Laws of Attraction (32 page)

Joy surged through him as he cradled her face in his hands. “I love you, too, Mia … with all I that have, and all I am. Marry me.”

Exhilaration exploded bright and hot inside Mia, bubbling out in delighted laughter. “We’re already married.”

“For real this time around. In the bluebell grove. Invite all our friends and family to come celebrate with us, and mean the vows we make to one another.”

For the second time that night, she leapt into his arms. “Yes! Yes, I will!”

Dallas whooped, spun her in giddy circles. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, darlin’.”

“Yeah, you must have ticked off Cupid in a big way.”

Laughing, he tumbled her to the rug. His mouth took hers in a long, intoxicating kiss as big, warm hands slid beneath her shirt, cupped her breasts.

“Mmm.” She broke the kiss, panting for air. “I love your hands on me.”
So strong. So gentle. Knowing exactly how to soothe and arouse and thrill
.

He nibbled on her bottom lip. “That’s good, because I’m never letting go of you.” Those wonderful hands teased her breasts while he brushed kisses on her eyelids and across her cheekbones. Each ear received shivery attention inside and out, then his lips trailed down her throat.

He slipped her nightshirt up and off. Craving skin-to-skin contact, she reached between them to unbutton his shirt placket, her fingers fumbling while his palms kneaded her breasts and soft lips sought every sensitive spot on her neck and throat.

“Dallas.” She tugged on the placket. “Need your shirt off.”

He pushed up, knelt straddling her. His mouth curling with sinful intent, his gaze caught hers. No longer haunted by shadows, blue irises glowed bright with passion, and love. “Yes, ma’am.”

He shrugged out of his shirt and she devoured the luscious view of his wide, bronzed chest. “Damn, you are gorgeous. Care to up the bet?”

His smile curved into a grin. “Right, you’re a gambling woman.” He fluidly gained his feet. Standing over her, he unhurriedly removed his boots and socks, then unbuttoned the seriously strained fly of his Levis, one tantalizing button at time. While his fingers worked, his smoky blue gaze stroked her from forehead to toes, then moved up again to linger on her breasts, her nipples pearling tighter beneath his regard. “You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, sweet thing.”

Mia grinned back at him, her breath hitching faster as he slid his jeans down long, corded thighs and sinewed calves, then off.

Clad only in tight black boxer briefs that revealed he was brutally aroused, he planted his hands on lean hips and nodded once at her sock monkey panties. “Check. You want more, you’re going to have to ante up.”

“Oh, I’m totally in for all or nothing, cowboy. You first.”

His deep chuckle fizzed in her bloodstream, headier than champagne. He tucked his thumbs beneath the waistband of his briefs and inched them down.

Mia’s mouth watered and her belly contracted, sending a flood of molten heat between her thighs.

Towering over her gloriously naked, huge and hard, he arched a brow. “Call, and raise.”

She gulped. “Wow, I’ll say.” Wanting to tease him in return, she deliberately shimmied out of her panties, warmed by the flare of cobalt fire.

When she held out her arms to him, he lowered himself on top of her and swept her into a deep kiss.

He took her up gradually, slowly … exquisitely slow. His sure hands and talented mouth worshiping, arousing every inch of her body. Long, languid pulls of liquid heat. Feathery caresses. Reverent touches. His tenderness awakened fierce desire, kindled vicious need as he drank her in, cherished her.

Her every muscle was taut and quivering, her lungs pumping, the sweet, heavy ache in her core nearly unbearable when he finally rose over her. His knee nudged her thighs farther apart, and she gladly opened to him.

Dallas held himself above his wife on arms shaking with desire, and memorized every precious detail of her face. Creamy skin flushed, moist pink lips parted and seeking air, those luminous whiskeyed eyes glazed with need.

For him
.

“Mia,” he whispered. Longing to be inside her so badly he hurt, he paused at the entrance to her body, fighting the urge to thrust in to the hilt.

Instead, he watched her face as he slowly pushed into her silken sheath. Reveling in her gasps and the way her eyes went wide and dark, her feminine muscles rippling to grip around him.

“
Ohhh
, Dallas!”

Mia’s husky moan nearly destroyed his tenuous control, and he clenched his jaw. He wanted them both to savor this moment with no deception, no doubt, no barriers between them.

