The Heart of Devin MacKade (The MacKade Brothers 3)

“I can’t explain that, either. Just a feeling. She didn’t know how else to get free. And maybe because I thought about it once.”

The blood drained from his face. “Good God, Cassie.”

“Not for very long,” she said quickly. “And not very seriously. I had the kids to think about. If I hadn’t had them, I might have thought about it longer. When you’re trapped, Devin, you get crazy ideas about escape.”

Nothing he knew about her had ever frightened him more. “I would have helped you. I wanted to help you.”

“I wouldn’t let you. I wouldn’t let anyone. You, Ed, Regan. There were others, too, others who were willing to do whatever they could. I was wrong not to accept the help, but that’s over now.” She curled her hands over his. “I’m not telling you this to upset you, but to try to help you understand how I know she did it. She didn’t have people to help her. He’d seen to that. He made sure she was cut off from the women in town, made sure the servants were too frightened to do anything but stand back.”

Somewhere in her mind, she could almost feel it, see it. “He hit her, too. It was his fist I saw today. Not Joe’s. But it’s the same, you see. So much the same. When he killed that boy in front of her, she knew he was capable of anything. She gave up, Devin. Eventually even her children weren’t enough to keep her from escaping in the only way she knew.”

“It’s not you, Cassie.”

“It could have been.”

“But it’s not,” he said firmly. “You’re here, you’re with me. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of.”

“I’m tired of being afraid.” She closed her eyes, let her head rest on his shoulder as he crouched in front of her. “I’m glad you’re here.” She let out a deep sigh. “Why are you here?”

“I worked it so I could clear out for an hour. I wanted to see you. I wanted to be with you.”

“I thought about you all morning. I nearly put coffee in Emma’s thermos for school, because I was thinking about you instead of what I was doing.”

“Really?” He couldn’t think of a more satisfying compliment. When she lifted her head, he could see that the color was back in her cheeks. “Were you thinking that you’d like to make love with me again?”

“Yes, I was.”

“I’ve still got most of an hour,” he murmured, rising and bringing her to her feet.

She blinked. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Uh-huh.” He drew her toward the hall.

“Devin, it’s daylight.”

“That’s right.” He unhooked the belt that held his beeper and weapon, hung them over the doorknob.

“It’s…” Her heart stumbled as he reached out to unbutton her blouse. “It’s barely noon.”

“Yeah, I’m going to miss lunch.” As he slipped the blouse from her shoulders, lowered his mouth toward hers, he smiled. “Do you want me to stop, Cassie?”

Her head rolled back on her shoulders. “I guess I don’t,” she said, weak, willing.

She forgot that the sun was shining and the birds were twittering. She forgot that traffic was cruising by on the road, and that pe

ople were going about their business in town.

It was so easy, so powerfully easy, to let it all happen again. It was so easy to enjoy the way his hands moved tenderly over her, the way his mouth coaxed hers to warm. He felt so good against her when she curled her arms around him, so solid, that she forgot to feel self-conscious because the sun was pouring through the windows.

He undressed her, completely, taking his time over it, drawing out each moment just to look at her. To look at what was finally his. The softness. The sweetness. He kissed her, soothing and arousing her, as he undressed himself. His hands were gentle, because he knew it was what she needed. His mouth was patient, allowing her to set the pace. And the pace was slow and dreamy.

He lowered her to the bed she’d made so neatly that morning, gave himself the quiet delight of brushing her hair with his fingers until it was all tangled golden curls over the plain white quilt. Her eyes were closed, and already her cheeks carried the faint flush of stirred passions.

Last night there had been only the light from a practical and unscented emergency candle, a narrow bunk and a room that smelled of old coffee.

Today there was sunlight, birdsong, and the perfume of the flowers by her window. And today, he thought, she knew there would be pleasure.

He gave her pleasure. Rivers of it. She floated on it, glided on it, immersed herself in it without reserve. All hesitancy, all shyness, vanished under a warm haze of gently lapping sensations.