To Love and Protect

by Lindsay McKenna

  "Oh, Niall...no!" Brie whispered brokenly. "We could have cried together, darling. We could have held one another and cried over our mutual loss. That would have comforted me. It could have helped you, too."

  "You'd never seen me cry, Brie. Not ever. How could I do it then, at the worst time in our lives, just when you needed me the most?"

  "You crazy fool," she sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck and holding him tightly, "you got this all wrong! If you had cried, I wouldn't have thought you weak or a wimp. Just the opposite! A real man can let down and cry, Niall. He can show his emotions when he needs to. No woman in her right mind is going to say you're weak for doing that. Oh, I hate what this society has done to men and women! I hate that it has branded you with the idea that you're not allowed to feel. That you can't cry. That it's somehow not manly or brave to show your feelings." Sobbing in anger, Brie said, "Niall, cry with me. Fight with me. Yell with me. Make up with me. Always show your feelings. Don't withhold them from me anymore. I can handle your emotions. What I can't handle is your silence. Your running away without telling me why."

  "I understand now, sweetheart. I do...." But it was too late and Niall knew it. The raft was wobbling, riding up one wave, tippling for a moment, then sliding down into the next trough. The darkness was nearly complete. Lifting his head, he studied Brie's upturned face, branding the moment of it into his mind, heart and soul, because he feared it was going to be the last view he'd ever have of her. Her eyes were so wide and fraught with pain and love for him. He saw it all and reveled with joy over the unexpected gift that had come out of this tragedy. Stroking his hand awkwardly across her head, feeling her hair wet and thick beneath his shaking fingers, he tried to smile down at her.

  "Whatever happens, darlin'," he told her, "I love you. Just remember that, okay?" He kept caressing her cheek. Kept smiling down at her because more than anything, Niall wanted Brie to know that she was and always had been the most important person in his life—ever.

  Stunned by his huskily spoken words Brie drowned in his warm, stormy gray eyes. That cocky Irish smile of Niall's was her undoing. As his hand moved in trembling strokes across her head, as if to soothe and calm her, she managed a wobbly smile in return.

  "I never stopped loving you, Niall." Her voice broke with unshed tears. "Not ever, darling...and when we drown out here tonight, I'll hold you until the last breath of air leaves my body. And when we find ourselves on the other side, we can reach out for one another. We can walk the Rainbow Bridge as one. We'll never be apart again...."

  His heart aching with sadness, frustration and need, Niall absorbed every shaking word Brie spoke. How he'd loved her view of life, thanks to her Native American heritage. There was no hell in her belief system; only goodness and hope waited on the other side after one died. Easing his arms from around her, he framed her face, his mouth inches from hers.

  With tears flooding his eyes, Niall whispered, "I've loved you with every cell of my being, Brie. I'll always love you, not matter what happens. You're mine, sweetheart. You always were and always will be, whether you knew it or not...." And he leaned down and pressed his mouth hotly against her parted lips.

  Brie moaned as his mouth hungrily met hers. This was a kiss of greeting—and a kiss of farewell. It was a kiss to make up for those two painful years of separation. As his mouth rocked against hers, Brie tightened her arms around him and clung as tightly as she could. Her breasts pushed against his chest. Their hearts pounded together in a primal rhythm only lovers could feel and exult in.

  Brie's lips were soft, inviting, the kiss haunting, breaking his heart, lifting his soul and plunging him into an abyss of regret over things that would never be. And yet, he reveled in the outrageous joy of finding her once again. The sweetness of her mouth, her punctuated breath against his cheek, the fervent welcome she gave him all lifted Niall's heart on sunlit wings.

