I’m so sorry. Please tell me you forgive me,” he begged as he buried his face deep into my neck.“I forgive you, but we need to talk,” I said.“I know, and I’ll do anything to make things right. I love you, and I missed you so much.”I broke our embrace and placed my hands on his face. “I missed you too,” I said as I kissed him. “Come sit down and have some coffee and the hangover cocktail I just made.”“You know I hate that stuff, Isabella.”“I know you do, but it works and you have to be feeling pretty lousy right now.”“I am,” he said as he rubbed his head.I picked up the glass with the cocktail in it and sat down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around me as I brought the glass to his lips. “Drink.” I smiled.He looked at me, made a face, and took a sip as I tilted the glass. He took it from my hand and chugged it down as fast as he could, then placed the glass on the counter.“Where’s Julia?” he asked.“She’s at the house with Mason. He’s going to pack her stuff up and bring her
“I will, Daddy, don’t worry,” she responded as she kept looking at the table next to us.I knew those women were staring at my husband and, after all these years, I still had a problem with it. But I’d toned it down, and I didn’t embarrass Richard as much. Out of the clear blue, Julia looked at Richard.“Daddy, those women keep staring at you and that’s rude.”I almost choked on my salad as I started to laugh. Richard looked at me with wide eyes.“I know, Julia. Don’t worry about it. Just finish your dinner,” he said.“Mommy, why do they keep staring over here?”“They keep staring because they think your daddy is very handsome. Now, finish your dinner so we can go see Santa Claus.”Julia smiled as she ate her chicken. Collin was being a good boy and eating his dinner because he was excited to go to the toy store. As we finished eating, the waitress brought our bill and Richard paid. When we got out of the booth, I took Collin’s hand and Richard grabbed Julia’s. As we were leaving, I i
She was right. I would see her every day. I broke our embrace and looked at my beautiful wife. “Have I told you today how absolutely gorgeous you look?” I smiled.“You have, but I won’t complain if you want to tell me again.”I put my hands on her h*ps and leaned in closer as my lips brushed against her exposed neck. “You’re stunning and elegant, and I want to do very bad things with you,” I whispered.Isabella gasped as she tilted her head and allowed me better access. “As much as I want you to do bad things to me, we have to leave now; the limos are waiting for us.” I looked at my watch and saw that she was right. It was time to get our little bride to her groom.The wedding was taking place in the Conservatory Gardens in Central Park; the exact same spot where Isabella and I got married. No expense was spared for this wedding. It had become the event of the year. We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun was shining brightly. As we p
On her knees on the bathroom floor, Isabella Jones viewed parts of the toilet that were never meant to be seen at such short range. Her stomach rolled and heaved like a tiny canoe being swept down a raging river. The tile felt icy against her knees, yet beads of perspiration moistened her brow. Closing her eyes in an effort to hold back the waves of nausea, Hannah drew in several deep, even breaths. That seemed to help a little, but not enough."Oh, God," she prayed silently, "please, oh, please, don’t let me be pregnant." No sooner had the words crossed her lips when she lost what little breakfast she’d managed to down that morning.Her monthly period was late. Over two months late. But that could be attributed to the stress she’d been under these past several weeks. The stress and the grief. It had been nearly four months since Jerry’s death. She ached to the bottom of her soul for him, and would, she was convinced, until the end of her life. She’d loved Jerry for six years, had pla
Vendors strolled the street, selling their wares to children who danced in and out of the waiting crowd like court jesters.Isabella was amused by their antics when little managed to cheer her those days. She was so caught up in the activities going on around her that she wasn’t watching where she was walking. Before she realized what she was doing, she stumbled headlong into a solid male chest. For an instant she assumed she’d blundered into a brick wall. The pair of strong hands that caught her shoulders convinced her otherwise. His grip tightened to keep her from stumbling backward."I’m sorry," she mumbled, once she’d found her voice. He was a sailor. One tall and muscular sailor. As nonsensical as it seemed, he had the look of a pirate about him – bold and daring. His hair was as dark as his eyes. He wasn’t strikingly handsome; his features were too sharp, too craggy for that. Then his finely shaped mouth curved into a faint smile, flashing white, even teeth."I’m… sorry," she st
Kissing a stranger was completely out of character for Isabella . Everything had taken on an unreal quality. At least when she was in Richard’s arms she was feeling again. And it was so good to experience something other than pain, something more than the agony that stampeded her heart and soul.Richard’s slipped his hands over her hips and held on to her waist as if he weren’t sure what he wanted. His gaze pierced hers, and Hannah smiled shyly back. He plunged his fingers through her hair and stared down on her for several breath-stopping moments before he kissed her. Sighing, Isabella leaned toward him. Together they made warm, moist kisses, each one increasing in intensity. His tongue edged apart the seam of her lips and then traced the roundness of her mouth.When they reluctantly parted, neither spoke. Isabella could feel him assessing her, but what conclusions he drew, she could only speculate. She didn’t want him to ponder her boldness too much, because then she’d be forced int
