Then suddenly Alec moved, grabbing her arms and spinning her around so her back was against the wall. His lips were hard, almost cruel when they came down on hers. Hungrily, he took her mouth, consuming hers with a passion that threatened to devour her very soul. There was no gentleness this time, just raw need. And she gloried in the strength of him, the taste of him. She kissed him back with all the pent-up longing that had been tearing her apart for days, silently conveying her need for him. One last time. One final glimpse of heaven in his arms.
The thin straps of the dress prevented him from touching her. With little effort he dispensed with them and roughly pushed the dress to the floor. His hands cupped her bare breasts, molding them, kneading them, feeling them expand under his touch while his mouth continued to ravish hers. His mouth left her lips, kissing and nipping a path to her neck, then lower to suck the swollen buds of her breasts. She trembled, her hand fisted in his hair, holding him to her.
His hand slid down across her stomach, then lower, to the sensitive area between her legs. The surge of passion at his touch pushed her hips against his hand, confirming her need. Alec quickly removed the thin scrap of lace and stroked her. She moaned at his touch.
She heard Alec let out a low growl.
“I can’t go slow,” he rasped against her ear, his voice rough.
“I don’t...want you...to.”
He unfastened his pants just enough, then lifted her, positioning her to receive him. Without a second’s pause, he pushed deep inside.
His hungry mouth swallowed her soft moans as her body strove to accommodate him, to accept and embrace him and the heated force that drove him. It was as though he needed to brand her as his. If only that were true. She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him to her as he began to move, driving any coherent thought from her mind. His muscles hardened as he pounded into her, taking her hard, filling her.
“Oh, Alec. I’m...” She didn’t finish the sentence, but he knew.
Grasping her hips, he pushed even deeper, again and again, until she cried out as her passion exploded. The final waves of her climax caught Alec in the storm of emotion and he followed her, pulsating deep inside her as he growled her name.
As the waves of passion subsided, she cupped the back of his head, smoothed the damp tendrils of his hair, kissed his neck and under his chin while he fought for breath.
“I love you, Alec,” she said softly. “Forgive me, but I love you.”
He raised his head and his eyes found hers. “Shea,” he murmured her name, then kissed her again, passionately, silently sealing the bond between them.
He swung her into his arms. Without a word, he carried her into the bedroom, placing her on the soft mattress. Quickly shedding his clothes, he lay down next to her, pulling her close.
Her head resting on his broad chest, she listened to the strong beat of his heart. She was still reeling from his lovemaking and the fact he was here with her instead of at his meeting.
“What do you remember?”
She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to do this. Not now. She hadn’t figured out exactly what to say to him. But she answered truthfully. “Everything.”
“Why did you go into the house?” His hand played in the fine strands of her hair.
“I...thought I saw Scotty. Upstairs. In his bedroom window. I thought you’d brought him back.” She pulled away and looked at him through the pale city light filtering into the room. “I couldn’t find you in all the chaos, but maybe if I hurried, I could save him. When I got to his room, I realized it was his stuffed owl that I’d seen from outside. As I was running back to the stairs, I remembered the chest. I thought I could save it.”
She lay back on her pillow, covering her face as the somber weight of total loss returned. “It was all I had...from my mother, the only pictures of my dad. After our wedding, when I folded Mom’s gown and put it back in the chest, I thought it would be a safe place.” Swallowing hard, she turned her gaze to Alec. “Why did you come back? How did you...? I don’t understand.”
“I intended to make sure you got out of the house before something happened. My timing could have been better. I was on my way back and saw the flames.” A rueful smile touched his lips. “I’d anticipated evicting you would be a major hurdle, but I never anticipated having to carry you out unconscious.”
She drew in a sharp but shaky breath. There was her answer. He had just eliminated any lingering hope. When Alec had asked her how much she remembered, it included his demand that she leave. And he’d just confirmed he’d meant it.
It had all, finally, come to an end.
