struggle with the guilt of being so hell-bent on keeping his distance from Morgan he hadn’t been close enough to her to have prevented Philip’s attack. He’d tried to make amends of a sort by standing by Morgan when she insisted on offering to pay to have Philip placed in a treatment facility at his sentencing. She’d easily charmed the judge, and Philip was currently serving his time in a rehabilitation center in Florida. Dylan had to concede Philip was staying true to his word, diligently adhering to the rigorous program. He knew because he was in constant contact with the administrators and insisted on weekly letters from Philip. It seemed Philip might be released and back at Seascape by the time the baby was born.
Dylan remembered the quilted envelope he held in his hand along with the rest of the mail he’d picked up on his way into the brownstone. Must be the DVD of the ultrasound, he smiled. He knew Morgan was watching for it, anxious to see and share the 3D images of the soon-to-be newest member of the household.
When he looked up, he saw she had spotted him and was frowning.
“Are you lurking in doorways again?”
“I’m not lurking, sweet,” he protested, moving to squat next to the couch beside her head. “I was enjoying the view.”
“Of Mount Morgan,” she snorted, pulling the buds from her ears and twirling their wire around the MP3 player balanced over the peak of her rounded tummy.
“Hey.” He reached out to tuck an unruly curl behind her ear, his hand lingering on the curve of her cheek. “That’s our baby in there.”
“You don’t have to tell me. He’s been doing summersaults all afternoon. I finally gave up trying to get any work done and came home to try to calm us both down.”
“Is everything all right?” He put his ear to her bellybutton and was immediately reassured by the firm nudge of a foot or hand or some other baby part. “Well, he certainly seems to be fine.”
“We’re both fine.” She smoothed her hand over his cheek and forehead, her touch cool and reassuring.
He slid in beside her, having to reach to hold onto the back of the sofa to balance on the sliver of cushion allotted to him.
“What is it?” he spoke against her temple, his lips brushing her skin.
“Today is the one year anniversary. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year Aaron has been gone. I can’t help wishing he was here, to see the baby. He would have loved this.” She traced her fingertips over her stomach. “But if he was here, there most likely wouldn’t be a baby. If he were still alive, you and I wouldn’t even…” She let her voice trail off, seemingly unable to continue her train of thought.
“I know.” He cinched closer giving her a full-body hug with the help of the couch.
And he did know. The knowledge he had come so close to letting it all slip through his fingers was a potent thing. The sharp reality sometimes woke him in the middle of the night. But it was not the time for him to share his angst with Morgan. She already felt melancholy.
With a grin, he remembered he had the perfect antidote.
“Hey! I’ve got something to cheer you up.”
Letting go his hold, he rolled backward onto his feet. Reaching for the floor, he scooped up the mail he had placed discreetly to the side when he’d first approached.
“Look what I’ve got.” He held up the puffy rectangle as he made his way to the entertainment center across from them. “Sure to be a blockbuster hit; Baby Drumlin in his first full length feature.”
Her laughter eased the muscles of his shoulders. He let out a sigh of relief as he pulled the perforated strip off the back of the envelope and reached inside to pull out the disc.
“That reminds me, I had a thought about an actual name for Baby Drumlin.”
“I object to your implication Baby Drumlin is not an actual name, but go ahead,” he teased as he pushed back the doors of the corner armoire housing the wireless components for the flat screen television hanging on the wall adjacent to it. Locating the remote in the top drawer, he brought the monitor to glowing life. After sliding the disc into the DVD player, he backed toward the couch, pressing the play button as he went.
“I was thinking…”
Dylan was bent at the waist, his arms around Morgan’s legs in preparation for settling them over his lap, when he heard her gasp.
“Aaron.”
He lifted his head and what he saw set-off his own sharp intake of breath.
There, in high-definition, was Aaron Field.
Dylan reacted instinctively, aiming the remote at the phantom before him, but Morgan halted him with a light touch on his forearm.
“It’s all right,” she said, though the color had drained from her face. “We should listen.”
She turned to face the screen. Dylan did the same, sitting beside her, crossing his arms over her calves and pulling them tight to his middle.
“Hello, my dear. It will have been one year today I left you all to your own devices. Not to mention vices, eh Drumlin? I assume he’s there with you, my dear. If he’s not, he’s a more stubborn ass than I gave him credit for, and I’m afraid you will have to take drastic measures to bring him to heel. I’d suggest a very serious boyfriend or, perhaps, a year abroad. Don’t plan on spending the whole year there though. I’d give him six weeks before he shows up on your doorstep and insists on taking you home.”
“More like six hours,” Dylan spoke to the screen then turned to Morgan to caress her cheek before Aaron called both their attention back to the TV.
“At any rate, it’s been a year, and I thought you wouldn’t mind having to look at this old mug after some time had passed. That’s why the letter at the reading. A moving picture seemed much too maudlin to me for right after kicking off.