Richard blamed himself still. He feared he’d frightened her so badly that she’d fled in horror. Had he hurt her? She’d been so tight and so small. It was all he could do not to slam his fist into the wall every time he thought about their brief encounter, which was damn near every minute of every day. What had happened to her since? Was she sick? Alone? Frightened? Pregnant?He’d been in control of their encounter until she’d kissed him. Now it was weeks later and he still reeled at the memory of the gentle, shy way in which she’d pressed her lips to his. He cursed how he could close his eyes and continue to taste her. How sweet she’d been. How warm and delicate. Her lips had molded to his, and her flavor reminded him of cotton candy. That alone was enough to torment him, but it wasn’t all. Her fragrance continued to obsess him. It wasn’t a commercial one he could name. The only way he could think to describe it was to imagine walking waist-deep in a field of wildflowers.The woman ha
She woke when her father made a sharp turn and eased to a stop in front of a guard house. He rolled down the window, and a blast of cold air alerted Isabella to the fact they’d arrived at their destination. She straightened and looked around. Although she’d never been on one before, she recognized immediately that they were entering a military compound. "Dad?" she quizzed. "Where are we?""Bangor," he announced a little too loudly. "We’re meeting Richard Jones."In Chaplain Stewart’s office Riley sat, ramrod straight, across the room from Isabella Brown and her stern-faced father. Richard gaze narrowed as he fired a look in her direction. Not once did she deign to glance his way. She sat, her back as rigid as his own, but although she held her head high, her gaze refused to meet his. Perhaps it was just as well.First thing the previous morning, Richard had been called before his commanding officer. When he arrived, he’d discovered Chaplain Stewart and Lieutenant Commander Steven Kyl
Well?" she asked, demanding a response from him."I don’t want to quarrel over this, Hannah." He was smart enough to recognize a loaded question when he heard one. Smart enough to extract himself as best he could, too. "All I’m saying is that I’d prefer it if you invested as much time in our relationship as you would in a job. There are only so many hours in a day. You can’t do everything, you know.""In other words you wouldn’t be willing to help with the cooking or the housework?"Richard was quickly losing his grip on his patience, which had always been in short supply. Isabella seemed to be looking for an excuse to pick a fight with him by tying him up in verbal knots. She had been from the moment he’d arrived home. Hell if he knew what he’d done that was so terrible now."I’d be willing to help with the cooking and housework." He fully expected his answer would take the starch out of her arguments. How willing he actually would be to help around the house was another question ent
Isabella ?" He spoke her name softly when he noticed the moist trail of tears that streaked her face. "Would it help any if I told you I was sorry?" He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but it was apparent he’d hurt her, and knowing that didn’t sit right.She stopped and looked up at him through narrowed, suspicious eyes."Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it," he tried once more."You don’t remember?" She sounded incredulous."No," he admitted, reaching for her hand. "Come back to the house and we’ll talk about it. All right?"She seemed to be trapped with indecision. He raised his hands to her face and gently rubbed the tears from her cheeks. Each one was an accusation against him. His heart constricted at how pale her features were, how fragile she looked. It demanded every ounce of control he possessed not to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness. He was a reckless bastard to inflict his drunkenness on so delicate a soul, and he silently vowed never to do it again."Com
Tell me," he said, walking toward her, fully intending to take her in his arms; a couple of kisses might reassure her even more. "You wouldn’t happen to be jealous now, would you?""Jealous?" She threw the word back in his face as though he’d issued the greatest insult of her life. "If you can honestly mistake integrity and principles for jealousy, then I truly wonder what kind of man I’ve married."With that she turned and walked into her bedroom and closed the door. Isabella had probably never slammed a door in her life, he realized.Air seeped between Richard’s clenched teeth. He’d done it again. Just when he was beginning to make headway with her, he got cocky and said something stupid. It was becoming a bad habit.He let a few moments pass, then decided to try once again. He knocked on her bedroom door, but didn’t wait for her to answer before turning the knob and walking in. A husband should be allowed certain rights. Isabella turned and glared at him accusingly."I didn’t mean
