“I should have known too. Because I always thought of you as a god.” Her gaze flickered up to meet his, and he sensed the fever in her depths, felt the fire building at her core, beckoning him. She rolled her hips back, lifting her feet and knees off the mattress. He groaned in ecstasy at being seated deeper inside her.
“All you had to do was claim me, Z.”
Some primal instinct arose in him, feral and undeniable.
“I do now. You’re mine,” he stated fiercely before he firmed himself with his hands against the mattress. He began to thrust, long and conquering, claiming victory for both of them. Ursa’s eyes rolled back in her head. She gasped.
“And now I’m yours.”
Epilogue
Three months later
Ursa sat on the terrace, feeling sublimely relaxed and happy as she enjoyed the cool sea air and stared out at the stunning view of Galley Bay and the Caribbean Coast. She heard the bathroom door open behind her. A moment later, she felt a touch on her neck and turned around. Z bent to land a kiss on her lips. She reached up, touching his hand, her fingers automatically finding the platinum band she’d placed on his finger some three months ago.
“You look like a photo for an ad, sitting out here,” Z murmured next to her lips a moment later.
“What am I supposed to represent in this ad?” she asked, amused.
“Vacation bliss? Peaceful Madonna? Smoking hot wife?” His hand slid down her bare arm, his fingertips lightly touching her breast. She shivered. Her breasts had grown an entire cup size during her pregnancy so far. They’d been very sensitive lately…especially to Z’s touch. It was a fact that he recognized immediately, and seemed to enjoy testing. In fact, as keyed into her as he was, he seemed fascinated by all the subtle, and not so subtle, changes occurring in her body. He never missed a doctor’s appointment, and had been as active and involved a partner in her pregnancy as she could have ever dreamed a man would be.
He straightened and sat down in the chair facing her, appearing relaxed and content. His dark hair was still damp from the shower. He wore jeans and a simple white T-shirt that emphasized his powerful chest and arms, in addition to the deep tan he’d gotten just in the past two days on the beach. Dark whiskers shadowed his jaw and upper lip. He looked like the very picture of male virility and insouciant, abundant sexuality.
“You look an ad for pirate decadence,” she murmured.
“Decadence?” He frowned. “There’s nothing decadent about me.”
“You’re wrong about that,” she stated the obvious airily, glancing out at the sapphire blue water.
He grabbed her hand. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I feel wonderful,” she said honestly.
“No fatigue?”
She shook her head. Miraculously, their baby didn’t seem to have a care in the world about the fact that Ursa had been told it was impossible to have him. He just went on, developing with perfect normalcy.
She’d had a pretty difficult time with morning sickness, but that had past now. For the past few weeks, she’d struggled with some fatigue while attending to various items on her punch list for opening the respite home in Columbia. Things were going well in that arena, but she was often tired at the end of the day, if also ecstatically happy in her new life with Z.
“Is it time to go down to the restaurant?” she asked Z.
“Yeah. I got a text from Jude saying that he and Es are already there, and one from Stephen saying he and your mom are on their way.”
“Is it all right if we pick up Sadie at the airport this evening? Her plane gets in at six thirty.”
Sadie’s work had kept her from flying to the Caribbean with them a few days ago. Although she’d originally planned to be there yesterday, the nurse Stephen had hired to stay with Grandpa Joe had had a family emergency, and was unable to start work until tomorrow morning. Sadie had volunteered to stop off in Tahoe Shores and be with Grandpa Joe until the nurse arrived.
“It’s all planned. We’re picking up Sadie tonight, and Jude and Es are picking up Mat in the morning.”
Z stood and took her hand. “Oof,” she muttered when he heaved her up. Z laughed at her show of ungainliness. Her belly growth was still almost unnoticeable, or at least that’s what everyone said. It was just that she felt heavier somehow…like gravity had a greater effect on her than it used to.
“You’ve only gained seven pounds, Ursa. You act like you’re going to start waddling soon.”
