The Hometown Hero Returns (12 page)

“What?” Marc asked gruffly from behind her. His voice sounded close, like he'd leaned close.

Mari twisted her head to try and see him. He groaned, and she realized why. When she hastily tried to lift her
head from between his thighs, he rested his hands on her shoulders and kept her in place.

“I can see The Family Center,” Mari said quietly.

“I know. I can, too.”

The sun topped the tall trees at the top of the dunes and sent its warming rays onto a pale blue, shimmering lake.

“Everyone comes to Harbor Town for the sunsets,” Mari murmured after a moment. “But the sunrises are just as beautiful.”

“I wanted you to see one.”

Mari glanced over at the small town perched on the shore. It looked perfect and fresh, cast in the golden light of dawn. She set down her coffee cup and turned in the seat. When Marc saw what she was doing, he steadied her while she rose to her knees in front of him. His small grin faded the instant before she pressed her mouth to his.

When she leaned back a moment later, and Marc stared down at her, she saw the sunrise reflecting in his blue eyes like glowing embers.

“I know what you wanted me to see,” she whispered.

“Do you?”

She nodded and pressed her lips fleetingly to his once again. “You wanted me to see things in a whole new light.” She inspected him somberly. “I'm trying, Marc.”

He opened his hand along her neck and stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb. “That's all I ask,” he said. He nodded toward the shore. When Mari turned, he put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her back against him. “Don't you think that'd be a perfect spot for a memorial?”

“A memorial?” Mari murmured, her cheek pressed against his chest.

“Yeah. A memorial for the survivors of substance abuse. A fountain, maybe, set there at the edge of the trees on the promontory of the dune?”

“It would be. It'd be like a sanctuary, a place to think or pray…”

A place to heal,
Mari added in her mind.

“I want to sponsor it,” he murmured.

She twisted around and gazed up at him. “You don't have to—”

“I know that,” he interrupted. “You don't
have
to do what you're doing, either. Not that this compares to what you're doing, not in the slightest. But it's something I'd like to do, if you'd let me.”

“Of course. It's a beautiful idea.” She put her arms around his waist and he embraced her in return.

For a few minutes, they bobbed on the blue lake and held each other fast, drinking in the rays of the new day. After a while, he leaned back slightly and put his hand beneath her chin. He tilted her face up and kissed her, chastely at first, but then, as their tastes mingled, with all the focused, fierce passion she associated exclusively with Marc.

“We'd better get going,” he said next to her lips a while later.

Looking into his gleaming eyes, she nodded. She took her own seat as Marc started up the boat again.

They returned to the same town she'd known and remembered, but thanks to Marc, Harbor Town looked a little different now in her eyes.

 

Due to her sleeplessness last night, Mari found herself drifting off when they were only fifteen minutes away from Chicago. When she awoke, they were driving down
Lake Shore Drive with the city to the left and the deep blue lake shimmering to the right of them. She was still blinking into wakefulness when Marc turned off onto Randolph Street. He'd only driven west a half block before he pulled into the parking garage of a high-rise.

“You ready?” Marc asked her a few seconds later, after he'd parked.

Mari nodded, suddenly feeling a little giddy with the excitement of their weekend getaway. He grabbed their bags and led her to an elevator. They stopped in the luxurious, residential lobby so that Marc could collect his mail.

Mari observed with fascination the way Marc transformed from a sun-tanned, easygoing vacationer to a confident, big-city state's attorney right before her eyes. It wasn't a huge change, granted, and he didn't behave any differently in the slightest. The nod of respect a few residents granted him as he picked up a package from his doorman and the wistful, backward glance one attractive, middle-aged woman cast his way allowed Mari to see this different shade to Marc's complex character.

He introduced her to his doorman, Oscar. Oscar treated Marc with equal parts friendliness and deference and seemed to know all sorts of intimate details about Marc's life.

“I've known Mari since I was eleven years old,” Marc admitted to Oscar as Mari and the doorman shook hands.

“Oh, the dirt you must have on him,” Oscar said with a wink.

Mari opened her mouth, but Marc hastily grabbed her hand and led her away. The sound of Oscar's laughter echoed behind them.

Marc's condo was large and featured a breathtaking lake view. It was decorated in a sparse, austere fashion
that she usually associated with a busy man living alone. In Marc's case, though, it didn't strike her as cold, but as utilitarian and elegant in its simplicity. The only contrast to the strong lines and gray-and-beige decor was a wildflower arrangement that sat on the teak dining room table. Mari walked over to it. The huge display looked brilliant with Lake Michigan as its backdrop.