None of my business," she repeated calmly. Obviously she was traipsing across ground he had no intention of mapping. "I see.""It’s obvious you don’t. Damnation, woman, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.""I most certainly am not," she replied, doing her best to hold back the flash flood of anger that threatened to drown her. "If anyone is being unreasonable, it’s you. Apparently the subject is a touchy one and best dropped. I’m sorry I said anything.""So am I."It seemed that Richard wasn’t watching the road as well as he should have been, because a car shot past them and the driver hammered on the horn as he sped by. Her husband muttered something under his breath that Hannah pretended not to hear."Are there others?""Other what?" Richard shouted. His frustration with her was clearly getting the best of him."Women," Isabella explained serenely. "I should know about them, don’t you think? It might save us both a good deal of embarrassment.""Are you asking for a list of e
He came around and helped her out of the car and cupped his hand under her elbow as they walked up the flight of concrete steps to his apartment.Once they reached the top, Richard unlocked the door. Shoving it open, he turned to Isabella and without a word calmly lifted her into his arms.Taken by surprise, she let out a small cry of alarm. "Richard ," she pleaded, "put me down. I’m too heavy.""Let me assure you, Isabella Jones , you weigh next to nothing." With that he ceremoniously carried her over the threshold, gently depositing her in the leather recliner.Isabella smiled at him, a little breathlessly, although he’d been the one to do all the work. This man was full of surprises. All week she’d been convinced she was marrying a monster, but Richard had gone out of his way to prove otherwise. Perhaps this marriage had a chance to survive, after all.Richard turned on the television and reached for the evening paper and, after a few minutes, Isabella excused herself and began unpa
Glancing at her now, sitting by his side as they drove to his apartment in nearby Port Orchard, gave him further cause to wonder. She hadn’t said more than a handful of words since the ceremony. He hadn’t a clue what she was thinking, but he figured she was looking for some way to get out of this."It was very nice of Chaplain Stewart and Lieutenant Commander Kyle to arrange housing on the base for us, wasn’t it?" she asked softly."Very nice," he repeated. He wondered how many strings his CO had had to pull to come up with that. The news had come as a surprise to Richard , who’d lived in a small apartment complex for the past two years."When will we be moving?""Soon.""How soon?"Hell, first he couldn’t get her to talk, now he couldn’t shut her up. "Next weekend.""Good. Packing will give me something to do while you’re gone during the day. Once we’ve moved, I’ll look for a job.""I don’t want you doing any lifting, you hear?" She flinched at his harsh tones, and he regretted speak
I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.""Obviously," he retorted, trapped in his anger. "No one in their right mind would do this to themselves. The question is, what the hell are we going to do about it now?""Oh, don’t worry. It isn’t necessary for you to marry me. I don’t know what ever made Dad suggest that."She seemed so damn smug about it, and that riled him all the more."Apparently your father feels differently. He seems to think my marrying you would salvage your honor."She nodded. Her hair was tied at her nape, giving Richard a clear view of the delicate lines of her face. As pale as she was, she resembled a porcelain doll, fragile and easily breakable. She looked dangerously close to that point right then."My father is an old-fashioned man with traditional values. Marriage is what he would expect.""What do you expect?" His tone was less harsh, his concern for her outweighing his irritation.Isabella placed her hand on her smooth stomach as though she longed to protect
She woke when her father made a sharp turn and eased to a stop in front of a guard house. He rolled down the window, and a blast of cold air alerted Isabella to the fact they’d arrived at their destination. She straightened and looked around. Although she’d never been on one before, she recognized immediately that they were entering a military compound. "Dad?" she quizzed. "Where are we?""Bangor," he announced a little too loudly. "We’re meeting Richard Jones."In Chaplain Stewart’s office Riley sat, ramrod straight, across the room from Isabella Brown and her stern-faced father. Richard gaze narrowed as he fired a look in her direction. Not once did she deign to glance his way. She sat, her back as rigid as his own, but although she held her head high, her gaze refused to meet his. Perhaps it was just as well.First thing the previous morning, Richard had been called before his commanding officer. When he arrived, he’d discovered Chaplain Stewart and Lieutenant Commander Steven Kyl
Richard blamed himself still. He feared he’d frightened her so badly that she’d fled in horror. Had he hurt her? She’d been so tight and so small. It was all he could do not to slam his fist into the wall every time he thought about their brief encounter, which was damn near every minute of every day. What had happened to her since? Was she sick? Alone? Frightened? Pregnant?He’d been in control of their encounter until she’d kissed him. Now it was weeks later and he still reeled at the memory of the gentle, shy way in which she’d pressed her lips to his. He cursed how he could close his eyes and continue to taste her. How sweet she’d been. How warm and delicate. Her lips had molded to his, and her flavor reminded him of cotton candy. That alone was enough to torment him, but it wasn’t all. Her fragrance continued to obsess him. It wasn’t a commercial one he could name. The only way he could think to describe it was to imagine walking waist-deep in a field of wildflowers.The woman ha