With an unbelievable feeling in his chest, Murphy grasped her by the arms, not sure he actually heard her right. Her gaze unwavering, she tried to smile but tears got in the way. “I know you love me.”
Overcome with such a surge of relief, he closed his eyes and gathered her up in a fierce embrace, a crazy lightness breaking loose. “Ah, God, Jordan. I do love you—so damned much. And I really thought I’d lost you.”
She clung to him, hanging on for dear life, and he tucked his head against hers, his pulse suddenly running thick and heavy. It had been so long. So long.
A soft sob breaking from her, Jordan twisted her head, and Murphy’s heartbeat went into superdrive when her mouth brushed against his. Widening his stance for balance, he grasped the back of her head, grinding his mouth against her as weeks of loneliness boiled up in him. It was as if all the barriers had come down and a fountain had sprung up, pouring emotion from one to the other and inciting a hunger that was raw and urgent. But they were confined—confined by location. Confined by clothes. Confined by a total lack of privacy.
His heart pounding and his breathing labored, he clutched her hips against him, his whole body so primed, he felt ready to explode. Tearing his mouth away, he tightened his hold, fighting for breath. “Where’s J.J.?” he whispered hoarsely.
He could barely make out what she said. “At your mother’s.”
Clenching his jaw, he moved against her, a thick, heavy need pulsating through him. Grasping her head, he kissed her jaw. “Do you want to blow this joint?”
She shuddered and nodded, her breathing as ragged as his.
Murphy wasn’t sure how he found the strength of will to let her go, and he sure in hell didn’t know how he got them from there to his place without killing them both. All he knew was once he got them that far, he couldn’t get her inside fast enough. And every item of clothing was an obstruction that drove his urgency higher. He was desperate to get inside her, and Jordan was so frantic that she was like lightning—like raw energy in his arms, and the instant he carried her down onto his bed, and naked flesh covered naked flesh, he was nearly beyond the point of no return.
But a tiny sliver of reality surfaced, and he tried to pull back, knowing he had nothing there to protect her. But Jordan wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in. “It’s okay,” she whispered frantically. “It’s okay.”
And the moment his throbbing flesh touched her moist heat, he totally lost it. And he entered her and the universe spun out of control, their driving need closing in around them. And the only thing in that universe was her.
It took Murphy a long time to surface afterward, the release so explosive, so intense that it stripped him of every shred of coherent thought—except one electrifying awareness. She was back, and this time, he was never going to let her go.
Still trembling from the mind-blowing catharsis, he buried his face against her neck, his breathing still uneven. Turning his face into her hair, he tightened his hold, inhaling the scent of her, the scent of their lovemaking. He kissed her neck, then brushed his mouth against her ear. “Are you going to marry me, Kennedy?”
She locked her arms around his neck, her voice breaking. “Yes.”
Two seconds before, Murphy had been too damned spent to move, but a sudden high replaced that depleted feeling. Propping his weight on his elbows, he caught her head in his hands, making her look at him. His heartbeat accelerating all over again, he gazed down at her, his expression intent. “When?”
Her gaze clear and direct, she gave him a wobbly smile. “How about tomorrow?”
He grinned, then gave her a hard kiss, certain that he could fly if he was willing to let go of her. Releasing a satisfied sigh, he lifted his head and looked at her. “I don’t think we could pull it off quite that quick.”
There was a flicker of an old torment in her eyes, and she shifted her gaze, her touch like silk as she caressed his shoulder. “There won’t be much to arrange.”
Murphy got the picture, and he very gently tipped her face up so he could look directly into her eyes. “I want the whole damned world to know, Jordan.” His face creased with a smile as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “But how about if we turn my mother and sisters loose, tell ‘em they’ve got five days and see what happens?”
A glint of amusement appeared in her eyes. “That sounds safe. I don’t think even they could get out invitations to the whole world in five days.”
He chuckled and gave her another soft kiss, then lifted his head, his expression altering as he combed her hair out on the pillow. Finally he looked at her, his gaze sober. “It really wasn’t okay, was it? The timing?”
She held his gaze for an instant, then looked away and ran her finger along an old scar on his shoulder.
“Jordan?”
