They ate in silence, occasionally glancing at each other. Jeannie smiled; Sam frowned. She took her shower first, while he cleaned up the kitchen. He showered while she called Julian.
Marta arrived at one o'clock on the dot, hugging Jeannie profusely, assuring her that Julian looked the picture of health. While Marta visited, Sam took the opportunity to survey the cottage and the surrounding yard.
"Everyone at the school misses you terribly," Marta said. "The children ask about you continuously. They really didn't understand exactly how you were helping them, but they're well aware that things have changed since you've been gone."
"As soon as this problem with Maynard Reeves is solved, I'll return to work. I miss the children. I miss all of you."
"Will he be staying?" Marta nodded toward the yard, where they could see Sam surveying his surroundings.
"You mean, will he stay after I'm no longer in danger, when I don't need a bodyguard?"
"Yes. Will he?"
"I don't know."
"You're in love with him, aren't you?"
Jeannie lowered her head, avoiding Marta's direct stare. "Am I that obvious?"
"Only to those who know you well and love you dearly." Marta rose, walked across the living room and sat down on the sofa beside Jeannie. "Somehow I never pictured you with a man like Sam Dundee. He's too … too—"
"Too much a man."
"Well, yes." Cool, calm, controlled Marta blushed. "He's quite sophisticated, and very elegant, but… Oh, my dear, he's so big and brutal-looking, despite being so handsome. And what he does for a living! A bodyguard. You must know that there's every likelihood he's killed someone at some point in his life."
"Yes, you're probably right." Jeannie covered Marta's hand with her own. "But what you don't understand is that Sam needs me and I have so much to give him. And his strengths are my weaknesses and my strengths are his weaknesses."
"You must be careful not to let him break your heart." Squeezing Jeannie's hand, Marta forced a weak smile.
"Julian's worried, isn't he?" Jeannie sensed the truth as Marta clung to her hand. "I think Julian saw me married to a doctor or a lawyer. Someone local, the son of one of his friends or associates. Perhaps a member of the Fleur-de-lis Society."
"Julian loves you as dearly as if you were his own flesh and blood." Releasing Jeannie's hand, Marta stood and looked down at the floor. "Julian believes you and Mr. Dundee are lovers."
"I'll talk to Julian," Jeannie said. "Sam is taking me to visit him after dinner this evening. I'll make Julian understand how much I love Sam."
"He wants only your happiness."
"Sam makes me happy."
"Has he mentioned marriage?" Marta looked at Jeannie.
"No."
"I see."
"Come back and sit down." Jeannie patted the sofa cushion beside her. "I want to hear about every Howell School child. Give me details on progress and setbacks. How is Cassie Mills? And little Justin Walker? And Missy Suddath? Her mother hasn't taken her out of school, has she?"
"That crazy woman!" Marta sat down beside Jeannie. "She comes inside the school every day when she brings Missy, and looks around to make sure you aren't there. We've told her that you are no longer working at the school."
"I want you to continue allowing her some leeway," Jeannie said. "I know Danette has joined the Righteous Light Church and thinks I'm a witch, but I don't want Missy to suffer for her mother's ignorance."
"I've told the staff how you feel and given them instructions to make allowances for Danette Suddath's odd behavior, but I'm telling you, the woman is unbalanced."
"I wish I could help Danette, but she would never allow me near her. The most we can do is take care of Missy."
The front door opened, and Sam Dundee stepped into the living room. Jeannie and Marta looked up at him, Jeannie smiling as Marta patted her on the knee.
"There's a beautiful little secluded garden at the back of the house," Sam said. "How would you like to have supper out there?"
"My son's ex-wife loved the garden," Marta said. "I think it was the main reason they bought this house."
"Well, it's something to see." Sam sat down in the Chippendale armchair to the right of the sofa. "I can see where a woman might find it a selling point when buying a house."
"I think supper in the garden is a lovely idea." Jeannie hoped Marta saw the significance in Sam's suggestion of a romantic supper in a secluded garden. She wanted Julian and Marta to understand why she loved Sam, why she was happy to be carrying his child.
