Chapter 22
As the sky deepened from golden orange to cast a lavender canopy over the turquoise waves, Zane walked with Jillian back to the blanket.
He lifted her right hand and kissed her bruised knuckles. “You hurt yourself punching out Richard.”
The breeze picked up the ends of her hair and played with them, the wheat-colored strands gilded in the soft light. She wrinkled her nose. “More than worth it. He so had it coming.”
“I appreciate your heartfelt defense.” He stroked her warm, silky hair, then dropped to his knees in front of her.
She bit her lip. “Zane?”
“Remember, I told you I always keep my promises?”
“Yes.”
“I made some promises to you.” Holding her hand, and her gaze, he began to recite from memory. “I, Zane take you, Jillian, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. To love and to cherish. Till death do we part.”
He pulled the black velvet box from his pocket, offered it to her.
She opened it with unsteady hands, gasped. “Oh … oh …! Is this …?”
“Yes, it’s one of your pearls. I saved it and had the jeweler set it into an engagement ring. Those tiny blue stones filling the wave-shaped settings around it are from a piece of sapphire sea glass Casey gave me. Because when I arrived here, I was brittle and broken … but you and Casey … your love tumbled me around. Polished off the sharp edges.”
Tears sparkling in her long blond lashes, she sank to her knees in front of him. “Oh, Zane. The fact that you survived your nightmare childhood with such a capacity for love and tenderness proves what a truly extraordinary man you are.”
He took her trembling left hand, gently slid the pearl ring onto her finger above her wedding band. He touched his lips to hers. “I love you, my precious wife. I will love you until I draw my last breath.”
“I love you too.” She murmured against his mouth. “With all that I am and all that I have.”
They kissed gently, sweetly. A meeting of sighs. Sealing their promises.
She slid her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Zane opened his heart, opened his mind and let her in.
Their kiss deepened. Breaths and souls mingled, merged. Her taste was his salvation.
Her breasts pressed into his chest. Her heartbeat galloped against his as he explored her mouth. Her silky tongue tangled with his, her honeyed taste igniting his need. Passion roared through him, thundering through his veins in sync with the lashing waves as her heartbeat raced against his.
The connection they shared soared freely between them, and he felt her passion rising to meet his own, the double hit of erotic sensation incredible.
He groaned into her mouth. Her hands fisted in his shirt and ripped, sending buttons flying.
Panting, he uttered a husky laugh as he shrugged off the ruined garment. “Hey, that was a new shirt.”
She kissed him again, her palms stroking enticingly across his bare chest. “I’ll buy you another. Or better yet, you can go shirtless the rest of our lives.” Her determined fingers found the button on his jeans and she released it from the buttonhole. The zipper on his fly rasped open. “Mmm. Maybe pantless too.” She pushed him back on the blanket, leaned over and kissed his belly, making his abs clench. “In fact, I might keep you naked and chained to the bed for my every pleasure.”
“Hey, I married a kinky woman.” Chuckling, he tugged her blouse over her head, cupped her breasts through the lacy blue bra. “How lucky can a guy get?”
“You’re gonna get a lot luckier in a few minutes, Mr. Big Bad.” Her naughty smile sucker-punched him with a wave of heat clear to his toes. “If you strip.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He yanked off his jeans and boxers.
Her hungry gaze swept over him, scorching his skin. “You always take charge. Will you lay back and let me explore this time?”
Because his fear was gone, because he trusted her with his body, heart, and soul, surrendering control didn’t faze him like it once would have. “You can have your wicked way with me. On one condition.” She eyed him warily, and he grinned. “If you get naked, too.”
“I think I can arrange that.”
He propped himself on his elbows to watch her. Warm sand shifted under the blanket beneath him, conforming to his body. The breeze rippled over his bare skin, cool feathers teasing his hot shaft and already moist head. The deep, powerful throb of the ocean vibrated through him as it pounded the shore several yards from their secluded nest.
With a sinful sparkle in her eyes that fired his simmering blood to a full boil, Jillian stood, straddling his legs. Holding his gaze, she reached behind her, the position thrusting her breasts out as she grasped the fastening on her bra. Her cheeks flushed with desire, her nipples beaded under the sheer lace.
