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Authors: Fiona Brand

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Cole's words finally penetrated his haze of parental devotion. “Sympathy?” Cullen echoed.
“Yeah.” Cole bent down and touched one fingertip to the baby's tiny fist. She clutched his finger with the surprising strength Cullen had already discovered. “It's some responsibility having one of these little sweethearts around. If she's anything like that wildcat mother of hers, you'll be on guard duty for the rest of your life Better try to make it a boy next time.”
“There won't be a next time,” Cullen growled. He didn't ever want Rachel to go through all that pain again, no matter how wonderful the result was.
“Yeah, right,” Cole said with a grin “Next time. Welcome to the family. Rachel always said she wanted to have at least four, and to my clear and certain knowledge, she always gets what she wants. One way or the other.”
 
“I hope they never succeed,” Cullen said several weeks later
Rachel's heart skipped a beat, as it always did when she watched Cullen with their tiny daughter. He'd just changed Kate's nappy and put her down for the night in her bassinet.
“Never succeed at what?” she asked as she walked into the bedroom they'd redecorated as a nursery.
Cullen adjusted the lightweight quilt so Kate wouldn't get too hot The contrast of his big, tanned hand against the delicate apricot cotton brought a lump to Rachel's throat Partly because the contrast symbolised his strength and gentleness, but mostly because he was wearing his wedding ring. He'd been wearing the plain gold band when he'd come to see her and Kate in hospital the day after Rachel had given birth. Cullen hadn't directly mentioned the ring, simply picked up her left hand with his, laced their fingers together and kissed her. Something akin to an electric shock had travelled through her at the reverence of the caress. She'd felt a powerful sense of déjà vu. If they'd been back in church, repeating their vows, the sense of emotional commitment couldn't have been more intense.
“At cutting men out of the procreation business,” Cullen replied absently. He turned and drew in his breath when he saw what Rachel was wearing. “Where in hell did you get that?” he asked thickly.
It had been six weeks since the birth, the cyclone, and Hayward's ignominious end in a police cell, and in all that time he hadn't seen Rachel in anything other than loose shirts and bike pants. This lacy creation revealed more than it covered, and just the sight of it turned him to pure steel.
“I bought it last week. It's for our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?” he echoed roughly.
She brushed past him. It was deliberate. He actually felt her hardened nipple against his arm. There was perfume, too, something softly sweet and sensual that tore up his insides.
She bent over the bassinet, fussing with the covers and incidentally giving him a great view of the way the lace ran out and turned to transparent gauze just above the delicious flare of her buttocks.
Now, that was definitely deliberate.
“Rachel.” He gritted his teeth.
She straightened and turned. Her hip grazed the throbbing ridge that was fast rearranging the front of his jeans. One tiny little shoestring strap slipped off her shoulder, leaving a ridiculously fragile piece of lace clinging to her breast Rachel's breasts were round and full from breast-feeding, and driving him crazy. He'd never thought about how attractive a woman could be through pregnancy and afterward, but he'd found his hunger for Rachel increasing by leaps and bounds with the new lushness of her body.
She placed one fingertip on his chest and worked a button loose. “Kate and I had a check-up today. The doctor said that if I feel ready we can...you know...”
His hands assumed a life of their own, coming up to hold her arms. “We can make love?”
She smiled.
Cullen drew in a harsh breath, swung her up into his arms, strode into their bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. He stripped his clothes off with rapid, jerky movements, then came down beside her. And stopped Rachel was softer, even more deliciously feminine, than she'd been before The differences enchanted him, but he'd deliberately kept from touching her, exploring the changes to her body, because he just couldn't trust himself that close to her. And Rachel would have invited him into her body whether she was ready or not. “Are you sure?” he asked in a voice that was little more than a whispery rumble
Her hands found him, and his heart almost stopped. “I was sure months ago”
“I can't wait,” he rasped.
“I don't want you to.
Cullen,”
she breathed, gripping his shoulders as he pushed the filmy nightgown up to her waist and mounted her with exquisite care. “I need you Love me Really love me”
He moved into her with a smooth, careful stroke, and the relief of feeling her moist internal clasp shuddered through him Unconsciously he'd been waiting for this, the chance to claim her physically as his own. He was acutely aware of the need to seal the bond of their love in the most primal way there was, to start the process of overlaying the grim events of the recent past with memories that were sweeter, hotter, and burned more brightly, than the darkness and despair they'd both faced.
The past few weeks had been a time of intense adjustment, but the shattering intimacy of sharing a bed, a bathroom and a baby had been the most deeply satisfying experience of Cullen's life. He'd brought the same focus and determination to the process of cementing their relationship that he'd brought to avoiding it in the first place He wanted to wrap Rachel in satin and silk, cuddle and cosset her, chase the last sombre remnant of uncertainty from her eyes If he had to spend the rest of his life reassuring her that he would never leave, then he would, willingly. “I need you,” he said deeply “I love you. Always.”
Cupping her face, he moved his hips that final last increment, burying himself hilt-deep inside her. The tender, exquisite heat of her body welcomed him, and her eyes glowed with a soft radiance that sank into his very soul. In that moment he gained the certainty
he
needed. She was his, just as he belonged to her.
Rachel's fingers bit delicately into his shoulders, then twined in his hair, tugging. With a shattered groan he gave in to her unspoken demand and joined his mouth to hers. Warmth and sweetness exploded through him, healing old wounds and even older fears. He wasn't alone; he would never be alone again. And neither would Rachel. It didn't matter what difficulties they faced, where they lived.
As long as they had each other, they were home
Epilogue
 
