Chapter 11
Casey kept trying to focus on the familiarity of the countryside through which they were driving, but all she kept seeing was the look on Ryder’s face when he’d turned around at the airport and seen her.
It hadn’t been filled with concern, it had been torn by devastation.
To her, that meant only one thing. He cared for her as much as she had learned to care for him.
Oh God, please don’t let me be setting myself up for a fall, she thought.
“I’m going to let you out at the big house,” Ryder said. “You need to let your family know that you’re safe—just in case they’ve heard broadcasts about the crash.”
Casey couldn’t quit trembling. For some reason, her life had been spared and she didn’t understand why. Ryder’s presence was solid, unwavering; she felt a need to stay within the sound of his voice. “Where will you be?”
Just for a second he took his eyes off the road. “Right where I’ve been for the last three days. Waiting for you to come home.”
She looked out the window and started to cry. “Oh Ryder, why? All those people. They’ll never come home.”
He saw Micah’s face in his mind and as he did, suddenly realized that the pain of the last few months wasn’t as sharp as it had been.
Ever conscious of the woman in the seat beside him, he had to face the fact that if it hadn’t been for a tragedy, he and Casey would never have met.
He tried to imagine his life without her and couldn’t. Something inside him clicked.
“I don’t know, but I’m beginning to accept that everything that happens to us in life happens for a reason.”
Her voice was shaking. “What could possibly be the reason for so many deaths?”
His voice was gruff as he turned off the highway. “Damned if I know. Maybe it was just their time to go.”
Moments later, the gray slate roof of the main house appeared over the tops of the trees, and soon afterward, the house itself was visible.
“You’re home,” Ryder said.
Casey’s gaze moved from the mansion to the small, unobtrusive apartment over the garage. “Yes, so I am.”
* * *
It was the red blinking light on the answering machine that drew him into the apartment. He knew what it said, but he played it anyway, reliving his joy as he waited for the sound of Casey’s voice to fill the room.
“Ryder, it’s me, again. This day couldn’t get much worse. I missed my flight.”
He closed his eyes, listening to the rest of the message and feeling awed by the twist fate had taken on their behalf. When it was over he put her suitcase on her bed, then looked around. Some changes had taken place since he’d left to pick her up.
The apartment was clean. Bea had probably seen to that.
A fresh bouquet of flowers was on her bedside table, more than likely thanks to Eudora.
She was big on flowers. He walked out of the room and into the kitchen.
There was a note on the refrigerator door.
Thanks to Tilly, there was food inside, ready to be eaten.
He turned on the faucet and let the water run until it was cool, then filled a glass and drank it dry; filled it again, and did the same. When he put it down empty, his hand was shaking. He walked into his bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed.
The intense quiet assailed him and for the first time since Casey had grabbed his arm in the airport and turned the light back on in his world, he let himself think of the brief period of time when he’d thought she was dead.
Uppermost had been the overwhelming sense of pain and loss, but there’d also been regret.
Regret that their lives had been so screwed up when they met.
Regret that he’d never said aloud what he knew in his heart to be true.
A shuddering breath slid up and out of his throat. He’d been given a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste precious time again. Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside. He tensed. It was Casey. The front door opened and he heard her call out.
“Ryder?”
He stood. For him, there was no turning back.
“Oh, there you are! It was so quiet I didn’t think you were here.”
He paused in the doorway, staring at her and memorizing the way she looked and the way she moved.
Her long, black hair was pinned up off her neck and slightly tousled from travel.
Her eyes were wide and still a little shocked, her lips looked tender, almost bruised, as if she’d bitten them to keep from crying, which he supposed she had.
He watched as she absently brushed at a speck on her suit.
Red was a power color, she’d told him. He could definitely agree.
She held a power over him he couldn’t ignore.
When she stepped out of her shoes and bent down to pick them up, the hem of her skirt slid even higher up her legs, accentuating their length. His heart filled. That woman was his wife.
“Casey.”
She glanced up, her shoes still in her hand.
“I need to tell you something.”
That’s right! He’d told her the day she left that when she got back they needed to talk. Her heart skipped a beat as she waited for him to continue. Instead, he started toward her.
