Kisses in the Rain (32 page)

"Can't you two stop discussing business on your wedding day?" asked an exasperated Faye.

At that moment, a renegade wind cracked around the corner of the house, driving them all inside.

"I can't believe you're really going to live way out here in the wilderness," fretted Georgine with a distracted look out the window.

"We're going to buy a house in town," Nick said. "Martha will have a big kitchen where she can test new kinds of cookies, and Davey will have friends nearby to play with."

"And I'm finally going to go live with Wanda," Hallie said with obvious satisfaction.

"We'll stay at Williwaw Lodge on weekends," Martha said.

"And vacations," Nick said.

"That sounds pretty good," admitted a much-relieved Georgine. "Martha?"

"Yes, Mother."

"I can't tell you how pleased I am that you found such a beautiful ready-made family and so much love." Georgine beamed at everyone.

Martha hugged her and reached for the tray of cookies. "I'll munch to that," she said before handing them around.

Later, when their guests had all been ferried back to Ketchikan and Martha and Nick were alone on the
Tabor,
which was anchored in a secluded cove, Martha nestled in Nick's arms in the
Tabor's
narrow bed and said, "Thank you for such a beautiful wedding."

"Thank
you
for such a beautiful wife," he said.

"Do you wish it hadn't rained during the ceremony?" It was still raining, but softly.

"No. Do you?"

"No. Although for a while there I thought we might have to replace the cello player's cello."

Nick laughed. "We got a little wet," he agreed.

"We kissed in the rain," Martha said.

"And will probably kiss in the rain many, many more times," Nick said.

"Nick, do you know I love you more than—"

"Than what?"

"Than even chocolate-chip cookies?"

He studied her, his eyes gleaming. "Now that
is
a lot," he said. "Is it because I taste better?"

Martha laughed and rested her cheek against his. "I'm not sure," she said.

"Well, why don't you test me out?" he murmured, lowering his lips to hers.

They kissed, and then Martha pulled away. "I forgot to ask you what you thought of Sigmund's wedding gift."

He peered at her in the faint light from the kerosene lantern hanging over the bed. "You certainly picked a strange time to ask," he said. He barely recalled Sigmund's gift; it had looked like some kind of exotic rock.

"Well?"

"It's—uh, nice, I guess," Nick said. "What is it?"

"It's a crystal. It's supposed to improve the vibrations of our marriage."

Nick stared for a moment, then threw his head back in laughter.

"Where," Nick asked wickedly, "are we supposed to put it?"

"On a shelf or something, I suppose."

"What would improve the vibrations is if you would put your arms around me, like this and this," Nick said, demonstrating. "And your head like so, and your legs like so," he continued.

"I think I'm beginning to vibrate already," admitted Martha. Smiling, she lifted her lips to his.

And then the only sound was of the gently falling rain.

The End

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Page forward for an excerpt from

MORGAN'S CHILD

The Circles of Love Series

Book Three

Excerpt from

Morgan's Child

Circles of Love Series

Book Three

by

Pamela Browning

Award-winning Author

MORGAN'S CHILD

Awards & Accolades

Waldenbooks Romance Bestseller

"Maybe if you can give me some idea about your business," Morgan said, impatient because she'd interrupted his private dart game. This woman looked angry, worried, and very, very serious.

"It's personal," she said, and then she lowered her eyes to her huge belly and lifted them back to his. He stared at her, dumbfounded. She was implying—she must mean…

After he forced a courteous expression, he turned back to the woman, who had stood up. Now that she was on his eye level, he saw the panic behind her eyes.

"My office is this way," he said, wondering what was going on here. He had an idea that she was going to be big trouble.

He ushered her into his office.

"Please sit down," he said.

She sat. Here in the natural brightness of his office, the woman looked prettier.

Her blond hair hung past her shoulders in sun-bleached stripes, and she was appraising him with eyes as clear and gray as the summer sea at dusk. The smooth planes of her face were agreeable to the eye, but she was clearly a person of no sophistication, and as for those clothes, they were outlandish—a huge brownish-green dress with a ridiculous flirty ruffle around the hemline. She wore a flowing tie-dyed scarf around her neck, but it must have been an afterthought because the colors had nothing to do with those of the dress, which looked like a camouflage tent for an army tank.

"I don't believe I heard your name," he said.

"Kate Sinclair."

"Will you state your business?"

"I thought about writing you a letter, but I couldn't think of any way to phrase it, and I thought about telephoning, but I was sure you'd think I was some kind of oddball. But now..." and her words dwindled away. To his horror, her eyes filled with tears.

She pulled a clean white handkerchief out of her handbag and pressed it to each eyelid in turn.

"Ms. Sinclair, I wish you'd get to the point," Morgan said.

"This baby—" she said, folding her hands protectively over her abdomen "—this baby is yours."

Morgan leaned back in his chair and regarded her with distaste. Then, without meaning to, he winced. He'd forgotten where he'd hidden the dart.

"I've never seen you before in my life," he said, changing positions and unobtrusively sticking his hand in his pocket. The point of the dart had maneuvered itself into a most inconvenient place and was poking a very tender part of his anatomy.

"Courtney is an acquaintance of mine. She wanted to have a baby without actually bearing it, so I volunteered."

Morgan wasn't having any luck with the dart. He couldn't reach it without twisting his torso into an awkward and obvious position.

"Now I think it was the stupidest thing I've ever done," Kate continued, oblivious to his discomfort, "but at the time—at the time—" and she buried her face in the handkerchief. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

Now she wouldn't see, so Morgan writhed uncomfortably and plucked the dart out of his pocket.

She didn't notice,
he thought thankfully when she lifted her head. He slipped the dart into a desk drawer and accorded her his full attention.

"Am I to understand that my ex-wife asked you to serve as a surrogate mother?" he asked, ending his sentence on exactly the right note of disbelief.

"Yes," she whispered.

"And you claim that this child of yours is the result of those fertilized embryos that were given by the court into the custody of my ex-wife?"

Kate nodded miserably.

"Would you mind telling me what in God's name this has to do with me?
She
insisted on custody, and
she
was awarded it. I have nothing more to do with the matter." His eyes blazed with fury.

"Courtney doesn't want the baby now," Kate said. "Her new husband says there's no room for a baby in their lives."