“I’ll waddle when I want to,” she told him sternly.
“I expect you will,” he replied, hiding a smile. He put his hand at her waist as they walked inside the room. “Anyway, it’s all planned. We’re picking up Sadie tonight, and Jude and Es are picking up Mat in the morning.”
“I hope Mat’s plane isn’t delayed. The weddings are planned for two o’clock.”
She referred to the double wedding ceremony planned for tomorrow on the beach. Z and she had already married back in December in a private ceremony in Reno. But once Ursa had passed her first trimester and they’d broken the news to Ilsa, Stephen and Grandpa Joe, not only about Ursa’s miraculous pregnancy, but that they were married, wedding plans had started to unroll. When Esme and Jude had heard the truth about their relationship, Esme called Ursa and insisted that they have a ceremony at the same time Esme and Jude were married in Antigua that spring.
At first, Ursa had demurred—she didn’t want to take away focus from the amazing fact that Esme and Jude had gotten together after so many years of being best friends. But then Ilsa had started to try and convince her, and Sadie had joined in on the persuasion.
The final straw had been Z, however. She’d assumed he would dismiss the idea of a glamorous beach wedding, especially since they were already married. But he’d actually voted for the idea, reminding her that he’d said from the start that they could do something for family once she’d advanced in her pregnancy and things were more comfortably settled.
She’d hung the dress she was going to wear for the ceremony tomorrow above the closet, allowing it to air out in the cool sea wind blowing in from the terrace. She paused on the way out the door and touched the tulle of the skirt. It was a dreamy dress, simple for the beach, but elegant and quintessentially romantic.
“You’re going to look amazing in it. But I’ll still never forget the way you looked when you said ‘I do’ the first time. Or the way you looked when I asked you to marry me in my old bedroom at the Lodge, and you said yes,” Z said gruffly next to her ear.
She looked up at him, caught by the intimacy of his tone.
“It’s been amazing so far. Being your wife.”
He smiled and dipped his knees, taking her into his arms.
“You haven’t seen nothing yet, Mrs. Beckett,” he said before he captured her mouth in a heady kiss.
When they eventually got to the beachside restaurant for brunch, they found Stephen, Ilsa and Esme already seated at the table.
“Where’s Jude?” Ursa asked her sister as Z pulled out a chair for her.
“He got a call, and walked down the beach a ways to take it,” Stephen said.
“It was Sadie,” Esme said, frowning at first Z, and then Ursa. “Why do you think she called Jude, and not me, or you, or Mom?” she asked Ursa.
“It is a bit odd,” Ilsa said, gazing out to the beach where Jude walked, his phone next to his ear.
“I have a funny feeling,” Esme said, biting her lower lip.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Ursa assured. Esme had been jittery, due to the wedding tomorrow. Ursa knew it was just excitement and anticipation, though. She’d never seen Esme so happy as she was since she and Jude had gotten together.
“No,” Esme whispered, staring in the direction of the beach. For some reason, a feeling of dread passed through Ursa, as well. Ursa reached for Z, needing
his warmth. As if he’d sensed her strange trepidation, Z immediately enfolded her hand in his.
“What is it?” Esme asked Jude tensely when he eventually returned. Because it was clear now, from Jude’s fierce, anxious expression that Esme was right. Something was wrong. “Jude? Is it Sadie?” Esme demanded.
“No, it’s not Sadie. I mean, it was Sadie on the phone. But she was calling about Mat.”
“Mat?” Ursa and Esme said at once.
“Yeah. Actually, it’s… it’s Shelly,” Jude said grimly, referring to Mat’s wife. “She’s dead.”
“What?” Esme asked, standing so abruptly that she knocked the table over several inches.
“Yeah. She’s been murdered.” He grimaced. “She was shot eight times.”
“Oh my God,” Ursa muttered, chills passing through her.
“I can’t believe this,” Ilsa muttered to Stephen. Z’s hand tightened on Ursa’s. They stared at Jude, and then at each other, in mute shock.
