Captive of Fate (16 page)

“You are mine,” he murmured huskily. “I knew that from the moment I saw you. I wanted all of you, Alanna. Not just your lovely body, but you as well.”

“How can you be so sure?” she whispered, her voice still wispy.

He shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Experience maybe.”

Alanna shivered deliciously beneath his exploring touch as he caressed her soft curves. Her logical mind was not functioning at all, and she felt almost incoherent, not really listening to his words as much as to the husky tenor of them.”

“I love you, Alanna,” he said simply, studying her, a slight frown in his eyes. “This is the second time in my life that it’s happened, and I don’t want to lose you like I lost Rachel.” He smoothed a rebellious strand of hair off her damp brow. “You’re part of every waking and sleeping thought I have, honey. I was so damn lonely when you left Costa Rica, and then we had to deal with this furor over Thornton’s report.” He stopped, looking beyond her toward the river. “From now on, I want to see you whenever I please.” He turned, watching her. “What do you think?”

Her heart hammered briefly in her chest. Three words, spoken so softly and with such tenderness: He loved her! “Oh, Matt,” she whispered brokenly, moving back into his embrace. She sobbed quietly, and he held her for a long, long time until the tears were spent. Finally, she pulled away just enough to shakily wipe her flushed cheeks dry. He gave a low laugh, taking his hand and brushing away some of the tears himself. Placing his finger beneath her chin, he forced her to meet his intent gaze.

“I love you. Now and forever, Alanna.”

She blinked, a tremulous smile upon her lips. “And I love you, Matt. Oh, God, don’t ask me how or when…. One morning I woke up and I knew that I—” She choked back a sob. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”

They spent a delicious half-hour dressing each other beneath the dappled shade of the tall oak that stood near the bank of the river. Alanna was content to rest against his body afterward as he leaned back against the trunk of the tree, idly watching the green surface of the river swirl and eddy with hidden currents. Her heart mushroomed with an explosion of joy as she lay in his arms, head against his shoulder, eyes closed.

Matt nuzzled her cheek gently. “You know, for the longest time after Rachel died, I thought I’d never love again,” he began huskily. “I loved her so damn much, Alanna. I married late because I knew my career in the Marine Corps would be taking me from one base to another, and I just didn’t want to subject my family to that kind of stress.”

She reached up, resting her hand against his strong forearm. “How long did you know her?” she inquired softly.

“For five years before I married her.” He exhaled painfully. “Waiting was the biggest mistake of my life. I should have married her at the outset.”

“And how long were you married before the crash?”

He bent his head down, leaning against her neck, his breath warm as it fanned across her face. “Two years. Beautiful happy years, even though I spent all but ten months in Vietnam.” Finally, he raised his head, staring off toward the river. “In some ways, she was like you. Rachel had a hell of a temper. You never knew what she would be like on any given day. But she was artistic and had a volatile personality to match. I didn’t keep very many of her paintings, but someday soon I’d like to show you the two I did keep.”

Alanna nodded. “I’d love to see them. She must have been a woman of incredible depth, Matt.”

He turned, kissing her temple. “Like you, honey.”

She managed a grimace. “I’m locked into lobbying, statistics, facts and figures. I don’t find that very creative.”

“Mmm, I think there’s much more to you than that job. You just need to be given the room and encouragement to explore the other facets of yourself.”

“Sometimes I don’t know what you see in me, Matt. I’m afraid I don’t see the same potential you do,” she whispered painfully.

He tightened his arms around her for a moment. “As a child you said you stayed in your room and wrote story after story. Who knows, maybe you have a hidden talent for writing just waiting to be sprung loose.”

A soft smile curved her lips. “You give so many hope and encouragement. I wish I had known your parents, because their strength gave you the courage to do whatever was asked of you. They passed on the will to survive, to attempt anything that you thought you might want to try. God, how fortunate you were, Matt.”

“I was,” he agreed. “You find a lot of New Englanders are made out of some pretty stiff starch, as they say.”

“I never realized just how beautiful Maine is,” she murmured.

“Not half as lovely as the woman I’m holding in my arms,” he murmured, guiding her chin upward.