He inhaled sharply. “Ah, sweetheart. You are incredible.”
She released the fastening. But instead of taking off the bra, she held it to her breasts with one hand, while slowly lowering the straps with the other, torturing him with peek-a-boo glimpses of her luscious curves.
Finally, when his breath sawed fast and ragged, she let the bra drop. Her alabaster skin gleamed pearlescent in the waning light, pale breasts a striking contrast to the dusky pink nipples. He was dying to take them into his mouth, to lick and suck until she arched against him. Until she cried out her pleasure.
But he held himself ruthlessly in check as her fingers toyed with the drawstring at her waist. Agonizingly slowly, she untied the drawstring, then stroked her hand up and down the strings in a silent suggestion that made his mouth go dry. When she slid her palm enticingly down her torso, his erection jumped.
Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, staring at him wonderingly.
He managed a grin. “Yeah ... you don’t even have to touch me to turn me on.”
Her answering grin warmed him with delight. As she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her pants and shimmied out of them inch by inch, the erotic sway of her hips nearly broke his self-control, and he clenched his fists.
She lingered over removing her blue lace thong, teasing him until he groaned and threw his pride to the wind. “Please, Jillian. Show a guy some mercy.”
“I love it when you beg.” Chuckling, she lowered her panties. Finally, blessedly naked and beautiful beyond compare, she straddled his waist.
Awash in spiraling sensation, he let her explore him with gentle caresses, eager kisses. Her exclamations of surprised happiness thrilled him to the core. She quickly picked up on his responses, and used her newfound knowledge to torment him with her hands and lips in the best possible way.
She moved lower, and without warning, her hot, silky mouth closed over him. Sweet, burning pleasure surged through him and his hips bucked. He fisted his hands in the blanket, clinging to control by a fragile thread. “Sweetheart,” he gasped. “That feels so good.”
She cupped him beneath, her hand warm and gentle, as her tongue swirled him to the edge. No woman had ever touched his heart the way Jillian did. No woman had ever cherished him the way Jillian had. No woman had ever worshipped his body the way Jillian was.
His emotions were stripped bare with her, vulnerable to her. Shared completely with her. Because of that, he was more aroused than he’d ever been in his life.
The thread of control snapped. Before she had time to protest, he’d flipped her beneath him, his mouth devouring hers.
A breathless groan escaped her as he moved lower and captured her nipple. He flicked the tip with his tongue before sucking hard.
His turn to worship her. He licked and sucked and nibbled, her neck, breasts, arms. The palms of her hands. Her fingers. He branded her skin with his kisses and she writhed beneath him.
“Jillian,” he whispered in her ear, his voice husky with desire. “I need to taste you.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, yes.”
He kissed his way down her damp, fragrant skin and settled between her thighs. Loved her slowly, thoroughly, keeping her taut and shaking, right on the brink.
“I … can’t ... take anymore,” she panted. Her eyes were closed, her head thrashing from side to side, every muscle in her body straining.
He moved over her. “Look at me, Jillian.”
Violet eyes met his, clung.
He clasped her hands palm-to-palm with his, linking his fingers with hers. Holding her gaze, he slowly slid inside her welcome heat. Her inner muscles clenched around him. “This,” he growled against her mouth. “This is where I belong.”
“Zane!” Her eyes darkened, she gasped, and then she instantly shuddered into a breathless, body-shaking climax.
Heart swelling with wild, primitive joy, he thrust rapidly as her body trembled and bucked. He drew out her pleasure, exhilarated at watching her come apart for him.
When she relaxed, he slowed to a slow, easy glide. She looked up at him, the amethyst pools wide with shock, her pupils dilated. “Oh. God .” Panting, she sucked in a deep, quivery breath. “When ... when my brains unscramble ... I’ll tell you how phenomenal ... you are.”
He chuckled hoarsely. “Tell me later, honey. We’re just getting started.” He moved inside her, rotating his hips. Watched her eyes glaze over.
She gulped. “Have mercy.”
He grinned at her. “I love it when you beg.” He suckled her earlobe, gently bit her neck, reveling in her inner clutch of response.
Holding her gaze, showering her with kisses, he thrust slow and deep, taking her up again. Stroke by stroke, the sweet torment built until they were both rigid with tension.