“That’s not all,” Jude said grimly, his gaze locked on Esme. “Sadie says Mat is being questioned by the police. Sadie thinks there’s a good chance he’s going to arrested for Shelly’s murder any time now. She said to apologize to you, because she didn’t make her plane to get here. Since Mat doesn’t have any family left, Sadie and Grandpa Joe were the only people he had to support him during all this.”
“Of course Sadie should be at Tahoe, not here. How horrible for Mat,” Esme muttered. Suddenly, her distracted manner disappeared, and she met Jude’s stare squarely. “We have to get to Tahoe Shores, too. The Bear Clan is the only family Mat has. It’s not like Shelly’s family is going to stand by him, given the circumstances.”
“I agree. We should try to catch a plane out later this afternoon, so that we can be there for Mat,” Jude said, his gaze fierce and burning on his fiancé. “But not until you marry me first, Esme. I’m not leaving this island until you’re my wife.”
Several hours later, Ursa carefully packed the romantic, unworn white dress before she closed her suitcase and zipped it shut. Z’s arms suddenly slid behind her waist and bottom, and she was being lifted off the floor. Cradling her in his arms, he carried her over to the large king-sized bed in their hotel suite, and laid her down on the bedspread. He sat on the edge, leaning down over her. He kissed her mouth.
She smiled up at him.
“What are you doing? We have to meet everyone downstairs to catch the cab for the airport in—”
“Ten minutes. We have ten minutes,” Z interrupted gruffly, his warm breath brushing across her lips. “And you can’t honestly believe that Jude isn’t going to keep Esme in their room until the last possible second. We’re not the ones who are going to be late,” he said wryly.
Ursa laughed. He was undoubtedly right.
“Why’d you do it? Why’d you turn down wearing your pretty dress, and getting married next to Jude and Es out on the beach earlier?”
“I couldn’t Z,” she whispered. “It’s bad enough for Esme, that a shadow was cast on her wedding, with Mat being suspected of Shelly’s death. I didn’t think we should take any more of the limelight away from their special moment than the circumstances already had.” She reached up and stroked his solid, curving biceps. “Besides, we couldn’t be any more married than we already are. You know it was just an exercise, for family.”
He nodded, staring at her face thoughtfully. “You’re really worried, aren’t you? About Mat.”
“I don’t believe for a second he had anything to do with murdering someone. Let alone his wife. And Shelly was shot eight times. Z, that’s a crime of passion,” Ursa said, sickened by the gross violence. She’d never been a huge fan of Shelly, but no one deserved to die like that.
“And we all know that Mat never seemed to have much passion for Shelly at all, even though he always stuck by her. He didn’t even seem passionate when they got married as teenagers. We all assumed it was a shotgun wedding,” Z said grimly. “That’s what you’ve been thinking, isn’t it?”
Ursa nodded, sharing a worried glance with Z. She knew that he was as bewildered as she was by the DaRosa’s seemingly toxic marriage, and the reason Mat stayed with Shelly all these years. It made her uncomfortable, given the circumstances of Shelly’s death. But Ursa was being honest when she proclaimed Mat’s certain innocence.
“I mean…you don’t think it’s possible, do you? That Mat could do something like that?” she asked Z.
“No way. I can’t imagine there’s a person alive who knows Mat that would ever suspect that. If people heard a rumor about me doing something crazy like that five years ago, maybe there’d be a concern. But Mat?”
Her fingers tightened on his dense muscle. “Stop saying things like that about yourself.”
He blinked at her sudden fierceness. A smile flashed across his swarthy face, the vision causing a fluttering sensation in Ursa’s chest. She wondered if it would ever stop: her reaction to his smiles. They crossed his face more and more frequently now, but they never became less potent.
“Still on the warpath about that, aren’t you?” he teased her.