  As the storm raged around them, lifting the raft and slamming it down in ever deepening troughs, salty froth flew across them, like foam from a rabid dog's mouth. As Niall kissed her, he breathed his breath into her mouth and dragged hers into his body. Their lips were hungry, searching and needy. As he pressed his hand down her long, strong spine to capture her wide, flaring hips against him, the aching need to love her, to claim her once more, surged through Niall like a tidal wave. Truly loving her was impossible under the circumstances, and as he slowly, reluctantly released her soft, wet mouth and looked deeply into her half-closed eyes, which were burning with need for him, he was speechless. No words could express how he felt in this moment out of time. Only the anguish, joy and hope in Brie's eyes told him how she felt about him. He saw the regrets in her gaze. The hope for a future. And the realization that there was no future to hope for. What he saw most clearly, though, was her love for him. Brie loved him. She'd never stopped loving him. The horrible guilt and regrets of two years dissolved as he held her closely in his arms and absorbed her warm, loving gaze.

  "If I had one wish," he told her huskily, his voice cracking, "it would be to take you in my arms, love you until you fainted with pleasure, and then know you carried our next child in your body."

  Unable to talk, Brie smiled at him sadly. As night descended, Niall's shadowed face became almost invisible. The rain was beginning again. The roar of the wind was stronger, the movements of the raft more violent. "If I had one wish, darling," she whispered against his ear, her hands framing his wet face, "it would be to carry your child again. A child made from pure love. Our love..."

  A sob wracked Niall. He didn't try to stop it this time. Whispering her name brokenly, he swept Brie into his arms and held her so tightly that he thought he might crack her ribs. Burying his helmeted head next to hers, his face pressed against that strong shoulder that had carried so many heavy burdens by herself, he cried. The sounds tearing out of him were feral, as if a wild animal had been released from deep within. Brie's womanly arms, warm and strong held him close. Held him with all her strength, caring and love.

  There was no shame in crying, he discovered as he clung to her, the sobs coming from his dark, guilty soul over the loss of their baby, the loss of any future with Brie. The primitive animal sounds of his grief were torn from him as the hurricane raged unchecked around them.

  The raft was filling with water. The tears streaming down his face mingled with the ocean's salt spray. And through it all, Brie held him, rocked him gently and eased his grief, his pain. And the awful two years of hell finally were given voice, and left him once and for all.

  As his sobs lessened, Niall felt a sense of cleanness. He was amazed. There was a new strength, a new resolve, a new hope filling him now. His mind was so much mush, but the brilliant illumination of his heart, the inner glow of his untrammeled emotions, freed for the first time in his life, left him feeling stronger than ever before. As he sat there with Brie holding him, Niall began to understand, finally, that crying wasn't bad. In fact, he'd never felt better—lighter or happier. So this was what women had known all along that men had denied: that crying was an incredible freeing of feelings and pain. It was a natural purging and cleansing of what felt bad within him, and the release gave his heart and soul a new, brilliant life. It also gave Niall a fierce hope he'd never had before.

  As he lifted his head, kissed her wet brow, he looked up. Was he seeing things? Light was shining through the storm.

  "Brie? Do you see that?" he asked, pointing through the maelstrom. "Am I hallucinating?"

  Brie twisted around, her gaze following where Niall was pointing. She saw a light flashing on and off. It came and went, because of the waves lifting them up and dropping them again.

  "Oh, my God, Niall! That's a Coast Guard ship!"

  Gasping, he stared into the night. When the raft slid down into a trough, the light disappeared. Would it be there when they were lifted upward again? His heart pounded with dread, with hope. He gripped Brie by the shoulders. Breath suspended, he felt her tense beside him. He couldn't be making th
is up. It had to be a Coast Guard cutter!

  As the raft surged upward, Niall cried out, "It's them! It's an SAR vessel!" He quickly fumbled with his flashlight, turned it on and waved it frantically above their heads.

  Brie sobbed. A cutter! The Coast Guard had sent a cutter into this horrible hurricane to hunt for them. The vessel probably had equipment on board to pick up the radio signals being beamed from their vests.

  Sure enough, the light grew stronger. She pulled out her flashlight and began waving it, too. Joy surged through Brie. They were going to be rescued!

  "Oh, Niall!" she cried. "We're saved!"

  Laughing wildly, he gripped her shoulder as he waved the flashlight. "We are! Sweetheart, we're going to be fine. We're gonna live through this!" He looked at her in wonder. He could barely see Brie's expression in the dim illumination coming from their flashlights. But he could see that the hope was there. Her eyes were filled with joy.