He watched the play of emotions across her face, loving her more with each passing second. They were joined in the most intimate way possible. Body to body, heart to heart, soul to soul. He could feel her love rushing back at him, filling him. The beginnings of his climax shivered through him. He fought it, not wanting to go over yet, not wanting their bond to end. “Jillian,” he groaned. “ You. You’re my miracle.”
His words pushed her over again, and then he let himself fall. Wrapping his arms around her he plunged fast and hard, as bright, searing rapture exploded inside him.
“Zane!” Her hoarse cry rang in his ear as she arched against him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body quaking uncontrollably.
Savage possessiveness clutched his chest. His woman. His wife.
He emptied himself into her, lost in shared ecstasy, awed and overwhelmed by the impact of their connection.
Sometime later, Zane floated to awareness. He forced his eyes open, not sure how much time had passed. He thought he might have actually lost consciousness there at the end.
He was still buried deeply inside Jillian. She lay limp and unmoving beneath him. Her eyes were closed, her breaths deep and regular. He raised his weight off her with weak, trembling arms.
“Jillian? Sweetheart, you okay?”
Long blond lashes drifted up. She stared at him with a bewildered expression, eyes dazed. “Wha ... what?” she slurred.
“Are you all right?” he enunciated slowly and clearly.
“I thi … think so. Can’t feel the lower half of my body,” she mumbled. “Gone missing.”
He laughed as he gently withdrew from her, not so sure about the state of his own body. His arms and legs didn’t seem to want to work either. “I hope not.”
“Me too. ‘Comes’ in kind of handy.” She smiled woozily. “Ha. Ha.”
He laughed again. “Jillian Wolfe, you are a bad girl.”
“Yes, and aren’t you glad?”
He kissed her damp forehead. “Yeah, I am.”
He pulled her into his embrace and they dozed, the ocean humming soothingly at their feet. He woke before she did and watched her sleep, fierce protectiveness gripping his heart. For the rest of his life, he would love and cherish her. Wonder and happiness expanded inside him. This remarkable woman was his.
Forever.
Finally, she stretched, arching her back like a lazy cat. She opened her eyes. The velvety depths were sleepy and sated. He loved knowing he’d made her look that way. He gave her his most wicked wolf grin. “What would you say to a three-week honeymoon in Hawaii when the Center shuts down for the final phase of remodeling over Christmas Break? We can bring your Pop, Loucinda and Casey, so we don’t have to leave him, but we’ll be able to sneak off alone. I know it’s a bit unconventional, but—”
“Yes! Let’s do it!” She laughed. “Nothing about our marriage has been conventional, so why start now?”
“Do you want another wedding? A big fancy blowout, this time? Because if you do, then I’m game for that, too.”
“I used to think that’s what I wanted, but … no. I have everything I need. Everything I want.”
“Not quite everything. I’m going to try to have my vasectomy reversed.”
“Oh, Zane!” she breathed. “That is so incredibly generous and wonderful. But it’s not necessary. I’ve learned from Casey that a child doesn’t have to be born of my body to love them as my own. There are lots of children who need homes. We can adopt as many as we can handle.”
In her, he’d found his own heart. In her, he’d discovered his capacity for love, for passion. For joy. He kissed her, pouring out his love and all his promises for tomorrow. “Yeah. Why not?” He gave her a considering look. “Uh … how many do you think that is?”
She traced a heart on his chest with her fingertip, making his heart beneath stumble. “Let’s start with one. How you think Casey will react to having a baby brother or sister?”
He kissed her again, a shard of apprehension marring his contentment. They’d agreed in private with the counselor to wait and let Casey settle from recent events before telling him Zane was his father. Casey liked having Zane for a friend, but how would he feel about him as a dad?
Would Zane be able to live up to the child’s expectations of a hero who soared in the clouds, rescuing people and saving lives? Would Casey be disappointed or upset?
Zane took a fortifying breath. “Speaking of our son … we should probably be getting back to the house.”
“Yes. But, Zane? Before we do—” Her irises sparked with the impish twinkle he recognized well. “Do you suppose we could get a jump-start on that honeymoon?”