Her lashes swept down across her cheeks as her lips met his strong mouth. The touch was tentative, searching, exquisitely gentle with love. She reached around, slipping her arms behind his neck, drawing his body to her. This hour, this day would be indelibly etched in her memory forever.

It seemed as though they had always belonged together, she thought languidly. They spent the remainder of the afternoon talking, sharing and laughing. The richness of his wisdom continued to amaze her, and she asked more and more questions. Through him another new world was opening up, and it simply awed her. Finally, he urged her to her feet, and taking her hand, he led her down an old trail.

The goldenrods waved their yellow-flowered heads, nodding in the late afternoon breeze as Matt and Alanna crossed a small meadow. The grass was withering with frost but still stood knee high. At the other end of the field stood an old gnarled oak bent with age. Alanna sat beneath its weather-beaten branches while Matt leaned lazily against it just above her. They remained silent, watching the honey bees making their last forays to gather food before the severe winter left the area blanketed in heavy snowfall. The chirping of crickets and the cooing of a mourning dove somewhere in the distance blended beautifully with the drowsy sounds of the afternoon.

Matt finally hunkered down on his heels beside her. “I used to come here with Rachel often after we were first married. It became an even more special place when she brought me here one day to tell me she was pregnant.”

Through half-closed eyes Alanna idly watched a yellow and black monarch butterfly waft across the unseen air currents drifting through the meadow. She returned her gaze to Matt, sliding her fingers lightly across his arm.

’I can’t begin to understand the depth of your grief,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’ve tried to imagine the loss of—of—” She flushed, unable to complete the sentence.

“Losing Rachel and the baby was indescribable,” he whispered. He expelled a painful breath. “Jim Cauley was the chopper pilot assigned to our group at that time. He happened to be there when I received the news of my family’s death. If it hadn’t been for him, I probably would have lost it completely. He helped me get my gear packed and saw me off to Da Nang, where I boarded a flight back to the States.”

She trailed her fingers down his darkly tanned forearm, entwining her fingers within his. “He’s a true friend in every sense of the word,” she said. “Somehow you survived all of it and are stronger because of it.”

He shared a rueful smile with her. “The only way we get stronger is to survive the hardships life throws at us.”

She nodded in agreement. “Why is it we only grow strong when we experience pain? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could develop that sort of backbone from happiness and joy?”

“Fate sometimes plays with a marked deck,” he answered. “You weren’t exactly dealt a fair hand either, lady.”

“I feel like my problems were minimal compared to what you’ve had to endure,” she admitted. “My loss occurred when I was too young to remember.”

Matt drew her hand upward, kissing the coolness of her flesh. “Not remembered, but never forgotten. Tell me, Alanna McIntire, what do you plan on doing with the rest of your life?” he asked.

“Work, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I know this probably sounds silly, but I’m not sure. Ever since I left Paul, I’ve felt like a cork floating on the ocean. My world revolves around the Hill and politics.”

He was studying her through his thick dark lashes. “You don’t dream of rising above your position of assistant to a senator? What about becoming Thornton’s chief lobbying associate? You’ve certainly got the intelligence, education and moxie to fill that job.”

The afternoon breeze blew several strands of hair across her eyes, and she pulled them back, tucking them behind her ear. “Moxie. That’s a good word.” She looked up and met his warm gaze.

“It suits your Hungarian fieriness. So, what are your ambitions?” he prodded.

Alanna moistened her lips, thoughtfully phrasing her words. “I’d love to be responsible for certain aspects of the senator’s work.” She had not honestly given it a great deal of thought before. She shook her head. “Since I’ve met you, my job has become less important. What about you? Are you a thirty-year man, as the military slang goes?”

He rested his head against the trunk, closing his eyes. “No. I’ve got two more years to complete the mandatory twenty, and then I’m retiring.”

“Retiring at age thirty-eight must be nice,” she baited.

“Jealously will get you nowhere,” he countered good-naturedly.

“You’ve earned it,” Alanna said, conviction in her tone. “So, are you going to pull out your rocking chair and write your memoirs?”