  Somehow, the universe had granted them a second chance. As he watched the light from the cutter growing stronger by the minute, he grasped the fact that rescue was coming. The crew had spotted them and had a solid fix on their position. It would be only a matter of time and they'd be safe. Safe!

  More than anything, Niall wanted this rescue. When they got home, back to the station, he wanted time alone with Brie. Time to talk without the threat of dying. Time to try and mend the past and talk about a future that would include both of them.

  As he knelt in the rubber dingy, one arm around Brie's shoulders, the other waving the flashlight to help the cutter hone in on their location, Niall felt trepidation, joy, anxiety and panic.

  Was there a chance for them now? Or had the admissions they'd both made come under the duress of dying? Would Brie feel the same way tomorrow? Niall wasn't certain, but one thing he knew for sure now: he wasn't going to abandon her again. He wasn't going to run away this time. He was going to face Brie honestly, warts and all. She deserved that from him. No, he wasn't his father's son; he was going to prove that to Brie. This was one battle he wasn't running from. Niall was being given a second chance to prove he was a far better man than his father had ever struggled to be.

  ♥ Scanned by Coral ♥

  Chapter 6

  "Are you ready to go home?" Niall asked as he came and stood next to Brie, once the doctor had finished examining her. She sat on a gurney, dressed in tan slacks and a colorful short-sleeved blouse. Like him, she'd dressed in civilian clothes she kept in her station locker. As she lifted her head, her blue eyes shimmering with quiet joy, he managed a slight, sheepish grin. His heart bounded with unparalleled happiness.

  "Your home or mine?"

  Niall waited as the doctor finished filling out her report form and left. The door closed quietly behind her. They were alone. Finally. Reaching up, he grazed Brie's pink cheek with his fingers. "Mine." Where you belong. With me. Like it should have been all along. Her lips parted softly at his feathery touch. The look he thought he'd never see again, was in her eyes. It was a look of love—for him.

  Sliding off the gurney, Brie retrieved her black uniform purse and hung it over her left shoulder. Her heart was beating hard with excitement and anticipation. "I'm ready. Let's go home...."

  The words sounded wonderful. As if in a dream, Niall nodded and opened the door for her. They were at the Coast Guard station medical dispensary. After spending two days at sea aboard the Coast Guard cutter that had rescued them, they'd finally made it to shore.

  The welcome at the station had been nothing short of overwhelming. Morgan Trayhern had embraced them, tears in his eyes, he was so glad that they were safe. Best of all, his mercenary, Burke Ormand, had contacted him, and his cover was still intact and he was fine. After receiving a lot of handshakes, claps to the back, hugs and tears of relief that they were safe, Brie and Niall had been hustled off to the dispensary for the obligatory medical checkup that any pilots went through after a crash. When they were aboard the cutter, they'd filled out individual reports on the crash, and now administration was looking at their paperwork.

  Moving out into the passageway of the highly polished white tile, Brie looked over at Niall as he walked at her side. As officers of equal rank, they could have a personal relationship. However, they were on a military base and no hand-holding or any show of affection was allowed. Brie itched to reach out and slide her hand into Niall's, but she stopped herself.

  Outside, the weather was clearing. Miraculously the hurricane had suddenly veered away from Kauai, so the rough ride on the ship had become smoother as they approached the island. Niall was grateful, because he'd been seasick from the moment they'd been picked up out of that cold, black sea. The two days aboard the cutter they'd spent sleeping, eating and getting themselves together emotionally once more. There hadn't been a lot of time to speak intimately with one another. Both had been put into the hospital dispensary, where they had remained for the voyage home. With medical technicians always hovering around, or the doctor, Niall found it impossible to speak privately with Brie. He had so much to say, so much he wanted to tell her. Now, they would have a chance.

  Brie entered the small bungalow Niall had. It was a cozy place filled with bamboo furniture, a red-yel-low-and-olive-green Oriental rug on the floor, and photos of bright hibiscus flowers hanging on the beige walls. Her heart jumped with shock when she spotted a small bamboo table near one wall that held a number of photos in silver and gold frames. As Niall closed the door to his home, she went over and looked at them.