She smiled as she touched a delicate bloom. “The purple iris and yellow daisy,” she murmured in amazement. “They're my favorite flowers. I always loved how the yellow was cheerful and the purple was so pensive. Like sun and shade,” she murmured, a smile on her lips.

She glanced down and saw a small card leaning against the vase with the words written on it in black ink,
Welcome Mari.

“How did you know they were my favorites?” she whispered to Marc, who stood watching her from the head of the table.

“I once saw flowers like that pressed on the inside of one of my mother's flower books,” he said. “On the wax covering them, she'd written, Mari's favorites, sun and shade.”

“Your mother saved them,” she said huskily after a moment, touching a soft bloom.

“Yes.”

Once the burn of tears had eased, she glanced at him. “Thank you, Marc.”

He shrugged. “My assistant, Adrian, deserves the credit for finding them. I don't know how that woman is able to pull off half the things she does.”

She smiled. She knew he was trying to play down the surge of emotion she'd experienced, and she loved him for that.

“Come on. I'll show you your room,” he said.

He grabbed her suitcase and showed her into what was obviously a guest bedroom, given the lack of personal items on the dresser and bedside tables. Despite its relative bareness, it was still a well-appointed room featuring a lake view and brilliant sunshine flooding through floor-to-ceiling windows. She caught Marc's eye as he turned from setting her suitcase on a low bench. He raised his brows when he saw her amazed, amused expression.

“You didn't actually expect that I was going to put you in my bedroom, did you?” he asked.

“Honestly? I did,” Mari said with a laugh as she began to unzip her suitcase.

“Does that mean you wouldn't have minded?”

Mari blinked at the sound of his low voice. He sounded much closer than he had been just a second ago. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him watching her, the hint of a grin on his mouth.

“I would have minded,” she told him with a stern look that was ruined by a smile. She turned back to unzipping her suitcase. “In fact, I appreciate you not pressing me about sharing a bedroom. This room is lovely, thank you.”

“I'll just let you unpack then,” he murmured.

Mari didn't look up until she sensed his tall figure exiting the doorway. If he only knew how much she wanted to surrender completely to the sensual promise in his hot, blue eyes.

H
e was sitting on the L-shaped couch in the living room, sorting through a small mountain of mail, when she joined him. Briefs and memos nearly bursting out of the supple leather, a case sat next to him on the cushions. He glanced up at her when she sat in the corner of the couch.

“You must have a million things to catch up on with work after being away for a week,” she observed.

He carelessly tossed a thick, white envelope onto the wood and glass coffee table.

“To hell with work.” He stood and transferred to the cushion next to Mari. He grabbed her hand. “I'm still on vacation.”

She laughed. “You needn't feel like you have to entertain me. You woke me up so early this morning, it's not even lunchtime, yet. Work for a while, if you need to. I can only imagine how demanding your job is.”

He squeezed her hand. “If you think I'm going to work when I've finally gotten you all to myself, you're nuts.”

She started to protest and noticed the way his eyes were fixed on her mouth. She inhaled and caught the hint of his spicy cologne. Heat slowly expanded in her lower belly, a sensation she seemed to always experience in Marc's presence. She covered the hand that held hers and began to idly stroke his index finger, liking how large and different he felt in comparison to her.

“What are we going to do then?” she asked idly.

When he didn't immediately respond, her gaze flew to meet his. He'd been studying her averted cheek and exposed neck like he'd been considering taking a bite out of her. She tried to ignore the thrill that went through her at the thought.

“How about if we take a walk, have lunch somewhere and come back for a swim. There's a nice pool on the roof deck,” he muttered.

Mari couldn't help but notice he seemed much more interested in her lips than the plan he proposed. “Okay.”

“Mari?”

“Yes?” she asked breathlessly.

“If you keep doing that to my finger, we're not going anywhere.”

Mari froze. She looked at their hands resting on the cushion. He'd covered her left hand, but she'd curled the fingers of her right hand around his index finger and had been stroking him slowly. It had taken Marc's heavy-lidded stare and spoken warning to make her realize how suggestive the caress must have seemed.

She released him and stood abruptly.

“I'll just go change then, for our walk.” She didn't wait for him to respond before she hurried out of the room.

Mari hadn't been to Chicago for any extended stays since she was a child. She'd come for performances with the orchestra on several occasions, of course, but was usually too tired from traveling, practices and the performance to see much of anything but the interior of Orchestra Hall and her hotel room. She'd forgotten what a lovely city it was sitting next to the topaz jewel of Lake Michigan. Its towering, glittering high-rises and big-city sophistication blended seamlessly with the Midwestern friendliness of its residents.

