STARTING OVER (21 page)

"I wish I could have nursed her longer. But she was starting to need supplemental bottles, anyway. My doctor said that all the trauma I had gone through probably affected my milk supply."

"Well, I'm sorry if you gave that up to be here with me." A blush of color stained the top of his cheekbones as he admitted, "I watched you feed her once, and it was a very special moment. You looked so beautiful...." He paused, his eyes softening as he added, "I think that was when I knew what I was feeling for you was different than what I had felt for every other woman I have ever known. I began to fantasize that you were my wife and Shanna was my child."

A warm, happy feeling swept over Kate. She had had a few fantasies of her own about Rusty, not all of which centered around fatherhood. But she kept the subject neutral as she remarked, "After all your statements about children, I was afraid you wouldn't like her."

"Not like her!" he exclaimed with unmistakable sincerity. "She's a terrific kid. You know, I think she actually recognizes me."

"Of course she does. I've seen her turn her head and look in your direction when she hears your voice. And there's not many people she responds to like that."

There was a hint of paternal pride in his voice as he continued. "She's got a smile that's going to knock all the guys for a loop when she gets older. Someone's going to have to make sure her dates know they'd better not try anything funny with her."

The emphasis he put on the word "someone" made Kate believe that Rusty was serious about including her and her daughter in his plans. She considered how devastated she had felt when she thought something might have happened to him during that last dangerous flight, and Kate admitted that she would be open to sharing the parenting chores of raising her child with him. He was kind and fair, and Kate suspected he would make a wonderful father.

While Cesar marched closer and closer, Kate and Rusty tried to keep their minds off the storm. The game kept them busy for a couple of hours, then they watched bits and pieces of an old movie, most of which was preempted by the National Weather Service bulletins. At some point, Rusty had moved around the coffee table until he and Kate were cuddled together, leaning their backs against the couch.

In spite of their closeness, the unrelenting noise of the wind and the rain as it assaulted the house kept them both on edge. It wasn't a negative feeling, but one that made Kate feel vibrantly and wonderfully alive. And it had been a long time since she was glad she was alive.

All of her senses were heightened as she listened to the sounds and felt the heartbeat of the hurricane pounding its way inland. Even through the closed windows, the fresh smell of rain and crushed leaves and flowers filled her nostrils.

And now, more than ever, she was aware of the man beside her. He was the one who had brought her back to life. The joy and excitement she was feeling had everything to do with him . . . as well as the rebirth of her sexual desire. His barely restrained kisses and his cautious yet sensual caresses reminded her that she was a woman.

She knew she couldn't make love yet, but with each second that passed in
Rusty's arms and each time he looked into her eyes with a very personalized intensity as if she were the only person in the world he cared about, the warm weight of desire coiled tighter and tighter. And the fact that even though he didn't try to hide the hard evidence that he wanted her, he never pushed the issue, and that made him all the more appealing.

The sight of his nearly nude body as he climbed out of the pool often filled her dreams, both the waking and the sleeping ones. In a wish that was very uncharacteristic of Kate's refined, ladylike upbringing, she wanted to feel the delightful friction of that body against hers and the heat of his masculinity inside her. Kate couldn't remember ever having such a wicked wish, even when she was a virginal teenager with a vivid imagination. She had always enjoyed sex with Doug, but it had never been something she fantasized about. Now, sitting next to Rusty, it was all she could think about.

"Rusty," she said, letting her hand slide over the flat ridges of his stomach. Beneath her gentle fingers, she could feel his muscles flinch as his breath caught in surprise. "How do men handle going for long periods of time without sex?"

His eyes widened at her question. "What . . . what do you mean?"

"I mean, I want you to make love to me, but I know we can't." She could feel her cheeks burning, but she boldly pushed on. "Maybe it's because the pregnancy rattled my hormones, or maybe it's because you and I have spent so much time together, but every tiny thing you do makes me all restless and—" she paused, searching for an accurate yet nongraphic description "—anxious." It didn't really begin to express the depth of her longing for him.

"Could it possibly be that you're beginning to fall in love with me . . . just a little?"

Love. That wouldn't explain the erratic beat of her heart when he smiled at her or the tingles shooting through her when he touched her. Those feelings could just as easily be blamed on sexuality. But the security she felt when he held her hand or the affection she saw in his eyes when she caught him watching her or the apprehension that pulsed through her every minute he was in the air could very easily be the first signs of love. And the thought was not as frightening or unwelcome as it had been a month ago.

She lifted her gaze to his face. His hair had dried in a boyish tumble of reddish-brown locks falling across his forehead. His eyes were as clear and blue as a hot summer sky. A shadow of day-old beard roughened his strong, square jaws and highlighted the cleft in his chin. He was handsome and charming, but she had known that from the first moment he walked in her office door. That he was also sweet, intelligent, amusing, protective of both her and Shanna and trustworthy made him a treasure more valuable than the sunken galleons lying on the bottom of the sea.

"Yes, I believe it just might be love," she admitted as her fingers unfastened the buttons of his shirt and her hand slid inside to caress his heated flesh. "So what are we going to do about it?"

"Long, cold showers," he said as his lips stretched into a slow, sexy smile.

"What?" Now it was her turn to be caught off guard.

"You asked how men handle going for a long time without sex. That's what I've been doing." He let his hand trail upward along her thigh. "And that's what you and I could do. Or," he added, leaning over to let his mouth move down her neck, his teeth nibbling soft little love bites as he spoke, "we could be creative. I'm sure there are all sorts of things we could do without actually—"

A sudden flash and crackle sent the house into darkness.