An amazing, breathless, very satisfying hour later, Zane and Jillian walked into Casey’s room, where he and Dean were snuggled on the bed, coloring.
Dean’s shrewd gaze lingered on Zane’s tousled hair and torn shirt. Then moved to scrutinize Jillian’s flushed skin, rumpled clothes and rosy, kiss-swollen lips. Any moron with half a brain could see they’d been going at it hot and heavy for the last three hours. And Dean Ramsay was anything but stupid.
Zane had every right to make love to his wife, but a spear of discomfort impaled him. No father probably appreciated a guy thoroughly mauling his daughter. Whether she’d enthusiastically participated in the mauling or not. And hoo baby , had she ever. In spite of his unease, Zane squelched a smile.
A mischievous grin creased Dean’s broad, tanned face. He stood and offered a very relieved Zane his hand. “Welcome to the family, son.” He gave Zane a hearty handshake and a hard hug. After a kiss for Jillian and Casey, Dean departed, saying he was going to check in on Loucinda.
Jillian smiled as she sat beside Casey. “How are you doing, kiddo?”
Casey looked up from his picture of a green giraffe. “Good. But I sure could use one of them juice pops.” The little boy studied Zane, his wary perusal making Zane’s stomach jitter. What lurked behind those watchful, intelligent brown eyes? Was Casey angry at him over the accident? “Hi. Where ya been?”
“I ... ah ... had to do some stuff.” Zane’s palms grew damp and his heart pounded. He sat beside the little boy, he and Jillian enclosing the child in a protective circle. “I’m sorry you got hurt today.”
Casey stopped coloring. “Uncle Richard yelled at you. He said it was your fault.”
Zane’s breath jammed in his throat. “And what do you think?”
“He’s dumb. It wasn’t on purpose.” Casey shrugged philosophically. “Accidents happen, ya know.” He frowned. “I shouldn’t have looked over at that goofy Jen. Then I’d’ve seen the ball coming. Girls. ”
Casey didn’t blame him for the injury. For the second time in minutes, relief washed through him. He sagged against the headboard. The other men in Jillian’s life were making him run the emotional gauntlet tonight.
“Zane?” Casey picked worriedly at the wrapper on the green crayon. “I got to ask you a question. A real important question.”
“Shoot, pal.”
“Are you my daddy?”
Zane’s heart lurched to a stop for what seemed like a full minute. Then resumed beating wildly in his chest. He longed for Casey to know the truth. But more than anything, he didn’t want to do or say anything that would hurt his son.
Before he could figure out how to respond, Casey continued. “‘Cause when I was layin’ in the grass at the field, I heard Aunt Jelly say I was your son.” Casey held his gaze, eyes wide and somber. “Is that for reals?”
Zane gulped. Looked at Jillian for guidance. She offered him a serene, I-have-utter-faith-in-you nod. “Ah … yes,” he answered shakily. “I’m your dad.”
Casey stared down at the crayon, little nervous fingers shredding the wrapper. “Why didn’t you ever come to see me before? Didn’t you like me?”
Zane winged up an arrow prayer asking for the words he couldn’t seem to find. He lifted his son’s chin to meet his gaze. “I love you very much. Don’t ever doubt that.” How to explain so the child would understand, without bringing up Deb’s decision not to inform Zane? “You know how you used to be afraid of the ball? You were scared to play, because you didn’t know how to catch and you were afraid you’d get hurt?”
Casey nodded and Zane soldiered on. “Well. I didn’t know how to be a dad. I was worried I couldn’t be a good dad to you. You deserved the best dad in the world. I stayed away because I was scared I’d do something wrong and accidentally hurt you. It didn’t have anything to do with not liking you. It was because I was afraid.”
His son stared at him. Zane held his breath as cold terror and desperate hope churned inside him.
Casey nodded again, like a wise old man. “Ya know what ya need?”
“What?”
Casey grinned. “Lotsa practice. Remember what ya told me about playing ball? It’s okay to be scared. And you’re trying real hard, that’s the important thing. Someday, you won’t be scared anymore.”
Tears blurred Zane’s vision, and he blinked. His child had accepted him unconditionally. With wisdom and grace far beyond his years. Casey was already an amazing person at the tender age of five. He would grow up to be an extraordinary man. A bright balloon of happiness swelled inside Zane and floated upward, making him lightheaded. He swallowed the choking lump in his throat. “You’re extremely smart, you know that?”
