Lost and Found Groom by McLinn, Patricia (my miracle luna book free read .TXT) 📕

to a figment, and finally with the loneliness of having their child without him beside her.

She had barely begun to withdraw her hand, when he clasped her wrist. For a suspended moment they remained like that.

She could pull away. She should pull away.

Instead, she turned to him, her knees against his right thigh, easing the stretch of her arm across her body. He bent his head, his dark lashes partially lowered, and kissed her fingertips. Warmth flared from where his lips touched, down her arm, into her chest, then deeper.

His mouth dropped to her palm, a lingering contact that translated into a long, hot shiver down her backbone and pulses of sensation in her hardening nipples.

Thought had fled, evaporated by the heat and sensation of his touch, and her own longing.

He skimmed the heel of her hand, from under her little finger to the pad of her thumb. His callused thumbs dredged up the hem of her sleeve, exposing her forearm to her elbow. Again, he drew her arm up as he bent over it, kissing the tender skin there, then tracing a pattern with his tongue. The shivers deepened to shudders.

A nearly comatose instinct for self-preservation jerked her muscles into action, trying to capture her elbow from him and tuck it against her side.

But that solitary instinct hadn’t figured on the way the back of his fingers, still wrapped around her arm, would brush against her breast, grazing her hardened nipple with a softness that sent a new jolt along all her nerve-endings.

And those muscles hadn’t figured on the way he would follow her retreat, so his face came near enough to hers that a sway of motion by either one of them would bring their mouths together.

They held there an instant, so close she could see in his eyes, along with a reflection of herself, his memories of their kisses. Or were they her memories?

His grip on her arm eased–she’d been unaware how tight it was until he loosened it–and he backed away slightly. It was enough.

She withdrew her hand, her arm and herself.

“I am sorry, Kendra, I didn’t intend to make you sad. And I didn’t intend–”

“It’s all right, Daniel.” She dredged up a smile. “No harm done.”

Would there have been harm done if he had kissed her lips? If they had kissed each other? Harm to what? Or who?

She rushed past her own questions with words.

“And I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry I didn’t understand three years ago what you were doing, didn’t try to help instead of trying to hunt down Taumaturgio. Maybe if I’d known–if I’d understood–I could have done more, stayed in Santa Estella after the storm–”

“No. I’m glad you came here. I’m glad you brought Matthew here. Whenever I think of you leaving Santa Estella, I’m grateful.”

“Daniel, now you have to leave Santa Estella behind, too.”

“I don’t have much choice.” He seemed to make an effort to shake off his mood. “I can’t go back to Santa Estella now without being as reckless as you’re always accusing me of being.”

“Good.” She achieved a fair approximation of brisk approval. “You did so much, gave so much. Now someone else has to carry that burden for a while. For you, it’s over.”

His half smile disappeared.

“Sometimes a war’s over, but not ended. Not inside.”

CHAPTER NINE

She took him back to her house.

Even the next morning she couldn’t quite believe that.

Not that anything happened.

The church custodian had clattered into the co-op room with buckets and vacuum, paying them no heed and breaking the spell of confidences. Before she could blink, Daniel’s armor was in place and he’d disappeared behind a sardonic grin.

“I really know how to show a girl a good time, don’t I?” He gave the piano keys a jazzy flourish, then stood.

It would have been a more effective gesture if he hadn’t swayed.

“When did you last eat?”

“Eat?” he repeated distractedly. Apparently he was pouring most of his will into standing.

“Eat. Food. Did you have lunch?”

“No. Tight connection in Denver.”

“Breakfast?”

“No time. Had to get to the airport.”

“Dinner last night?”

He frowned, then gave her that twisted grin. “Wasn’t much hungry then.”

She clucked her tongue at him the way she would at Matthew. “C’mon. We’re going to get you something to eat. And some rest.”

“I’ll take you to dinner.”

“Not tonight you won’t. I already have steaks out, and I’m not going to waste them.”

Two steaks, which she’d defiantly vowed to cook at one time, to prove to Luke how wrong he’d been. And now he’d be right. Good thing he’d never know.

Daniel must have been weak because he didn’t argue. So she’d driven him to her house, leaving his car in the parking lot.

She’d cooked the steaks–meant to be her dinner and three days’ lunches–added a green salad, beans and baked potato. He ate every bit on his plate, and said little. She’d felt no need for conversation, either.

She’d suggested he go sit on the couch while she finished the minimal clean-up, and he complied. She discovered him with his head back against the top of the couch, sound asleep.

Just like his son. Feed him and he’s out like a light.

Her smile faded as she remembered the day after his arrival, when he’d watched her put Matthew down for his nap. The haunted expression he hadn’t been able to mask after looking at pictures of Matthew’s babyhood had been back today. Now she understood more about the ghosts that populated that look.

He was a man haunted by his own expectations of himself. Expectations that he needed to rescue the world in order to deserve a place in it.

She could wake him and send him home–wherever he lived now that he’d left the motel. She’d purposefully not looked at the papers he’d given her, including the one with his new address and phone number, before storing them in a drawer.

Sending him home was probably the wisest thing to do. Safest.

Then she remembered that she’d driven him here. She’d have to drive him back to the church, and