"Well, I need to stop by school and check on things." Marta hugged Jeannie, then stood. "I've neglected my job the last few days."
Standing, Sam walked Marta to the door. She turned to him when he stepped outside with her.
"I'll see y'all at the hospital later this evening," Marta said, and walked down the stone sidewalk. She stopped abruptly, turned around and looked Sam in the eye. "She's in love with you, you know. Please, don't hurt her." Marta rushed to her car, got inside and backed into the street.
Sam watched her drive away, his back to the porch. He heard Jeannie as she approached him, her cane tapping on the wooden porch and steps.
"You musn't let what she said bother you." Jeannie laid her hand on Sam's back.
"How can I not worry?"
"No matter what happens, you'll never hurt me."
He turned, looked at her and closed his eyes, the pain inside him shattering in its intensity. How could she trust him so completely, love him so unselfishly, when he'd made no lasting commitment to her? How could he tell her he loved her, when he wasn't sure he was capable of truly loving a woman the way Jeannie deserved to be loved?
"Show me the garden in the backyard." Bracing herself with her cane, she held out her other hand, inviting his touch.
If he touched her, she'd know exactly how he felt. She'd sense his confusion and uncertainty. And she would feel the desperate need burning inside him.
He took her hand in his and led her around the house to the backyard. All the while they walked—slowly, to accommodate her hampered gait—he allowed her to understand how he felt.
She realized he was unaware of how far he'd come in trusting his innermost thoughts and emotions to her. He'd gone from fighting the tiniest link to full acceptance of their joining. As always, she sensed his protectiveness and his possessiveness. A raging hunger. An overwhelming sexual desire. A deep, unrestrained need. And a sweet, tender caring. Gratitude. Unworthiness. Uncertainty. And fear. She picked up on every delicate nuance of his emotions. But she could not connect to the depths of his heart, to that place where the truth of his feelings lay buried so completely that it was a secret, even to Sam.
The garden wrapped around the back of the cottage like an emerald shawl of dense foliage and lush shade. Opening the wrought-iron gate, they entered beneath a clematis-covered arch and walked down a stone pathway leading to a fully enclosed piece of paradise. A concrete table and benches had been placed in the corner of a climbing-rosebush arbor.
"This is beautiful," Jeannie said.
"You're beautiful." Sam slipped his arm around her waist, urging her to turn.
She went into his arms, knowing what he wanted, admitting to herself that she wanted the same. He wrapped her in his embrace; she snuggled close, loving the feel of his powerful arms holding her.
"Jeannie?"
Make love to me, Sam. Here. Now. In the privacy of our little garden.
He heard her as clearly as if she'd spoken the words aloud. And the moment he took her lips in an all-consuming kiss of possession, he felt the wild, uncontrollable need within him come alive within Jeannie, too.
Slow and easy, he told himself. Don't frighten her. Don't hurt her.
"It's all right," she said, reaching out to slide first one side of his jacket and then the other off his shoulders.
He let the expensive silk jacket fall to the ground, to rest atop a tiny sculptured shrub. He grabbed her by the waist to su
pport her. She dropped her cane on the stone path. Restraining himself, just barely controlling his need to take her like the savage he was, Sam allowed her to undress him. She whipped off his tie and flung it into the air. Unbuttoning his shirt seemed to take forever. She threw it down beside his jacket, then unbuckled his belt.
Sam sucked in a deep breath. His arousal throbbed painfully. Every muscle in his body strained; every nerve screamed.
"Oh, Sam…" Swaying from the force of the sensations she received from his body, she grabbed his forearms.
"You're in charge, angel. We'll do this your way, but I don't think you'll last much longer."
Gulping air, she smiled at him. Perspiration coated her flushed face. She unzipped his slacks and pulled them down his hips. When they hit the ground, Sam kicked them aside. She tugged on his briefs. Taking one hand from her waist, he assisted her in removing the last strip of his clothing.