They walked north along the lakefront among bikers, skaters, joggers and beach-goers. Such a vast sampling of humanity rolled by Mari's view that she challenged herself to be objective in her assessment of the man who walked next to her in comparison. That jogger, for instance, had Marc's height and lean, muscular build, but he didn't move with the confident, easy grace of a born athlete like Marc did. A dark-haired man with an intense, handsome face held his girlfriend's hand as they walked in the other direction, but he didn't look down at his companion with a hot gaze that could make a woman feel like she was the only female on the planet.

“What?” Marc asked when he caught her trying to covertly study him.

“Nothing,” Mari said. She tried to hide her smile.

He started laughing at her mysteriousness, and she joined him.

She was being a fool, and she knew it. Wasn't that what they said love did to you?

They walked all the way to Lincoln Park on the lakefront and ate lunch at a little bistro in the park. Afterward, they wandered around the Lincoln Park Zoo without any serious intent and paused at whatever caught their eye. Marc bought her a lemonade, and Mari happily
sipped it while she watched from a below-water-level window as a playful polar bear swam back and forth.

“They say humans project all sorts of things onto animals, but I would swear that bear is flirting with you,” Marc mused.

Showing off his sidestroke in front of the viewing window, the frisky polar bear plunged in the other direction in the water. It did appear as if he was staring directly at Mari.

Mari glanced at Marc, and merriment swelled inside her. “Jealous?” she murmured.

He just muttered under his breath, grabbed her hand and led her away from the adorable, amorous bear.

On the way back to Marc's, they window-shopped in boutiques on Rush and Oak Street. When Mari saw a swim-and-dive shop, she asked Marc if they could go inside.

“Didn't you bring along the gold swimming suit?” Marc asked when he saw her holding up a sleek mail-lot.

“Yes,” Mari murmured distractedly. “But I'd feel like an idiot wearing that thing in public.”

She glanced up when he made a disgusted sound. “You're not going to buy a
one-piece,
are you?” he asked, sounding like she was considering the ultimate sellout.

She just gave him a condemning glance and kept browsing. She lost track of what he was doing, but he reappeared by her side a few minutes later.

“Here. How about this one. It's not quite so skimpy, but it's sexy as hell, like something a James Bond woman would wear,” he growled near her ear.

Mari glanced over and saw him dangling a white bikini on his index finger. An innocent smile crossed his face.

“It'll look great with your tan,” he coaxed.

“All right. You have good taste,” Mari conceded after a moment. The suit really was cute and had a good deal more coverage than Deidre's bikini. She reached for it, but Marc yanked it away.

“I'll get it for you. What?” he asked when she protested. “It's the only time a woman has ever told me I had good taste in clothing. I want to be able to brag about it every time I see you in it.”

A few minutes later they exited the air-conditioned boutique and stepped into the sweltering heat of the midday sun.

“Let's catch a cab home,” Marc suggested, already stepping to the curb in search of a taxi. They were back inside his pleasantly cool condominium within fifteen minutes.

“Do you want anything to drink before we go up to the pool?” Marc offered as he headed directly to the kitchen.

“No, thanks. I'm going to change.”

Marc had more than good taste when it came to swimsuits. He knew her coloring and figure to a T. The suit not only fit her perfectly, but it played up all her assets without seeming indecent. The halter-style bra had sufficient padding in it to make her feel covered but still managed to shape her breasts in a flattering manner, creating a sexy, but tasteful, décolletage. The bottoms were very abbreviated boy shorts that hugged her hips and rode low on her belly. Mari turned back and forth in front of the mirror in the guest bath, inspecting her stomach critically. Was it, indeed, swelling a fraction of an inch farther than its usual limit? She didn't
think
so, but maybe…

“Mari? You almost ready?” Marc called down the hallway.

Mari started, her hand perched just below the slight convexity of her belly. It all hit her in a rush again; that was
Marc Kavanaugh
calling for her to join him.

She was cradling the tiny beginnings of their baby in her palm.

“I'll be right out,” she shouted.

She scurried into her sundress and studied her face in the bathroom mirror. When Dr. Hardy had consulted with her, she'd mentioned that many women chose to wait to tell family members, friends and acquaintances about their pregnancies until after the eighth week. Miscarriages could occur, and if everyone already knew about the pregnancy, it made it all that much more difficult to have to break the news at every turn.

Most couples were cautious, even when they might be married and have loving, supportive families. She was willing to bet that the majority of the couples Dr. Hardy talked about were married and didn't live thousands of miles apart. Most of those couples didn't have the emotional baggage and charged history she and Marc shared.

