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Authors: Heather Graham

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“Sam 'n' Cassie.”

Epilogue

S
am and Cassie Montford were remarried the last weekend in May of that year. Until they found a house they just
had
to have, they were going to live with Carol and James, who weren't too proud to beg them to stay. Nor too proud to pull out all the stops, either. Mariah needed them, they said.

They sold Cassie's house to Tory and Ben, who were delighted with all the space. And the decorating. Ben was already working at Montford, Inc., and James had started to groom him for the mayoralty campaign, expecting him to take over the mayor's seat from Junior Smith in the November elections. Ben thought he was going to finish college first; Sam didn't think so.

Ben would get his college degree—Sam had no doubt of that—but he'd be reaching his other goals a lot sooner than that. Sam knew how Shelter Valley worked, and Ben would figure it out soon enough.

With a little brown bag in his hand, Sam approached the suite he was going to be sharing with Cassie at Montford Mansion. It was his wedding night. And what a night it was going to be.

But there was something that had to be done first.

“Sam?” Cassie called from the open bathroom door. He heard the sound of water, telling him she was in the double-wide garden tub.

“Yeah?” he asked. He shouldn't be feeling relieved by the brief reprieve her bath was giving him. But he was. A little weak in the knees, he sat down on the side of the bed.

He was probably wrong. Putting himself through this for nothing. Would be putting
her
through it in a couple of minutes, too. But if there was one thing Sam did well, it was to learn from his mistakes.

“Can I ask you something?” she called out.

“Sure.” Dropping the bag on his dresser as he passed, Sam stood in the bathroom doorway. And almost talked himself out of the test he was planning. Cassie looked stunning, lounging back against the side of the tub, bubbles caressing her milky skin, her breasts and nipples provocatively revealed.

“Why did every episode end with
I am, I am, I am?

So far, Borough Bantam was still his and Cassie's secret, but she was nagging him to share it. She was sure everyone in Shelter Valley would be proud as hell. He figured, eventually, that she was going to win this one.

“I wondered that for a long time myself,” Sam admitted now, thinking about her question. “He was a worm, something most people think of as slimy and disgusting.”

“Which is how you saw yourself.”

“Maybe.”

She arched her brow at him.

“Okay, yes. But he also represented the never-changing values of Shelter Valley. It took me a while to figure all this out. Regardless of what happens in the world, we can always count on the people here to continue, to be who they are. Family and community are the things that matter to us. It's been that way for over a hundred years.

“It was how I reminded myself that Shelter Valley, and my place here—whatever that turned out to be—were waiting.”

Cassie smiled at him. “I thought you'd say you were trying to send me a message.”

Sam shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I think I was. I just didn't dare hope you'd ever get that message.”

Cassie's eyes brimmed with tears. “I got it, Sam. How could I not? It was from you.”

Sam turned, reaching for the bag on the other side of the doorway. If he didn't do this now, it wouldn't get done.

“Hey, mister.” She called him back. “You wanna join me?”

Taking a deep breath, Sam turned again. “I want you to get out, Cass,” he said. “At least for a minute.”

Frowning, probably at his tone of voice, Cassie sat up, holding a washcloth over her breasts. “What's wrong?” And then she saw the bag. “What's in there?”

Sam pulled out the box he'd bought earlier that day, when he'd gone into town to pick up Cassie's flowers for the simple ceremony they'd had in the living room at Montford Mansion.

“No,” Cassie said as soon as she saw the box.

“Yes.”

“Don't do this, Sam.” Her eyes were full of tears. “We're so lucky to have Mariah. And we can adopt others if we want to. But don't keep hoping. I can't bear to hope with you—”

Her voice broke, and she stood, reached for a towel, began drying herself.

“You haven't had a period in almost two months, Cassie.”

He'd asked again the day she'd come to his office, and she'd told him she hadn't had one yet but had assured him she would soon. They'd been making love ever since, and Sam knew for a fact that it hadn't happened yet.

“I've been irregular ever since Emily.” She said the words softly but firmly. She wanted no part of this.

But he wasn't giving up. “Please, Cass, just humor me here? It's not even that I'm hoping, because I'm not. I've got you, and that's enough to keep me happy for twenty lifetimes.” He turned her to face him, his eyes earnest as he looked into hers. “You had problems before because you didn't find out you were pregnant in time. Every day that your period isn't here, I'm more afraid of what might be happening, what could go wrong. Please, won't you take a couple of minutes to set my mind at ease?”

Cassie held his gaze for another couple of minutes, then grabbed the box from him. “Give me a little privacy, will you?” she grumbled.

His wife was not happy with him.

Sam left the room, but didn't close the door. He didn't want her feeling trapped in there, all alone.

As soon as he could tell she was finished, he went back in.

“How about we get back in that tub now?” he asked.

“Don't you want to wait for the results? It'll only be a minute.”

Sam shook his head. He'd check later, just to make sure she was right. And then the worry would be behind him.

Dropping her towel, Cassie climbed back into the tub, but she was distracted. Sam undressed and joined her. She didn't even seem to notice he was there.

She finally just got out. Dripping water all over the bathroom, she headed for the little vial with the stick. “Damn it, why did you have to do this?” she cried. “I was just fine until you—”

Her voice stopped, and the stick in her hand fell to the floor.

“What?” Sam asked, flooding the floor as he leaped out of the tub.

Cassie looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, a joy that he'd never seen before in her luminous brown eyes. A spiritual joy, a connection, that he felt clear to the depths of his heart.

“I am,” she said.
“I am. I am.”

* * * * *

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ISBN-13: 9781460399910

Strangers in Paradise

Copyright © 2016 by Harlequin Books S.A.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

Strangers in Paradise
Copyright © 1988 by Heather Graham Pozzessere

Sheltered in His Arms
Copyright © 2001 by Tara Taylor Quinn

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

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