He stood there, his big body hard, his sex pulsating with life. He felt her longing, knew she was unraveling by slow degrees, just as he was. The passion grew stronger and stronger, becoming raw and uncivilized as it developed.
"Please, Sam," she said aloud.
He pulled her green cotton sweater over her head, loosening her hair. Sliding the pins from her hair, he let it fall free. With shaky fingers, he unlatched the hook on her bra, removed the silken garment and cupped her naked breasts in his hands.
She shivered from head to toe. If he didn't take her soon, she was going to explode. Her sex throbbed painfully. She needed release, needed Sam inside her, giving her all of himself.
"Soon, sweet angel." He kissed each nipple in turn, feeling the spiraling tension in her breasts as it gripped her femininity. She was on fire; he was on fire. Together they would burn themselves out, dissolving into ashes of completion.
Unzipping her slacks, he watched her face. He wanted to kiss her. She was alive in every fiber of her body, on fire with a heat that seared him as completely as it did her. Holding her by the hips, he knelt and slid her green-and-white-striped slacks and beige silk panties down her legs.
He kissed her stomach, burying his face in her warm, soft flesh. He felt her closing off, shutting him out of her thoughts. Why had she done that? he wondered.
She had to keep her secret. Sam's child was nestled there inside her, in her womb, safe and secure. But now was not the time to share her happy news with him. There would be time enough when Maynard Reeves was no longer a part of their lives.
She pushed the thoughts of their child deep into her heart, closing them off from her conscious thoughts. Threading her fingers through Sam's hair, she moaned as he delved his fingers deeply into her body.
She gripped his shoulders, urging him to stand. He kissed her intimately. She shuddered. Sam rose, lifted her off her feet and carried her into the rose arbor. A lush bed of grass and moss beckoned him. Placing her on the ground, he lay down beside her and pulled her on top of him. She stared down into searing blue-gray eyes and had no doubt what joy awaited the two of them. Holding her hips, petting her buttocks with his fingertips, Sam eased her down onto him, entering her with a forceful thrust.
Jeannie cried out with the pleasure of their joining, lowering her head to reach his lips. She plunged her tongue into his mouth; he reciprocated with equal fervor. They devoured each other as he stroked her back and buttocks. Placing her hands on either side of his head, she pushed herself upward until her breasts hung over his mouth, a luscious temptation.
She set the pace, moving with restless need, her own desire so strong she didn't know whether she could handle his, as well as hers. When he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, the first warning of release clenched her sex. While his mouth toyed with one breast, he lifted his hand to cup the other, then pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Fulfillment claimed her, rocking her to the core. Sam caught her cries in his mouth as her release rippled through him.
He changed the pace of their lovemaking, increasing the tempo, deepening his thrusts. He was on the verge, and so was she. Together they splintered into shards of unequaled ecstasy, Jeannie sharing his pleasure as he shared hers. Panting heavily, their bodies dripping with perspiration, Sam rolled over onto his side, holding her in his arms, kissing her again and again.
"I love you, Sam. I love you with all my heart."
"Ah, Jeannie … Jeannie … my sweet angel."
Chapter 15
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Sam moaned with pleasure. Jeannie smiled at him as she slowly pulled the fork out of his mouth. He chewed the scrumptious bite of blueberry pancake dripping in syrup that she had fed him. They gazed into each other's eyes, silently conveying words of erotic intent as they remembered their night of passionate loving.
Looking at him sitting there in nothing but his slacks, his broad chest bare, Jeannie sighed as her body recalled Sam Dundee's savage possession.
He grinned, enjoying the sight of her, her flawless skin, soft peach lips and warm brown eyes. Tendrils of sun-streaked brown hair curled about her forehead and ears. His body hardened when he thought about her being naked beneath her robe.
Turning his fork sideways, Sam sliced off a piece of his pancake, speared it and lifted it toward Jeannie's mouth. With her gaze focused on Sam, she parted her lips. He slid the morsel into her mouth, watching while she chewed. Laying his fork on his plate, Sam reached across the table and, using the tip of his finger, wiped a trickle of syrup from the corner of Jeannie's mouth. Inclining her head, she captured Sam's finger between her lips and licked off the syrup.