Holding her gaze, he kissed her, lingering over her lush mouth while he began to thrust in smooth, measured strokes, pulling nearly all the way out before again plunging deep.

Her hips rose and fell to meet his rhythm. Heartbeats crashed, breaths mingled, enveloped in the erotic scent and feel of warm, damp skin sliding over warm, damp skin.

Her shaking ramping up, she clutched his shoulders, the desperate bite of her nails intensifying his desire.

“Mia,” he murmured against her mouth. “Go over for me. I want to see you go over for me.”

She arched beneath him. “
Yes
!”

His heart sailing with her, Dallas watched her lovely eyes go blind as she tumbled into the whirlpool and her slender body quaked and contracted around him.

He drew out her pleasure. Determinedly battling back his own impending climax, he stroked in a deliberate cadence meant to keep her riding the current without losing the high.

Soon he had her writhing with need again beneath him. “Please,
with me
. Dallas,” she panted, capturing his gaze. “Come with me this time.
Please
.”

Lightning sizzled down his spine and tingled over his skin, electrifying every nerve ending. He groaned. “Mia …
God
. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she whispered shakily. “So … much.”

Groaning her name like a prayer, Dallas let go and poured his very essence into his wife.

He held her gaze, and she his—united. Together, they flew, the universe exploding in dazzling starbursts. Consumed by brilliant fire that burned away all the hurt … melted the past … and then re-forged a joyous, unbreakable link to their future.

In her, he found absolution, found completion.

In her, he found himself.

* * *

Dallas wasn’t sure how much time passed before his senses started drifting back. With extreme effort, he levered himself up on jellied forearms. “Mia? I must be crushing you, sorry.”

“Mmmm.” Slumberous, satisfied whiskey eyes locked on his. Seeing his own love and desire reflected back at him sent a thrill coursing over him.

Smiling, she lifted a lax hand and stroked his face. “Don’t care. Stay.”

“I guarantee, you’re stuck with me from now on, honey. But let’s get off the floor and into bed where it’s more comfortable.”

“Okay. When I can move, in a minute. Or ninety.”

Chuckling hoarsely, he managed to gain his feet and lift her into his arms. Staggering into the bedroom, he settled her in bed, then climbed beneath the covers. He rolled on his side and she did the same, putting them face-to-face. Dallas wrapped an arm around her waist, snugged her soft curves against him. He pressed his lips to his wife’s damp forehead. “Mia, I quit.”

“Dallas, you’ve been awake well over thirty-plus hours. Twice is plenty for now. Go to sleep.”

“Hell, I’m not
that
tired.” He laughed. “I’ll rest … eventually. But what I meant is, I resigned my position with the DEA this morning.”

She started. “What?
Why
? Oh, no, don’t tell me you gave up your hard-won career because you’re afraid I can’t handle—”

“No. I know damned well you could handle it. But I don’t want you to have to.” When she started to object, he silenced her with a kiss. “And I don’t want to be away from you for months at a time, deep undercover and unable to see you, or even speak to you. I don’t want to live like that, and you’re my priority now.”

“All right.” She bit her lip. “So what are you planning to do with the rest of your life, cowboy?”

“Besides making love to you morning, noon and night?” His heart flip-flopped at her delighted grin, and his dick twitched and began to harden again, which widened Mia’s eyes with incredulity.

Another laugh escaped him. “I’ve built up a damned good security business. I’m not going to be guarding anyone else’s body anymore, either—except yours. But consulting, plus developing computer security programs, will keep me plenty busy and challenged.”

“Are you sure you’ll be happy?”

“As long as I have you by my side, I’ll have everything I ever need. In fact, there’s a small office building for sale near the bakery where I bought your birthday cupcakes. It’d work great if split in two, McQuade Security in half, Mia McQuade, Attorney at Law in the other.” He winked at her. “I think there might even be room for onsite daycare.”

Her sunny smile lit him up inside as she stroked his hair. “It sounds perfect!” A contented sigh whispered from her delicious lips. “I’ve lived my whole life trying not to need anyone, and now … now I need you, too. But instead of terrifying me, it makes me so happy. I don’t feel weak or dependent, but stronger … and finally whole.”