“Do ya think?”
“Yeah, I think.” He ruffled Casey’s hair. Richard would be successful at taking away his son over Zane’s dead body. “How about if I practice by being your dad, for, say ... the rest of your life?”
The little boy burst into a sunny grin. “Epic!” He flung his arms around Zane. “Can I call you Daddy?”
Daddy. Zane’s heart overflowed. “You bet.” He and Jillian gave Casey simultaneous hugs, wrapping their child in a cocoon of love.
Casey squirmed. “Now that the mushy junk is over, can a guy get his juice pop?” he asked. “Please?”
Zane’s gaze met Jillian’s over their son’s head. They shared a heartbeat of shared, silent amusement. Then they both burst into laughter.
As the hug ended and Zane drew back, his cell phone rang. Caller ID said it was Mia. Custody news? Zane tensed. He flipped open the phone. “Yeah?”
“My, aren’t our boxers in a bunch?”
“Sorry. Stressful day.” Was it about to get worse?
“I understand. I have the judge’s decision.”
“Can you hang on a sec?” Pulse hammering, he pressed the hold key and stood. “Casey, I have to talk to someone. Why don’t you color me an extra special picture?”
“‘K, Daddy.” The little boy grinned widely as he chose a red crayon and vigorously scribbled.
Zane’s heart did another cartwheel in his chest. As long as he lived, he would never take that honored title for granted.
He glanced at Jillian. If it was bad news, he wanted time to collect himself, so he could be strong for her. “I need to take this in private.”
“Hurry back.” She kissed him, her loving gaze following him out the door.
Stomach churning, Zane jogged outside to the darkened yard. His fingers trembled as he released the hold. He took a deep breath. “Mia, no waffling, no softening the blow. Let me have it straight between the eyes.”
“Okay. Mrs. Stevens raved about you in her report. Said you were a natural. She said you’re intelligent, loving, considerate, responsible, and the kids respected you. And in spite of the chaos, the children were well-cared for and happy. She also said it was obvious you and Jillian loved one another and the marriage was stable.”
His legs went weak and he staggered. “Damned insightful woman.”
Mia giggled. “Incredibly so, since you were still buried under a mountain of denial at the time. She gave you and Jillian her highest recommendation. As opposed to Richard and Brooke, whom she did not like at all. Again showing keen insight. And Zane … the judge has awarded you and Jillian full, permanent custody.”
Closing his eyes, Zane dropped to his knees in the grass.
“There’s more.” Mia’s voice sounded very far away.
“M-more?”
“Tala has retained me to help her find a couple to adopt her baby girl when she’s born. I’m pretty sure if she thought you and Jillian would be interested, she’d be thrilled. She likes and respects you both. Would you be interested?”
He was having trouble breathing.
“Zane?”
“I …” A baby girl? “Uh— Oh. Oh my God.” Those parenting classes were gonna come in handy. “Yeah. Hell yeah! I’d say we’re interested.”
Mia laughed. “Wonderful.”
“Thank you, Mia.”
“You’re so welcome. I’m glad you’re finally happy, Zane. You deserve it.”
Zane disconnected the phone. He knelt there, listening to the ocean’s muted hum and crickets chirping in the bushes. Breathed in the sea’s tangy scent overlapped by the heady fragrance of roses. He looked up at the stars winking at him from the black velvet sky. “ And thank You .”
His gaze snagged on the lighted upstairs window, where he saw Jillian sitting on the bed beside Casey. He stood, staring up at the people he loved. The two of them were giggling about something, and Jillian ruffled Casey’s hair.
Once more, the poignant memory slammed into Zane of himself as a frightened, weary child trudging alone in the dark, longingly watching happy families out of reach behind lighted windows.
Then he turned his back on his past, forever.
Because tonight, it was different. Behind that window was his own personal miracle. His wife. His son.
His family.
He broke into a run, sprinting up the driveway and through the front door. Heart bursting with elation, he bounded upstairs. Toward the light. Toward the warmth.
Toward his future.
“Jillian, Casey,” he shouted. “I’m home! ”