Groaning deep in his throat, he jerked his finger out of her mouth. He knocked over his chair as he stood quickly, then rounded the table and lifted a laughing Jeannie out of her chair. Shoving her breakfast plate, cup and silverware across the table with the back of his hand, he set her on the edge of the table, opened her silk robe and parted her thighs. In one swift motion, he unzipped his slacks and discarded them.
She gripped his shoulders. He took her mouth at the exact same moment he lifted her hips and plunged into her. The joining was instant, jolting both of them with its power. As their bodies united, their hearts and minds entwined, each experiencing the pure ecstasy of their combined loving.
When they reached fever pitch, Sam groaned hot, shameless words to her, and she responded by abandoning herself to the sheer, pulse-pounding glory of their simultaneous twofold release.
She clung to him in the aftermath, kissing his shoulder as he lifted her and carried her to the bathroom. He drew her a bubble bath and slid her into the tub, then tossed her a washcloth.
"I'll clean up in the kitchen while you take your bath." He kissed her on the tip of her nose.
The telephone rang. Jeannie tensed. Sam winked at her, the action meant to reassure her that all was well. He closed the door behind him, leaving her alone.
She eased back, resting her head against the tiled wall. They'd been back in Biloxi five days. Julian was definitely on the road to recovery and would probably be coming home in a couple of days. Despite the possibility of a storm brewing in the Atlantic, heading toward the Caribbean, she hadn't given up her hope that Sam and she could take Julian back to Le Bijou Bleu to fully recuperate.
But she couldn't hide away on the island forever, and Sam had a life in Atlanta. Sooner or later, he would have to leave.
Although no doctor had confirmed her pregnancy and she hadn't bothered with a home test kit, Jeannie knew she was carrying Sam's child. She had been able to link with the baby and experience the first stages of her daughter's existence. She was almost four weeks pregnant now, and she still hadn't told Sam. How could she add to his burden of worry? He would want this child, and he would be even more protective and possessive if he knew. Until the situation with Maynard Reeves was settled, she would wait, keeping her precious secret in the deepest, most private part of her heart.
Sam opened the door, walked in and handed her the portable phone. "It's Marta. She sounds a little odd, bu
t she says everything's all right. She needs to talk to you about one of the students."
Jeannie took the phone in her hand, then waved goodbye to Sam as he went back into the bedroom. "Hello, Marta."
"Jeannie, please don't let Mr. Dundee know what I'm saying to you."
"All right." Jeannie sensed Marta's fear. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"
"When Danette Suddath brought Missy to school this morning, two other women came with her." Marta swallowed. "We allowed her free access, just as you'd instructed."
"Are you alone in your office?" Jeannie asked, realizing that something was terribly wrong.
"Yes. They've allowed me to come in here alone. But Jeannie… Oh, dear God, they have guns! They're holding the children hostage."
Jeannie heard Marta sobbing. "What do you mean, they're holding the children hostage?"
"During our before-school free time in the cafeteria, Danette Suddath and these two other women pulled their guns, each one gabbed a child, and they're holding the whole school hostage."
"What do they want?" Jeannie asked, but she knew. She glanced at the partially open door, wondering if Sam had gone back into the kitchen.
"They want you, Jeannie," Marta said. "They're all members of the Righteous Light Church. Danette told me that—that they won't hurt any of the children, if you'll come down to the school."
"Call the police, Marta. Tell them what's happened. Sam and I will be there as soon as possible."
"No! I can't call the police, and Sam Dundee must not come here. They said if I called the police or if Mr. Dundee comes with you, they'll start sacrificing the children. That's the exact word Danette used. Sacrificing."
"They want me to come alone?" Jeannie's mind splintered into a dozen different thoughts, the prime one being the question of how she would ever escape from Sam.
"I don't know what to do, Jeannie. If you come down here, they'll turn you over to Maynard Reeves." Marta's voice quavered more with each word she spoke. "I think they're expecting him to come here and get you."
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