  To her surprise she saw that many were photos of their wedding ceremony. Her heart squeezed as she saw a color photo of herself standing in profile, her belly growing big with their baby. She was smiling toward Niall, who had taken that proud photo. Poignantly, Brie remembered that day. She'd been standing outside their home, the wind playing with her hair, which fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were burning with joy, her hands caressed her swelling belly, and a look of love filled her face—love for Niall.

  Niall moved quietly to her side and slipped his hand gently across her shoulders as she stared down at the photos. "Good memories," he told her in a husky tone.

  His touch was warming. Brie twisted to look up at him. His face was no longer tense with strain. She still saw remnants of the trauma in his features, the darkness beneath his eyes. They'd nearly died. But in a near-death experience, they'd found one another again, too. Her voice was low. "Yes...good memories. The best, Niall."

  His fingers closed across her shoulder and he turned her to face him. Erie's hand went around his waist and she rested her head against his shoulder. "We can have them again, Brie," he murmured. "I know we can. We just have to work at it differently this time." Niall's heart squeezed with terror. Would she want to try and get back together again with him? He wasn't sure. Just because she'd said she loved him out there on that storm-tossed ocean didn't mean she wanted to marry him, or live with him, again. He gazed down at her soft profile. When she looked up at him, he saw tears swimming in her turquoise eyes. Her lashes were thick and framed her shimmering eyes. Brie was incredibly beautiful to him, from the freckles that ranged across her nose and cheeks, to her straight red hair, which made her eyes her most prominent feature. She looked like a beauty from an old Renaissance painting to him.

  "I meant what I said out there in that raft, Niall."

  "That you never stopped loving me?"

  Swallowing, Brie nodded. "I tried to stop loving you after I asked for a divorce." Shaking her head, she reached out and touched the last photograph. "But I couldn't. You weren't a bad person. Just...mixed up and confused. I knew the score, and I knew why you were the way you were. I knew it going into our marriage, but I believed that with time, you'd change and grow, and we'd open up those channels between us."

  Nodding sadly, Niall whispered, "I was pretty stupid, darling."

  "No, just scared and unsure. You had to learn to trust me with yourself, Niall." Brie searched his saddened face. "And you have. Out there in that ocean
, after the crash. That's where we learned to trust one another for the first time in our lives."

  "Yes," he whispered. "I trust you now as never before. And I'm not going to be afraid to tell you what's on my mind or what's in my heart."

  She smiled gently and eased her arms around his broad, capable shoulders. Their hips met and melted against one another. "Here's what's in my heart, sweetheart," she whispered.

  Niall cocked his head. Her eyes glimmered with mischief and joy. "Tell me...and it's yours...." he murmured.

  "I want you. I want to lie in your arms. Make love with you. Reacquaint myself with you in all ways." Brie slid her hand across his recently shaved face. "What's in your heart?"

  Smiling unevenly, Niall whispered, "You. I want you so badly I can taste you. I want to love you until you faint with pleasure, Brie. I want to make you happy. I want to see that smile I used to see after we'd made love. I want to kiss your luscious, sweet mouth...."

  "Can we bring the past to life again?"

  "Yes," he answered, his voice deepening, "we can...."

  The queen-size bed with the bamboo head- and footboard was covered with a cream-colored duvet decorated with emerald green bamboo stalks. The window was made of stained glass, the weak rays of sunlight filtering through it casting a rainbow of colors across the bed. There was a bamboo dresser and a bedstand with a pale green lamp on it. The floor was a gleaming teakwood, Brie noted, as she eased off her shoes.

  Standing near Niall, she began to slowly undress him, one item of clothing at a time. He was wearing that mysterious smile that had haunted her dreams. The look in his eyes as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, one button at a time, sent heat flowing from her heart to her lower body. Brie melted beneath his hooded gray gaze as he eased the blouse from her shoulders. She never wore a bra because of her small breasts, only a white silk camisole, which he divested her of.