A pink flush crept up her face, and she released a sigh. “No.” But then she looked up at him, a touch of anxiety in her eyes as she immediately added, “But it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
He continued to finger her hair, loving the feel of it against his callused hands. He smiled down at her. “No, it wouldn’t be so bad at all,” he answered, his voice husky. His expression sobered as he traced the outline of her ear. “Except it would be so hard on you, two pregnancies that close together.”
She grinned, giving him a little poke in the ribs. “Don’t you think you’re counting your chickens a little early, Munroe?”
“It’s not chickens I’m worried about.”
Still smiling, she lifted her head and kissed his jaw. “Well, then. How do you feel about that other old saying—you may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb?”
Laughing, he rolled with her, pulling her securely on top of him as he settled flat on his back. “So you’re going to be my wife?”
Looking down at him, she smiled that soft smile of hers, an expression on her face that touched his heart. “I’m going to be your wife.”
“And are you going to have all my babies?”
The smile deepened. “I’m going to have all your babies.”
His expression altered, his heart contracting with a lifetime of love. “And are you going to love me forever?”
She met his gaze with a steadiness that made his whole world swim. “I’m going to love you forever.”
Overcome by the certainty in her response, he pulled her down and wrapped her in a fierce embrace. “This time we’re going to make it, darhn’,” he whispered gruffly. “We really are.”
And this time he knew they would—together.
Epilogue
The hotel banquet room was first-class all the way—long, white tapers and Christmas arrangements on all the damask-draped tables, a huge Christmas tree in the corner decked out in tiny white twinkling lights and silver bows. Yeah, it was first-class all right.
The band was playing, the dance floor was jammed, and the noise level had risen ten decibels in the past ten minutes. Murphy leaned back against the no-host bar, watching the action. It was the annual Christmas party he and Mitch threw for their respective staffs, and the place was hopping. Both crews acted as if it were the New Year’s bash, and streamers were flying and horns were blowing, and everybody was having a damned good time.
His gaze lit on a woman weaving her way through the draped tables, a bottle of champagne in one hand, a pair of red shoes in the other. She had on a very sexy red dress that showed off her long, long legs and a figure that didn’t need one iota of imagination. Her blond hair was slipping free of an elegant French fold, and wisps of hair framed her face and curled along the back of her neck. Murphy grinned, watching her progress. This was hardly the prissy accountant that had once knocked his socks off. Nope. This was his slightly tipsy wife of one year, and she still knocked his socks off.
Their anniversary was the following day, and their second son had been born nine months to the hour of his conception. He and his big brother, J.J., were at home with Baba, a stockpile of breast milk in the fridge. The stockpile was because Mom and
Dad were spending the night in a luxurious suite upstairs. And because Mom, who hadn’t had a drink in nearly two years, had decided to fall off the wagon tonight. And fall she had.
Murphy’s grin deepened as she stopped at the buffet table, helping herself to some hors d’oeuvres, swaying to the music. She had changed so much since he first met her, he sometimes found it hard to believe she was the same woman. And every day, he fell in love with her a little more.
It had taken her a while, after they were married, for her to open up and tell him about her miserable, lonely childhood. And it had taken her a while to drop all her defenses and discover who she really was. But it was as if her taking his name had started her on the road to a whole new identity, one that was totally hers, one that hadn’t been assigned to her by some caseworker. And it had helped, having his psychologist sister take her under her wing—and it had helped that Jessica and Jordan had developed such a solid friendship. But the biggest support for Jordan was having a real family for the first time in her life, and she simply blossomed.
And she had absolutely thrived on making a home. Not wanting to expose J.J. to the dust from more renovations, they had lived in her condo until Murphy got the upstairs floors stripped down and everything painted. Then they moved back in.
The first thing they did was redesign the work space in the sunroom so she had her own work area since she planned on doing most of her work from home. And the second thing they did was remodel the unused half of the summer kitchen into a large bedroom and a bath for Baba. Baba insisted on staying with the boys whenever Jordan had to go in to the office and Murphy couldn’t be there, so they wanted her to have a space of her own whenever she stayed over.
But the construction was pretty much the extent of his contributions. Yeah, he’d done a whole lot of head-nodding and voicing of approval when she got on a roll, but mostly he just went along for the nde, getting a whole lot of satisfaction out of watching her get excited. As far as decorating and colors went, he didn’t really give a damn. But watching her take ownership, turn a house into their home, watching the sparkle of enthusiasm appear in his wife’s eyes—now, that mattered a whole lot.