In the slender moments before the light of a new day began to appear in the eastern sky, Shea made her way quietly through the suite and toward the door, glancing one last time at the sleeping man on the bed. He had come into her life so unexpectedly. But in the end, he’d given her so much more than he would take away. Now it was her turn to give him the freedom he needed to go forward with his life. And somehow, maybe, someday she could get on with hers.
Thirteen
The week she spent with Leona provided some time and space for Shea to try to work through all the emotions and grief eating away at her soul. Leona gave her plenty of room and didn’t try to encourage her to talk but made sure Shea knew she was there for her if or when she needed her.
Alec had called every day, checking to be sure she was all right. She’d heard Leona assuring him that Shea would be fine. It was good to know somebody thought so.
This morning, Shea felt the time had come. The day dawned bright and beautiful, and she knew she’d avoided returning to the ranch long enough. She had to take the next step in saying goodbye. Had to deal with the memories of when she’d been happy, her heart full of hope.
She thanked Leona for her offer to accompany her, but this was something Shea had to do on her own. With quiet understanding, Leona held out the keys to her truck.
The site where the house had stood for so many years had been cleared, all remains of the old structure removed and the ground leveled. Parts of the small path that at one time had led from the kitchen door through the small back yard and out to the main barn were still visible. All of the various ranch buildings were intact. Only the house was missing.
She slowly followed the path across the yard and into the hallway of the main barn. The familiar scents of freshly cut alfalfa, leather and pine shavings filled the air. She stopped to stroke the silky necks of the horses housed inside. When she got to Ransom’s stall, memories flooded her mind and pain gripped her heart anew. The day Alec had ridden the spirited animal to the old homestead. The small campfire where they’d talked and laughed and shared the meal Hank had prepared for them.
The rain.
The night that had followed.
Forcing herself away from the stall, she ambled on toward the tack room. Before she reached it, her eyes fell on an object that looked incredibly familiar. Sitting against the wall on the floor was what appeared to be the old trunk. But that was impossible. It had been destroyed in the fire. Frowning, she reached down and touched the top, almost afraid it would disappear. But it was real. The marks of fire damage were apparent on the top and sides, but overall, it was in remarkably good condition.
Immediately falling to her knees, she pushed open the lid. A faint pine scent touched her senses. Removing the layer of tissue paper she saw the family pictures. How did they get here?
Beneath the photographs were her mother’s hand-embroidered linens followed by the two quilts bearing the initials A.H., and, finally, the wedding gown. She swallowed hard as she gently reached in, picked up the dress and held it to her heart. Alec was behind this. Somehow, he’d managed to save it all.
Memories of her holding the dress in front of her, trying to decide if she should wear it to their wedding, flashed through her mind. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She was glad she’d worn it. With a sad smile, she gently folded the dress, intending to return it to the trunk. Then she noticed a loose board on the bottom. Frowning, she set the gown on the quilts and removed the thin piece of wood.
Beneath it...letters. Dozens of letters. Really old, yellowed with age. What are these? Picking up the one on top, she began to read.
April 12, 1814
My Dearest Alyssa, My Beloved...
They all were signed William Morreston. Alec’s great-great-grandfather.
Glancing over the words, she quickly saw they were love letters. Another look inside the trunk and Shea saw an old photo among the letters. The tin-plated picture had two images: a young woman standing beside a tall, handsome man.
Suddenly, she knew what these were, the pieces falling together like parts of a puzzle. William Morreston had courted Alyssa Hardin, daughter of the widow, Mary Hardin. He’d courted her, fallen in love with her and they had planned to marry. Photographs were rare and costly back in those days. It had to have been taken for a very special occasion. Such as a wedding. The quilts, the linens...this trunk had been Alyssa’s hope chest. And it was Alyssa who had perished in the fire at the old homestead. Before she could become William’s wife.
One thought exploded inside her head: it had never been about the land. The contract written two hundred years ago, the clause that forced her and Alec to marry, all of it had been intended to bring two ancestors of William and Alyssa together.