Wickedly Wonderful(64)

For the first time since he was a kid, he felt something almost like . . . hope. A shimmer of happiness, a glimpse of optimistic possibilities. Clearly, Beka was not the craziest one in the room. And yet, despite all that he had seen and learned in his years on this planet, he suddenly felt as though a curtain had opened and revealed a future he could never have hoped to achieve.

All because of Beka.

He looked down at her; this unexpected miracle. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, that glorious blond sheaf of hair falling in a tumble of silken strands over both of their naked bodies. One tanned leg was thrown on top of his in comfortable abandon, and her arm was flung over his chest as if she lacked the energy to move it. It was a position he could get used to.

In fact, it was with some shock that he realized he could get used to the entire package: Beka, sex, curling up together . . . forever.

Forever was never a word he had considered before. Everything in his life had always been temporary. Living with his father until he was old enough to get away, staying with the Marines until he couldn’t stand the killing anymore, coming back to take care of his sick da until the old man died or got better enough to manage without him. But suddenly, he found himself thinking of the long term; settling down, finding something to do with the rest of his life that actually meant something to him, and maybe, just maybe, sharing that with someone.

He laughed a little, knowing that he was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead, where one completely inappropriate but bewitching hippie surfer girl was concerned. There was no way that things could work between them. They were so different, and he came with so much baggage. Why would a woman so full of light and life ever be interested in a man as dark and haunted as he was?

And yet, for a moment, he actually dared to hope. There was something so real and true about Beka, it made him feel as though he could find whatever was real and true in himself and bring it to the surface. He’d been accused of having trust issues—and no wonder if he did, between a mother who’d left when he was a kid, a father who had allowed his only brother to be killed, and a dozen years spent living in a war zone. But with Beka, he felt as though somehow he might find a way to learn how to trust. Now there was a crazy thought.

“What’s so funny?” Beka asked, a strange shadow coming over those glorious blue eyes as she tilted her head back to look at him. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Marcus smiled at her. “Just thinking. Mostly about how wonderful you are.”

She flushed, and he enjoyed watching the pink tide moving across her face and down her chest.

“I’m not wonderful,” she said. “Although that certainly was.”

He bent his head to kiss her. “Yes, it was. And yes, you are, Beka. I know I don’t always seem to appreciate your quirkier side, but I don’t want you to think that doesn’t mean I don’t like you just the way you are.”

For some reason he didn’t understand, her face grew even sadder, the shadows moving from her eyes to overtake those luscious lips, which no longer smiled in relaxed contentment.

“What?” he said in alarm, raising himself up on one elbow. “Beka, honey, I’m just trying to tell you how much you’ve come to mean to me. I know I’m not good at showing it, but I didn’t want you to think this was just some adrenaline-fueled roll in the sack. It meant something.” He smiled at her, tugging on one golden tress. “I swear, you’ve cast a spell on me. I’ve never felt like this before.”

Beka sighed, sitting up in bed and pulling the light blanket that had been thrown over the back of the futon up to cover most of the amazing body he’d just made love to. Twice.

“For the record,” she said, “I’d like to make it clear that I didn’t. Cast a spell on you, I mean.”

Marcus blinked, feeling like he’d missed something. “What are you talking about, Beka?”

“I have something to tell you,” she said, squaring her shoulders as if facing a firing squad. “But first I need you to know that it meant something to me too. That you mean something. And I definitely didn’t cast a spell on you; not at any time.”

He was starting to get a little irritated, and more than a little worried. “Beka, there is no such thing as spells—we both know that. What the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s something I’ve been keeping from you,” she said. “Something important. I didn’t tell you before because I knew you wouldn’t like it, and really, it wasn’t something you needed to know. But now everything has changed.” She bit her lip, already red and swollen from their lovemaking. “I hope in the end, you can still say that you like me just the way I am.”