“Ah, Mia.” He captured her sweet mouth in a kiss, adoring the way she quivered at his touch.

Then he wrapped both arms around her, rolled her onto her back … and proceeded to prove to her he
wasn’t
that tired.

Promises made and promises kept … Mia was his, forever.

Afterward, he rested contentedly with her cuddled to his chest, feeling her heart beating against his as she drifted off to slumber in his embrace. No matter what the future held, life with his little darlin’ would always be interesting.

The past was done, and the future spread out before him in a glorious, shimmering arc.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, he tugged the ruby from his ear and reached over to place the earring in the nightstand drawer.

Someday, he and Mia would give it to their daughter.

He slid the drawer closed and rested his cheek on his wife’s silky hair. Then embraced in freedom and peace, for the first time in ten years Dallas slept through the entire night.

* * *

Read on for a preview of “Big Bad Wolfe,” Zane’s Story
.

FBI Special Agent Zane Wolfe edged farther out of the sunshine into the shadowed grove, listening for suspicious noises over the thrum of the nearby Pacific Ocean. And saw the ethereal-looking blonde tiptoe furtively down the driveway across the street.

Finally
.

Surveillance—hours of boredom for a five minute payoff.

Barefoot, and dressed in a coral tank top and faded denim cutoffs on shapely mile-long legs, his quarry moved as elegantly as if she were wearing an evening gown. Tousled, shoulder-length hair shone like Kansas wheat in the summer sun and honey-colored brows slanted into a frown. “Aragorn!” she warned in a low, melodic voice that reminded him of Grace Kelly in the old movies his mom had loved. His gut clenched. He’d always had a secret jones for cool, sophisticated Grace. “You get back in here
right
now, or I’m going to confiscate your nuts!”

Zane winced. So, maybe less Grace Kelly and more Kelly Osbourne.

He stayed hidden, watching her. Over the past five weeks, she’d left dozens of messages demanding he get in touch ASAP. He’d been planted deep undercover in a desert hellhole half a world away and hadn’t received them until last night. He’d phoned her from D.C., but she’d insisted he fly to Oregon to speak to her in person. Immediately.

The lady was
very
persuasive.

“How about a little cooperation, here, Aragorn? I have your favorite treat.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a package of salted peanuts. Waving it, she crouched beside a Pepto pink older model Mini Cooper convertible. The wrapper crackled enticingly in the mellow warmth of the late August afternoon. “Look, baby, peanuts.”

A huge, hairy white paw crept out and stealthily patted the asphalt.

The blonde’s husky chuckle did funky things to Zane’s blood pressure. “Oh no, you don’t. You know you have to go in the house first.”

The biggest cat Zane had ever seen slinked out from under the car.
A cat that eats peanuts? Man, now I’ve seen everything
.

“There’s my good boy,” the woman crooned.

The white behemoth stared at his mistress long enough to prove who was really in charge before he stuck his nose in the air and ambled across the lawn. Feathery tail twitching, he slinked inside the open screen door of the yellow two-story Cape Cod.

Heaving a relieved sigh, the woman followed the beast inside. Zane did
not
look at her luscious ass. Much. She closed the screen, but left the front door ajar.

Ingrained caution held Zane immobile as he scanned the perimeter for signs of an ambush. During the last two hours, skateboarding kids, an elderly man mowing a lawn four houses down, and the blonde were the only people he’d seen.

The new junior D.C. field office assistant had compiled a hasty dossier on the woman and tossed it to Zane on his way out to catch his flight. Jillian Kathleen Ramsey, age twenty-five, had grown up in the medium-sized coastal town of Cape Hope, Oregon. She was the assistant director at Hope Community Center, a facility that offered programs for disadvantaged, high-risk children from preschool through high school. Her mother had been deceased for over a decade, her father Dean, was a contractor. She had three older brothers, Cord, Jonas, and Drew, all Navy SEALS, all shipped out on active duty. The Ramsey family had squeaky clean records.

Zane frowned. What the hell did she want from him?

He doubted her summons was a set-up, but you couldn’t be too careful. Not if you wanted to stay alive. Working for the FBI, he’d met his share of whackos. He hadn’t survived a brutal childhood and a decade with the Bureau by being careless. He wasn’t about to start now.