T
he next morning, as they were eating a late breakfast, a car drove up. Rachel would have recognised Mrs. Reese's ancient Rover anywhere.
“Want me to get the door?” Cullen asked, coming up behind her and nuzzling her hair aside to kiss her nape.
Rachel raised one brow at Cullen's Sunday-morning-sleepy eyes and unshaven jaw, his naked chest and tight, faded jeans. The baby, naked except for her bulky diaper, was plastered sound asleep over one brawny shoulder. “You're hardly dressed for visitors.”
His mouth curled in a slow, sinful smile. “As soon as I get this little sweetheart in her bassinet, I wasn't planning on being dressed at all.”
A crisp knock sounded. Cullen's smile turned into a lazy grin as he ambled past Rachel on his way to get the door.
 
When the door swung open, the last thing Isobel Reese expected to see was Cullen Logan, more man than was decent and looking like the devil incarnate with that sweet, innocent angel of a baby propped over one of those oversize shoulders of his. Isobel jerked her chin up a notch Not that it was likely to make any kind of difference. From where she was standing, the man was as big as a mountain. “I hear you're giving up the army and you're going to stay in Riverbend and try your hand at farming?”
His eyes narrowed at her question “That's right.”
Isobel sniffed. “Well, it's about time We came to see the baby,” she announced, noticing the wicked glint in Cullen's eye and trying not to let her old eyes dwell overlong on all that prime muscle on display. Despite the flash of a wedding band on his finger, he still looked more wild than tamed. Lord, but that little Sinclair girl had netted herself a live one here. “Eleanor,” she commanded, elbowing her daughter in the ribs.
No response.
She expelled an irritable breath and turned to see Eleanor staring at Cullen Logan with her eyes wide and her chin near dragging on the ground. With a sigh, she detached the parcel from Eleanor's limp hand and shoved it at Cullen's washboard flat stomach. “For the baby.”
His eyebrows shot up in a way that made her feel faintly ashamed she hadn't called in sooner, but she ruthlessly pushed that emotion aside. She was here now, wasn't she?
He was silent for a beat, then asked, “Would you like to hold her?”
Isobel's eyes flew wide, but she shook her head with regret. “She's sleeping. I wouldn't want to disturb her.”
“I was just going to put Katie in her bassinet. Would you like to come in and visit a while?”
A blush warmed her cheeks at his smile, the velvety rasp of his voice. And those strange, light eyes. Good lord, but the man was too sexy for words. Reminded Isobel of her Harold. Her throat tightened as it always did when she thought of her husband. It hardly seemed like twenty years since he'd died. Now
there
was a man who knew how to make a woman feel like a woman! “Maybe another time, when that little girl's likely to be awake,” she said gruffly. “We'll be late for church if we stop any longer.”
Cullen smiled again, white teeth flashing wickedly against his tanned, stubbled jaw. “Thank you for the gift. And don't forget to stop by. Rachel enjoys company.”
On the way to the car, Isobel fanned herself. “Whew, it certainly is boiling today, isn't it?”
Eleanor settled into her seat with a dreamy look on her face. “That man is downright beautiful.”
Isobel set the car in gear, the tyres spitting gravel as her gammy leg pressed just a bit too hard on the gas pedal. The burst of speed certainly had nothing to do with her irritation at her daughter for living in such a dream world and not supplying her with a whole bunch of sweet babies like the one draped across Cullen Logan's shoulder. “You had your chance at him, girl,” she muttered, peering at Cullen's battered cattlestop and aiming for the centre, “and you messed it up big time. You can't expect to catch one of those wild ones if all you ever do is look with your mouth open!”
 
Cullen snagged Rachel's hand as he walked down the hallway. “Bed,” he said as he towed her upstairs to their room.
Instead of putting his little darling in her bassinet, he simply lay down on the sunny, tangled bed and let her sleep on his chest. She seemed to like that best of all and usually slept twice as long, which, since she was such a lively little critter at night, meant that he and Rachel could catch up on some sleep of their own.
“Cullen?”
He tore his wondering gaze from the tiny, snuffling scrap of baby splayed all over him, her diapered rump stuck up in the air. Rachel settled in next to him, snuggling into the curve of his arm. Right where she belonged. “Hmm?” he rumbled lazily, running his fingers up Rachel's arm, then letting them sift through her gorgeous, silky hair
She smiled, putting the sunlight in the shade. “Did you see what the Reeses brought?” She unraveled a large T-shirt and held it up. Another tiny matching T-shirt fell out
“The old devil,” Cullen said, chuckling.
The T-shirts both read, Made in Riverbend and Proud of It
 
 
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5870-9
 
CULLEN'S BRIDE
 
Copyright © 1999 by Fiona Walker
 
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 editonal 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 license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries

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