“Today, when I thought I’d lost you, do you know what I regretted most?”
She shook her head, her eyes widening as he cupped her cheek.
“That I hadn’t told you the truth about how I felt.
” His gaze bored into hers. “I know what I’m going to say wasn’t part of our bargain, but dammit, sometimes things change.
I am sick and tired of pretending I’m satisfied with being your husband in name only.
I love you, lady. I want to lie with you, make love with you.
I don’t want another night to pass without holding you in my arms. If you can’t handle this, then say so, because in about three seconds, it’ll be too late. ”
Casey’s eyes were full of tears as she dropped her shoes and put her arms around his neck. “Why waste three seconds when the answer is yes… a thousand times yes?”
Ryder reached behind her and locked the door, then her feet left the floor. “Your place or mine?”
“Anywhere, Ryder, as long as you’re there.”
He headed for his bedroom with her in his arms. When he put her down, his hands went straight to the buttons on her suit. His voice was shaking. “God give me strength,” he whispered, fumbling as he tried to push buttons through holes.
“Let me,” Casey said, and finished what he’d been trying to do.
She walked toward the sliding glass doors, pulling shut the drapes as she dropped the jacket of her suit on a nearby chair. On her way back to Ryder she stepped out of her skirt.
He wasn’t prepared for the woman beneath the suit; not the wisp of red bra, the matching bikini panties, the long, silk stockings or the black lace garter belt holding them up.
And this time, when he swept her off her feet, he wrapped her legs around his waist and sank down onto the bed with her still in his arms.
He nuzzled the curve of her neck, savoring the joy of being able to hold her, inhaling the faint but lingering scent of her perfume, testing the soft crush of her breasts against his chest, and knowing that the tight draw of his own muscles next to that wisp of red silk between her legs was becoming difficult to ignore.
He held her close, savoring the joy of knowing she was still alive.
“Today I rode a roller coaster into hell and came out with an angel in my arms. I don’t know why we were given a second chance, but I don’t intend to waste it.”
Her arms tightened around his neck as she rained brief, tiny kisses along the side of his cheek and his chin. He grabbed her face, gazing into her eyes and watching them fill with tears until he thought he could see all the way to her soul.
“I feel like I’m about to make love to a ghost. I can’t believe I’m holding you, feeling your breath on my cheek, your arms around my neck. I must be the luckiest man in the world.”
Casey’s breath snagged on a sob. “I’m the one who got lucky. The day I got lost in the flatlands and found you in Sonny’s Bar was the day my life began to change. You’ve stood with me. You’ve stood by me. I will never be able to repay you for what you’ve already done in my name.”
“Hell, darlin’, I don’t want your money. I want your love.”
“Then take it, Ryder. It’s yours.”
He rolled until she was lying beneath him in those bits of red-and-black lace. With an impatient snap, he undid the clasps on her garter belt and rolled down her stockings, silken inch at a time.
Longing to be one with this man was driving Casey to the brink of making a fool of herself. She struggled to help as he undid her bra. But when he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her bikini briefs and started pulling them down, she moaned and closed her eyes.
Ryder leaned down and kissed the valley between her breasts.
His breath was soft against her face as he moved to her lips. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she gasped, and tunneled her fingers through his hair. “Unless you hurry, I may never be okay again.”
After that, he came out of his clothes with no regard to order, and when he threaded his fingers through hers and stretched out beside her, he closed his eyes and said a last small prayer of thanksgiving that he’d been given this chance.
Then Ryder Justice made love to his wife.
* * *
Casey propped herself on one elbow, looking at Ryder as he slept.
She knew the shape of his, face, the nearly square, stubborn jaw.
Her gaze moved to his hands—broad and strong with long, supple fingers.
She shivered, remembering what they’d done to her body in the name of love.
Dear Lord, but he knew the buttons to push to make a strong woman weak with longing.
His chest rose and fell with each even breath that he drew, yet a short while ago, she’d felt the thunder of his pulse as he’d lain down upon her and driven himself into her, over and over, in mindless repetition.