Diana Palmer Men of the Hour 01 Night of Love

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not that frightened girl anymore. I'll stay with you, and I'll fight any other woman to the edge of death
to keep you!" she whispered fiercely, clinging to him.
He laughed softly. They were so much alike. "Yes, I feel the same way." He touched her forehead with
his lips, relaxing a little as he realized that she felt exactly as he did. "Ironic, isn't it? We were
desperately in love and afraid to believe that something so overwhelming could last. But it did. It has."
"Yes. I never thought I'd be enough for you," she whispered.
"Idiot. No one else would ever be enough."
She lifted her eves to his and smiled. "Are we safe, now?"
"Yes. Oh, yes."
She flattened her hand over his chest. "And you won't grind your teeth in the night thinking that I'm
plotting ways to run?"
He shook his head. "You're going to be a responsible businesswoman. How can you run from utility
bills and state taxes?"
She smiled at the jibe. "Good point."
He closed his eyes, drinking in her nearness, her warm softness. "I never dreamed of so much
happiness."
"Neither did I. I can hardly believe we're really married."
Her breath released in a soft sigh. "I really did love dancing, Steven. But dancing was only a poor
second in my life You came first even then.You always will."
He felt a surge of love for her that bordered on madness. He rolled her over onto her back and bent to
kiss her with aching tenderness.
"I'd die for you," he said unsteadily. His eyes blazed with what he felt, all of it in his eyes, his face. "I
hated the world because you wanted to be a ballerina more than you wanted me!"
"I lied," she whispered. "I never wanted anything more than I wanted you."
His eyes closed on a wave of emotion and she reached up, kissing him softly, comfortingly. Tears
filled her eyes, because she understood then for the first time his fear of losing her. It humbled her,
made her shake all over. She was frightened at the responsibility of being loved like that.
"I won't ever let you down again," she whispered."Not ever!
I won't leave you, not even if you throw me out. This is forever, Steven."
He believed her. He had to. If this wasn't love, it didn't exist. He gave in at last and put aside his fears.
"As if I could throw you out, when I finally know what you really feel." He kissed her again, hungrily,
and as the fires kindled in her eyes he began to smile wickedly. "Perhaps I'm dreaming again..."
She smiled under his hard mouth. "Do you think so? Let's see."
She pulled him down to her. Long, sweet minutes later, he was convinced. Although, as he told her
afterward, from his point of view, life was going to be the sweetest kind of dream for the rest of their
lives together; a sentiment that Meg wholeheartedly shared.
Meg opened her ballet school, and it became well-known and respected, drawing many young
prospective ballerinas. Her ankle healed; not enough to allow her to dance again, but well enough to
allow her to teach. She was happy with Steven and fulfilled in her work. She had it all, she marveled.
The performing ballet slippers of flawless pink satin and pink ribbons rested in an acrylic case on the
grand piano in the living room. But in due time, they came out again, to be fastened with the slender,
trembling hands of Steven and Meg's firstborn, who danced one day with the American Ballet
Company in New York as a prima ballerina.
*****
SECRET AGENT MAN
1
Lang Patton felt absolutely undressed without his credentials and the small automatic weapon he'd
grown used to carrying on assignment. It had been his own choice to leave the CIA and take a job with
a private security company in San Antonio. He was hoping that he wasn't going to regret it.
He walked into the San Antonio airport weary from the delayed Washington, D.C., flight with a
carryon bag and looked around for his brother Bob.
He was tall and big, dark-eyed and dark-haired, with a broad, sexy face. His brother was an older
version of him, but much slighter in build. Bob approached him with a grin, a young boy of six held
firmly by the hand.
"Hi," Bob greeted him. "I hope you just got here. I had to bring Mikey with me."
The towheaded boy grinned up at him. He had a front tooth missing. "Hi, Uncle Lang, been shooting
any bad guys?" he asked loudly, causing a security man who was talking to a woman at the
information counter to turn his head with a suspicious scowl.
"Not lately, Mikey," Lang replied. He shook his brother's hand and bent to lift Mikey up onto his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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