“I’m truly sorry for leaving so many loose ends. It was my intention to have everything in ship shape order before checking out. But if you’re watching this recording, my blasted ticker must have given out sooner than expect
ed. Guess I should have listened to Cullen, but it wasn’t in me to give up my work. I’m sure you understand. I have every confidence, though, you’ve worked it all out. Field Foundation is a resounding success, no doubt. I knew the work would suit you. You love it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Dylan heard her answer quietly, catching her tender smile out of the corner of his eye.
“And Drumlin, I’ll assume I gave him precisely the right amount of credit for being a stubborn ass, he suits you as well. Doesn’t he? I’d bet you love him a good measure better than your work. You always have, haven’t you? I remember how you lit up when he first started coming around. I’d been so worried about you up until then, but it was as if the girl I remembered from when your parents were alive came back with Drumlin. Of course, you needed to grow up a bit before the two of you could be more than friends. I would have had to have words with him then, eh?
“And in the event you ever have cause to doubt it, take it from me, he loves you more than anything in this world. Don’t listen to anything different he might have to say on the matter. The poor boy doesn’t know what’s truly good for him. He had a difficult time, you see. His parents, well, if you don’t know all ready let me just say Dylan Drumlin needs you like I needed Mary. He will never be whole without you. Don’t doubt it for a moment whatever he might say or be unable to say.”
Dylan tracked his hand over Morgan’s shoulder and down her arm in search of her hand. He tangled his fingers with hers and gave a squeeze, affirming Aaron’s words.
“I want to thank you, my dear. I know you have always believed I saved you when I took you in after your parents died. But you saved me and Philip too. Even though you were dealing with your own tremendous loss and you were so young, you became the glue that held our little family together, especially since we had lost Mary. Having you in our lives gave me such joy over the years and great comfort in my final days. I very much wanted you to know that. My thanks and my love.
“Oh, and one more thing before I sign off, it’s the damnedest thing, but I can’t shake the feeling not only is Drumlin sitting there next to you but there’s a little one on the way. Yes, I swear I can see it,”
Aaron closed his eyes and a smile of contentment transformed his world weary features into the radiant complexion and serene expression of an angel. When he opened his eyes the aura of other-worldliness remained, intensified by the mischievous twinkle in his sapphire blue irises.
“Might I suggest a name for the little man? How does Aaron Drumlin sound? It has a nice ring to it.” Aaron’s gaze shifted, as if he were looking not at the camera, but behind it. “Don’t you think?” Then he winked and the screen went blank.
There followed a stunned silence.
“How? Did he…could he have…how?” Morgan stammered.
“He didn’t and he couldn’t,” Dylan insisted, as much for himself as for Morgan. “It was a guess, a wish.”
“Pretty impressive guessing.”
“Not really. Aaron knew us both very well.”
“Better than we knew ourselves,” Morgan offered as she struggled to a sit up next to him, laying her head on his shoulder, her legs dangling over his.
“I don’t know about that. But he might have seen the situation between us more clearly than we were able.” Dylan put his arm around her, settling her on his lap. One hand he slipped beneath the fall of her hair to fit to the back of her neck, the other he pressed to the curve of her middle, fingers splaying over the place where their child, quiet now, grew.
Then he chuckled, his heart light. “What does it matter?” he asked, kissing her forehead. “Perhaps Aaron could tell the future. Frankly, I wouldn’t put anything past him. I do know he was well skilled at providing people with the right opportunity at the right time.” He pulled her closer. “He certainly gave us another chance.”
Morgan tilted her head against his shoulder, turning her face up to his. He saw the skin between her brows crinkle.
“Another chance,” she agreed nodding, her full and inviting lips diverting his attention.
“Yes.” he whispered as he lowered his head to Morgan’s. “Thank you for being willing to take it.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m grateful I smartened up in time.”
“Me, too.” She smirked.
“So, it doesn’t matter.” He smoothed his hand over the swell of new life between them. “Whether it was fate or Aaron’s will.”
“Dylan.” She lifted her arm cupping the back of his head with her hand, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Where Aaron was concerned, weren’t they the same thing?”
“Yes, sweet,” he agreed, “I guess you could say they were.”
And then Dylan let Morgan draw him to her slowly, enjoying the growing anticipation of all that would surely follow.
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About DawnMarie Richards
DawnMarie Richards’ grandmother introduced her to the romance novel, providing a seemingly endless supply of dog-eared Harlequins from a stash kept in a large paper grocery bag. A life-long fan of the genre, DawnMarie decided to try her hand at writing what she most enjoys reading: sweet love stories with a whole lot of spicy in all the right places. She delights in doing that very thing from her home in southern Arizona, which she shares with her husband and their crazy dog, Rand. To learn more about DawnMarie and how to cultivate a sexy mind visit www.dawnmarierichards.com.
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