Surely she wouldn't be doing too much harm by keeping quiet about the pregnancy for the time being.
Surely
she'd be doing Marc a huge favor by sparing him this news for a short while? He'd feel obligated to make major, life-altering changes, and what if those changes weren't even warranted, in the end?

Mari honestly couldn't decide if she was being selfish by harboring that thought, or if she was being caring toward Marc by shielding him for the moment. She could see the argument both ways.

Nothing had seemed certain to her since she'd seen Marc in the lobby of the Palmer House. It seemed as if the ground beneath her feet had become prone to
frequent earthquakes, and her typical confident stance had turned wary with every new step.

She entered the living room and saw Marc standing near the door wearing board shorts and a turquoise T-shirt. His briefcase was on his shoulder, and he had several towels tucked beneath his arm. As usual, his gaze struck her like a sensual caress.

Marc's desire was the one thing she could count on with the certainty of the rising sun. But was that enough to cushion them for what would undoubtedly be the rough ride of the future?

 

Marc was glad to see they were the only residents on the pool deck besides an older woman who was doing laps. Hopefully the lady wouldn't linger once she'd completed her exercise, and he'd have Mari all to himself. He set his briefcase on a table shaded by an umbrella and joined Mari by a couple of recliners in the full sun.

“It's beautiful up here,” she murmured, walking over to the view that featured Lake Michigan to the east and the skyscraper-packed shoreline to the north and south. She turned and smiled at him as he removed his T-shirt. “I can't believe we're nearly the only ones up here.”

Marc shrugged and sprawled on the deck chair. “It's like anything else. People tend to ignore luxuries after a while,” he murmured distractedly, most of his attention focused on Mari's fingers as she unbuttoned her sundress. “I've only been up here a couple times this summer myself.
Holy…
I'm a genius.”

He raised his sunglasses. Mari paused in the action of tossing her sundress on a chair. Marc was too busy checking her out in her new bikini to really take in the amused expression on her face. Maybe the new suit did have more coverage, but it did amazing things to Mari's figure.

“I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?” she said under her breath as she came down next to him on a recliner.

“Never,” he agreed. “A man has to take credit where credit is due, and I definitely deserve huge accolades for finding that suit.” He unglued his eyes from the swells of her breasts in the V of the top and lazily trailed his gaze down her belly and curving hips. Her smooth, golden skin looked downright edible next to the white fabric.

“Marc.”

He blinked and glanced up from her lap to her face. She was staring incredulously at him.

“What?”

“We're not alone,” she whispered.

“All I was doing was looking,” he said, flipping his sunglasses back into place.

“Somehow it didn't seem that innocent,” he heard Mari say under her breath.

He chuckled and stood. “Want to get in?” he asked.

“I'll wait. I think it's you who needs to cool off,” she said wryly as she dug around in a canvas bag and retrieved a magazine.

He laughed, tossed off his glasses and dove into the deep end of the pool. The water was refreshing, but nowhere near as cold as he needed it to be. After he'd swum some laps, he raised his head. A quick survey of the pool told him Mari and he were alone.

He swam to the side and poked his head up over the ledge. Mari was watching him over the top of a magazine with a smirk on her face. He crooked a finger at her in a come-here gesture. She shook her head, her gaze returning to the page. He continued to beckon her silently, however. She finally stood and sauntered toward him. Instead of sitting on the ledge and easing down into the water next to him, giving him the opportunity to touch
her honey-colored, smooth skin, she dove straight over his head into the water. He grinned as he watched her swim underwater toward the shallow end of the pool. He plunged after her. When she reached the end of the pool, he was there a split second before her. He leaned his back against the wall, his feet on the bottom of the pool and his legs bent, like he was sitting on an invisible chair. He grasped Mari's shoulders.

“What are you… How did you get there so fast?” she sputtered as her head came out of the water.

“I was inspired,” he told her as he pulled her over a few inches so that she was above him. As her buoyant body drifted down to touch bottom, she encountered him instead. She scooped up some water and splashed him in the face.

“Hey,” he murmured, not at all bothered. He wiped the water out of his face while Mari pushed her long, wet hair away from her eyes. There was laughter in her whiskey-colored eyes when they met his.

“I'll race you to the other end,” she challenged breathlessly.

“Uh-uh,” he said quietly as he arranged her so that she straddled his belly in the water, his weight bracing her. Grasping her upper arms, he brought her closer with his hands until her heaving breasts tickled his chest. It felt good—really good—to have Mari's naked skin sliding ever-so-subtly against his in the cool water. “I like it too much right here.”

“Do you?” she murmured, her mouth hovering just inches from his, her breath striking his lips in warm, fragrant puffs of air. He placed his hands on her hips, loving the way the curve of them fit into his palms.