For a few seconds, neither Rusty nor Kate spoke. There had already been electricity heating the air around them, but this was static energy of a different kind.

"That was close," Rusty said.

Kate nodded,
then realized he couldn't see her. "Yes, it was," she answered aloud. "I wonder if it took out the whole neighborhood."

He stood up and pulled Kate to her feet. "We'll finish our conversation later," he whispered, capturing her lips in a toe-curling kiss that promised there was more to come. "Don't forget where we were."

They pulled aside one drape and peered out the window, noticing immediately that every house in both directions had lost its power. But the darkness was now lighted with the almost constant strikes of lightning that continued as the edge of the storm swirled around them. The jagged bolts were blinding in their brightness and frightening in their indiscrimination. Along with the thunder, the wail of fire sirens competed with the wind to make a frightening racket.

Huge trees whipped back and forth as if they were limber young saplings. But Kate could hear the groans and squeals of their thick old trunks protesting the unusual movement and threatening to break. Illuminated by the flashes of lightning, eerie shadows of the branches danced along the ground while the rain blew in horizontal sheets so heavy and solid that the drops were indistinguishable even when they crashed against the windowpanes.

Rusty lit a candle and turned on the battery-operated weather radio. At least a dozen tornadoes had been reported, pushed out of the violent clouds to stretch their deadly tails down to earth. Already dozens of people had lost their houses and were being moved to a Red Cross shelter in the high school gym.

Nervously, Rebel followed Rusty, never letting his master out of his sight. It was obvious that the thunder was hurting his ears, and he whimpered his distress.

"I know, fella," Rusty assured him, patting the dog's head sympathetically. "It's pretty bad out there. But the eye should cross over us soon, and we'll have a few minutes of peace and quiet."

"I'm beginning to wonder if maybe we shouldn't have at least driven a few miles inland and stayed in a hotel." Even though the air was hot and muggy, Kate crossed her arms across her chest to ward off the chill of fear that was beginning to grip her.

"I doubt if we could find an empty hotel room between here and Austin. Everyone probably had the same idea." He pulled her to him and held her closely until she stopped shivering. "We're going to be fine. This house is well built and the storm has got to be weakening as it gets this far from the water."

She had to admit that the winds seemed to be calmer and the lightning less intense. Even though that indicated the eye of the storm was about to arrive, Kate welcomed the thought of a few minutes of absolute calm. The rain would stop and the skies would be so clear she would be able to see the stars. But it would be a deceptive peace as the other half of the hurricane would hit as soon as the eye moved on.

"If that lightning took out a transformer, we probably won't have electricity for at least a day or two. If a tree fell across the power lines, it'll be even longer than that." Rusty picked up a flashlight. "I saw a propane lantern in the garage. I think I'll run out there and get it. I won't be gone but a second. Will you be all right?"

"Sure. I'll be fine. But," she added, hating the slight quiver in her voice, "hurry."

"I will," he promised solemnly, but tried to lighten her mood with a teasing, "Have a towel ready, and I'll let you help me get out of my wet clothes."

Kate tried to smile but only partially succeeded as Rebel followed Rusty out the back door. Even with the voice on the weather radio blandly reporting the storm's statistics, the room seemed suddenly much too quiet and lonely.

She was beginning to feel the effects of letting her milk dry up. Her full breasts were aching, and she felt feverish. Thinking that a washcloth dipped in cool water might help, she retrieved the other flashlight from the table and walked down the hall. Hundreds of times she had been in that bathroom when it was dark, especially when her pregnancy required several visits to it each night. But tonight everything looked spooky and distorted, so Kate didn't dawdle.

Hoping Rusty had returned, she opened the door and looked down the hall toward the living room. The candle's weak glow spilled out, dimly illuminating a narrow, section of the hall. Kate started to walk toward it when a shape suddenly appeared between her and the light.

Silhouetted against the candlelight, the thing was rounded at the top with its sides flowing down to the floor in a triangular shape.

Assuming it was Rusty, Kate raised the beam of her flashlight. But instead of long, blue-jean covered legs and a T-shirt stretched over a masculine chest, she saw a white object that seemed to have no distinct shape at all. Her hand shook as she lifted the flashlight higher until the thin stream of light focused on the body's face.

It was Doug. Pale and thin, his cheeks looked hollow and his eyes were sunken deep into his skull. Water glistened on his face as if he had just risen from the sea.

The flashlight clattered to the floor. Kate heard a scream and knew it was coming from her. But she felt detached from it, as if she was hearing it from a long distance away. Her knees gave way, and she felt herself sinking to the floor. Her last conscious thought was that Doug had come home.

Chapter Twelve

"Kate, Kate, what happened?"

A dense fog swirled around her, and it was a struggle to try to focus her thoughts on the voice in her ear. She felt a hand gently slapping her cheeks. She tried to turn her head to avoid it, but an unyielding wall kept her from moving away.

"Honey, are you okay? Katie?"

Her eyelids felt heavy. It took a supreme effort to force them open. The face hovering over her was blurry for a few seconds before her vision cleared.

"Rusty," she cried.
"Oh, Rusty. He's here."

A perplexed frown crossed his brow. "Who's here?"

Kate's heart was pounding in her chest. "Doug. I saw him standing in the hall."

For a long, tense moment, Rusty was silent. "You saw him?" he repeated finally.

"Yes."

Rusty glanced over his shoulder before saying gently, "There's no one else here."

"But there was. Except..." Kate hesitated as she began to accept what she was thinking.

"Except what?" he prompted.