Finishing off a mouthful of some treat or another, Jordan licked her fingers, still swaying to the music, a dreamy look on her face. Weaving just a little, she picked up the champagne bottle and started toward him, and he could see she was also humming to the music. He grinned to himself. His little darlin’ was going to be just a tad bit hung over in the morning.
She crossed the space between the tables to the bar, moving in that loose-hipped sway of a runway model, the luscious red of the dress matching the luscious red of her lips.
Giving him a very lazy smile, she came up to him and draped her arms around his neck, her shoes in one hand, the bottle in the other. She licked a tiny blob of whipped cream off her bottom lip, her voice husky. “Hi, big boy. You haven’t danced with me yet.”
Looping his arms loosely around her hips, he met her gaze, trying to keep a straight face. “No, I haven’t.”
Dropping her shoes, she started straightening his hair. “Mitch danced with me. And Marco danced with me. And your dad danced with me.”
Fighting to hold back a grin, he nodded solemnly. “Yes, they did.”
She moved against him, still swaying to the music, and Murphy felt his temperature shoot up five degrees. She trailed her finger slowly along his neck. “So why haven’t you danced with me?”
Bracing his weight against the bar, he pulled her closer. “Because,” he said, dipping his head to brush his mouth back and forth against hers, “if I dance with you, I’m going to have to spend the rest of the night sitting at the table with a tablecloth over my lap.”
She leaned back and looked up at him, a siren’s smile appearing, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “We could go upstairs.” She ran her finger down his tie. “We could go upstairs and make another baby.”
He got such a surge of blood in his system, she nearly gave him a heart attack. He stared down at her, amusement finally surfacing. “I don’t think so, Jordan.”
She slanted a smoky look up at him, giving him that slow smile again, so blatant that he was sure his toes were beginning to curl. “We could go upstairs, get naked and try out that beautiful big hot tub.”
He gave her an unwavering look, wanting to laugh and strangle her at the same time. “I’m not getting naked with you.”
“Then dance with me.”
Deciding she deserved some of her own back, Murphy caught her against him, then walked her backward to the closet behind the curtains where they stored extra beer. Shoving the door shut behind him, he lowered his head, her breath moist against his mouth. “You wanna play games, princess? I’ll play games.” He gave her a kiss that was meant to shut her up, but it backfired totally, and he was suddenly in over his head. Feeling as if he were trying to breathe under water, he plastered her against him, working his mouth hungrily against hers, her no-holds-barred response making him shudder. She could get him going with a single look, but right now she was doing more than revving his engines. She wanted to fly.
Hauling in oxygen, he tried to ease off, but she moved against him, whispering in his ear. “You might want to check under the dress.”
Knowing he was inches from going under, he ran his hand up her thigh, taking the fabric with him, the satiny lining sending a current through him. Her filmy hosiery stopped at her thigh, and then there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. His heart stopped altogether. He jerked away and looked down at her, certain he was going to simply quit breathing altogether.
She gave him another lazy smile. “I just hate panty lines, don’t you?” He didn’t think he was capable of it, but he gave a huff of stunned laughter, and she moved against him, tracing her long, painted nail along his neck. “And you might want to check your left jacket pocket.”
Laughing, his whole body one big pulse point, wanting to finish what she’d started like he needed his next breath, he looked down at her. “You set me up.”
She unzipped his fly, giving him a caress that just about put him through the roof. “I did.”
Knowing he was going down for the count, he reached behind her and pushed the lock on the door, his heart going into high gear when she caressed him again. “You’re one bad act, Mrs. Munroe,” he said, his knees wanting to buckle.
She looked up at him, sassy, sexy and full of sauce. “But you love me anyway.”
And he knew she believed it. Lifting her up against him, he covered her mouth, putting everything he felt for her in that kiss. It was Christmas, all right, and the magic was there. Because she knew that he loved her—that was the best gift she could ever give him.
The very best gift of all.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5899-0
MURPHY’S CHILD
Copyright © 1999 by Judith Mulholland
All rights reserved Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U S A
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S. A
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S. A, used under licence. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Murphy wanted her.
Letter to Reader
Books by Judith Duncan
/>
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Copyright
Murphy's Child Page 22