“You’ve got to get used to sounding more confident. You’ve promised to teach mechanics and computer design one night a week at the vocational center of the respite home, whenever I get it up and running. It’s just another reason for you to get used to acknowledging your massive worth, and not put yourself down.”
“I won’t have any problem being confident in a garage with a tool in my hand,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But I guess you’re right. I should try harder not to sound like a pitiful fuck.”
She shook her head, unable to stop her grin at his rough self-assessment. His eyelids grew heavy as he leaned down and deliberately kissed first her lips, then pressed his mouth to her curved belly. “Besides, how can I sound like a sad sap when I’ve got to be the luckiest man in existence?” he murmured.
Their gazes met, messages of love and gratitude passing between them powerfully and silently. She raked her fingers through his thick hair.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she asked him. “That something so scary and awful could be happening to Mat, while Esme and Jude finally came together after all these years with so much joy on that beach an hour ago, and you and I—”
“Have been blessed? In so many ways?”
His hand spread over her belly while their gazes remained locked.
“Yes,” she whispered, her throat aching at the redemption and love she read in his eyes.
“Don’t count Mat out, baby girl. He’ll get through this,” Z rasped before he leaned down over her, his mouth brushing against hers. “Mat’s an orphan, just like Jude and me. He might seem smooth on the surface, but he’s as stubborn as a bull and as tough as iron. Mat’s story is far from over.”
A Note from the Author
I hope you enjoyed Z and Ursa’s story! Of course you probably are now left wondering: Who killed Shelly DaRosa, and what is going on between Mat and Sadie? You won’t have long to wait to discover all the dangerous, heart-wrenching, and steamy details of this couple’s tragic history and eventual, well-earned happily-ever-after. Look for Wild, Desperate Hearts in the fall of 2019. But for now, check out this sneak peek of Mat and Sadie’s tumultuous and passionate love story!
Wild, Desperate Hearts
Wild Hearts, Book 3
By Beth Kery
Sadie brought the rental car to a halt in the parking lot of the Washoe County Sherriff’s office in Reno, her gaze fixed on the silver Jeep Wrangler in front of her. It was Mat’s vehicle. It was proof positive that what Shelly DaRosa’s mother had said was true.
Mat was a suspect in the murder of his wife. This was real.
She couldn’t bear to think of it: Mat being questioned by grim, suspicious detectives, sitting in a jail cell alone and helpless, cut off from anyone who cared…
&n
bsp; From anyone who loved him.
And all the while, the woman he’d chosen to spend his life with had been brutally murdered.
Sadie gave the wheel a white-knuckled grip before she inhaled slowly, solidifying her determination. It can’t be that bad. He’d clearly driven here on his own. It’s not as if the police had handcuffed him and brought him here in cruiser with sirens blaring.
Forty-five minutes later, she found herself sitting alone in an interview room of the Forensic Investigation Section. She glanced uneasily at the window directly in front of her, seeing herself and the metal table in the reflection of the glass, and nothing else. Her hair and face showed up starkly pale in the black, shiny surface. She was an actress. Her image had appeared on millions of screens across the world. She was used to having her image openly on display.
But at that moment, the eyes that she knew studied her on the other side of that glass did so in secret. The imagined observation made her want to cringe. She could almost see the narrowed, speculative stares and hear the muttered questions.
Did you know Sadie Esterbrook was from this area?
They say she went to high school with DaRosa and the deceased.
What do you think she’s going to say? Damn, the press is going to eat this shit up.
Do you think Mat DaRosa and her were sleeping together?
You don’t suppose Sadie Esterbrook could be involved in the murder too, do you?
She heard a clicking sound and jumped like a gun had gone off.
“Sorry,” the man who had just entered the room said sheepishly. He had swarthy skin and gray hair at his temples. His tie was in place, but his suit and shirt appeared rumpled, like he’d either slept in it, or had been working in it all night. He carried a file and notebook in his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Detective Marco,” he said, holding out his free hand to her. Sadie stood and shook it.
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