“No,” he said slowly, watching her facial expression intently. “I already have a job lined up with a firm in Colorado to manage their bridge-building division as soon as I get my discharge.”

He must have read the surprise etched in her widening blue eyes. “Anything wrong with that?” he demanded, his voice humorous.

Alanna blinked, realizing the effect his plans might have on her life. She had taken it for granted that Matt would always be near. Of course, it was absurd to expect him to stay in D.C. when he disliked politics so strongly. He was watching her, his gray eyes narrowed and unreadable. “No,” she stumbled lamely, searching desperately for an excuse for her shock. “It’s so hard for me to get rid of the Marine image, that’s all.”

“It’s only an image,” he insisted.

She shook her head. “You’ll never leave the military behind completely. The squaring of your shoulders and your confident stride will show no matter what you do, Matt.” She forced a smile she did not feel. “There’s a sense of authority about you….”

“All civil engineers have that aura of power,” he explained with a drawl. “You see, we like to build, mold and shape things out of the natural fabric of the earth and call them our own. I find building infinitely more positive than carrying around a rifle and hand grenades, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. I just can’t get over the difference between Matt Breckenridge the Marine colonel and Matt Breckenridge the man who is worshiped by children and loves nature so much.”

“All human beings have many facets,” he interjected softly, pulling her close and resting his cheek against her hair. “Like you. You love children, too, if I’m not mistaken.”

“There’s been a part of me that’s wanted children,” she confessed quietly. “I wanted to give at least one baby a chance to be loved by a mother and a father. I may not have known my parents, but I can give the love I missed to someone else.”

He brushed her hair with a kiss. “You’d make a wonderful mother.”

She felt a new surge of elation coursing through her as she lingered over the thought of carrying his child. How much love would be showered upon their baby!

They remained in each other’s arms for another half-hour. The magic of the autumn meadow spun a sense of euphoria about them. Gently, Matt nudged her out of the spell, and she raised her head from his broad shoulder.

“If we want to eat, we’d better get back to fishing,” he whispered, pulling her upward.

Alanna fell gracefully back into his arms, swaying against him, relishing the hardness and strength of his male body. Sliding her hands around his neck, she raised her lips to his, initiating the kiss. A groan vibrated deep from within his chest as her lips met his descending, predatory mouth. The world tilted crazily beneath her feet as she drank deeply of his mouth, dizzied by his tantalizing male scent. Her heart sang with so much joy that she wondered fleetingly if it were possible to explode with happiness. His hand moved insistently down the length of her arched spine, capturing her hips, pulling her roughly against him, and making her acutely aware of his arousal. She gazed up in wonder at his fiery, silver eyes, the impact of his passion and desire for her leaving her stunned.

They rested against each other for a moment, overwhelmed at the emotional storm created by their brief contact. Alanna did not have the necessary strength to stand on her own two feet. Finally Matt whispered. “I’m starved, but it’s for you.”

She nodded faintly, her lashes sweeping downward like thick crescent fans against her ivory skin. “I know,” she answered breathlessly.

“You aren’t going to be safe in the cabin tonight, lady,” he growled in warning. He released her, and they slowly began to walk back toward the river, meandering through the secluded meadow, leaning against one another.

Alanna tried to take the fishing seriously, but Matt’s nearness distracted her. After an hour, Matt had hooked a flounder, which he proudly displayed to her. The fish was odd-looking, with both its eyes located on one side of its flat head. Alanna wrinkled her nose.

“I never realized just how ugly flounder is,” she confided, catching the laughter in his eyes.

“Don’t knock it,” he said. “That’s our dinner.”

She made no attempt to follow him as he took the catch back to the cabin to clean. His parting words were, “You stay here and enjoy the view.”

He ambled back sometime later and propped himself up against the tree, gently pulling her back into his arms. Alanna closed her eyes, content. He leaned over, brushing her hair with a kiss.

“Nice to hear the sounds of nature instead of D.C. rush hour traffic, isn’t it?” he whispered.

“Mmm, no traffic, honking horns, fumes, or people giving each other nasty hand signals.”