The Awakening by Heather Graham Page B

wanted him.
    â€œPoop,” he repeated, frowning.
    She nodded. “I know. And I’ll be careful. I was just thinking that . . . we’re not really going to let Mr. Fallon influence our nights, are we?”
    He watched her gravely for a long moment. “Well . . . just so long as you think you’re capable of keeping the ecstacy down. We’ll have him in bed with us—and that’s a damned scary thought!—if he hears you screaming again. That old geezer would never know the difference between pain and pleasure. Ugh. Okay, no matter how incredible I am, you have to keep it down.”
    She punched him in the shoulder. “You could elicit utter silence, you know.”
    â€œNah—never,” he teased.
    â€œHm. Well, we’ll see. Poop. We should get up now.”
    But he didn’t move. He laced his fingers through hers, drew them to the ground, and kissed her. They were married. They’d kissed a million times. But there was something erotic about this. And something a little painful and desperate as well. And yet she found herself thinking that he was right, if they were to continue from this point in a hotel room, she might well be screaming . . .
    Yet, as she was thinking of the pure sensuality of his simple gesture, he was suddenly rising. He pulled her up with him, and started dusting off his clothing. “Public park,” he said ruefully. “Or common, or whatever you call it.”
    She nodded. “Finn,” she said softly.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI love you.”
    She thought he would say something like, “I love you, too.” Or, “You know I love you, too.” Perhaps, “Ditto, kid,” or something like that.
    Instead he was silent for a long moment. And when he spoke, his voice was deep. There was almost a tremor in it.
    â€œI’d die for you,” he told her.
    The wind picked up around them. His eyes were emerald in the coming darkness. Leaves seemed to rise and fall, as if the elements garnered in on their private conversation. Despite his words, she was suddenly cold.
    â€œWell—let’s hope it never comes to that!” she said lightly. “Hey, we need to head to Morwenna’s. We’ll have to skip Aunt Martha’s for today—we’ll see her tomorrow. We should look for the bracelet, then head back to the B and B and get ready for tonight. You think?”
    He nodded. He reached out. Not taking her hand, the way he usually did. He reached out, and waited for her to accept his hand.
    They started out of the park.
    It had been empty. The streets were not. Once again, they joined various groups of people on the sidewalks. Couples here and there, parents with kids. Young people. Some decked out in costume apparel, some in the hip clothes of the younger generation. People talking. Laughing. Even arguing. Mostly enjoying one another.
    It took only a matter of minutes to reach Morwenna’s. The store was still crawling with both the curious and paying customers. Sara was on guard duty at the door.
    Sara was startled when Finn pulled back at the sight of her, almost as if he were a dog or a horse that sensed extreme danger in the path.
    â€œHey!” she called to them.
    Was she getting paranoid? Megan wondered. Or did Sara seem uneasy at the sight of Finn as well?
    â€œSuper busy in there, huh?” Megan said.
    â€œThere’s always room for family,” Sara said. “Sorry!” she said to a group of people waiting for the shop to clear out before they entered. “Morwenna’s cousin.”
    Apologetically, Megan and Finn slipped through the door, past the waiting group. Inside, it was wall-to-wall people. Megan reached her cousin, telling her about the bracelet, asking if it had been found.
    â€œNo, I’m so sorry. Or not yet, at least,” Morwenna told her. “But, don’t despair—once we close, I’ll really look around the place and see if it’s