Bayou Heat (21 page)

She walked over to the air conditioner just to check. Nothing. A movement by the bathroom
caught her eye.

She turned, her heart catching in her throat. But the French doors were closed. Her
pulse plummeted, along with the rest of her spirits. It had been ten days since she
walked out of the bayou and away from Teague.

She’d seen Belisaire twice since then, but despite the
older woman’s continued help, she was remarkably, frustratingly, closemouthed about
her grandson. And Erin hadn’t been too proud to ask. If Belisaire had seen or talked
to him, she wasn’t saying. Erin knew she should just be thankful she had the woman’s
continued cooperation. And she was. But …

“Another cold shower it is.” She stepped into the bathroom and flipped on the light.

“Hello,
chèr
.”

Teague was stretched out—fully clothed this time—in her tub.

She had no idea how she remained standing.

He was wearing a snug black T-shirt and well-worn jeans. He was the most beautiful
thing she’d ever seen. Her chest ached at the renewed impact of what she’d lost.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hiding out.”

“Jealous husband or drug runners?” Her attempt at matching his relaxed humor fell
flat. That level of sophistication was simply beyond her. Hundreds of times she’d
imagined what she’d say to him if ever given the chance. Now nothing seemed right.
Least of all joking.

“Neither.” He climbed out of the tub and walked over to her. She trembled, but stayed
where she was. She’d withstand anything he had to say if it meant he’d be in her life
for at least a few minutes longer.

“I’m hiding from myself.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Actually, I’ve stopped hiding. That’s why I’m here.”

“Teague, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let me ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Are you glad I’m here? Do you want me here?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Oh, yes.”

Looking down, he blew out a long breath. “Thank God.”

More than a little confused, she said, “Teague, listen. I know I hurt you. God, that’s
not even close to what I did to you.” She paused, searching for the right words. “I
didn’t trust you when I should have. I didn’t make the right choice. I listened to
my head when I should have listened to my heart.”

“I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, Erin. More than I thought it would. More than
I thought it should.” He took a deep breath. “That’s partly why I’m here. I understand,
Erin. I know how hard it is to believe in someone else. And how much it hurts when
you do and they don’t.”

She looked away.

“Don’t. Look at me.”

She did. “I’m so sorry.” The ache in her chest threatened to choke the breath from
her.

“My first instinct was to walk away. Not to put myself in that position again. I beat
myself up pretty badly for allowing it to happen in the first place.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do that. You had enough to deal with. Oh, Teague—”

“I’ll come to terms with my family, Erin. Marshall. And, in time, with Belisaire.
I even plan on meeting with my father. I’ve asked to be reassigned to New Orleans
for at least the next two years. Not too close, but not too far either.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open. “Oh, Teague.” There was relief and hope
in the sounding of his name.

“I won’t say what happened didn’t throw me, or that I’m not still confused and angry.
But with my family—” He swallowed hard on the word. “Maybe it’s because my whole life
I’ve thought the worst where they are concerned, but strangely enough, I know that
in time, I’ll come to some sort of peace with it. At least within myself.

“But I should have been different. I should have believed you.”

He looked up at her, his anger and hurt clear in his eyes. “This last week and a half
I also realized something else.”

“What?”

“I’ve been running too long, Erin. Hating my past, telling myself I didn’t need a
home, that I didn’t miss the ties of family, of friends. Of people who cared about
me.”

“And now?”

“I was wrong about the bond of family.”

“How can you say that after—”

“Shh.” He reached out and traced a finger across her cheek. She shuddered, not expecting
to feel his touch. But she didn’t look away.

“I walked out ten years ago. I have no idea what kind of relationship I would have
had with them. But I
do know I have to participate. Without working at it, I’ll get nothing.”

“Teague, just because you weren’t here—” She stopped, then said, “You didn’t deserve
what happened.”

“It’ll take time, Erin. It may never be right. But I’ve realized that what I need
goes beyond blood ties. It’s about feeling connected. Even if it’s disappointing.
Even if it’s painful.” He let his hand drop. “I was wrong about needing a home.”

Tears tracked unheeded down her cheeks. “I wish it had turned out differently for
you. For all of you.”

“Shh,” he whispered. “No,
chèr
. You don’t understand.”

“What?”

“I’m not talking about Beaumarchais. Or even Bruneaux. Or even my family. Belisaire
will always be a part of my heart. The rest I’ll figure out in time. But there is
something special for me here. Something that binds me in a way that has nothing to
do with place, birthrights, or blood.”

She looked away, but he gripped her chin and turned her face back to his. “You.”

She gasped softly.

“You are my home, Erin. I think of you and I feel … connected. Stronger. Whole in
a way I’ve never felt before. For the first time I have a purpose. The place doesn’t
matter. You give that to me.” He pressed her hand to his chest. “Here. With me. Always.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I need that. I need you.” He grazed her lips with his.
“I love you, Erin.”

Teague waited. He’d never wanted anything so badly. Anyone.

“I’m so tired of running. Can I come home,
ange?
” he asked, his voice breaking.

In answer her arms went swiftly, tightly around him, her mouth fused with his so completely
his breath became hers. When she finally lifted her head, her smile was so bright
he felt as if he’d just stepped into the sun.

“Always, Teague. To me. With me.” She sniffed, then laughed and kissed him again.
He could taste her joy. Savored it, reveled in it.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth.

Relief was a sweet drug that immediately intoxicated him. Pure blinding joy filled
him until he thought he couldn’t contain such pleasure. He ran slow kisses along her
jaw. “For what?”

“I’ve never had a home either.”

He stilled, then lifted his head and looked at her intently. “You do now.”

“
Mais yeah, chèr
.” He kissed her hard and long. On a soft gasp she added, “Oh,
mais yeah
,” then kissed him again.

“Let’s get out of here so I can tell you I love you again.”

Her breath caught at his wide, sexy grin. He was her Cajun bad boy once again, but
fully open, the shadows haunting his eyes gone.

“More intimately,” he added.

She laughed. “What’s wrong with right here?”

He looked at her. “I promised you air-conditioning.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned. “I’m yours for life.”

He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her soundly. “You will be if I have anything
to say about it.”

“Then say no more.”

“But there is one thing I need to hear.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw, then gently
bit her chin. “Badly,
chèr
.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Tell me.”

“I love you, Teague.”

He groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

“That was way better than I thought it was going to be.”

“Well I plan to say it often, so get used to it.”

“Then you’d better get used to being naked and under me in some unusual and not always
convenient places.” He tugged her blouse from her shorts.

She yanked his T-shirt from his waistband. “Airconditioning is highly overrated.”
She lifted her arms so he could take her shirt off.

He dragged his off next, then groaned when she undid the snap and zipper of his jeans.
He nuzzled her neck, pulling her hips hard to his.

“There is one thing I’m dying to know, though,
ange
,” he said, his breathing deeper, harsher. “It’s been driving me crazy since the night
we met.”

She shifted so he could slide her shorts over her hips. “And what is that?” she panted
against his chest.

He stilled her motions.

She frowned. “What is it, Teague?”

“Just what did happen in Nairobi when you were eighteen?”

She slowly smiled and twined a strand of his hair around a slender finger. “If I tell
you, can I be on top this time?”

He laughed. “
Dieu
, you can have whatever you want,
chèr
.”

She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

He sighed low and long. Then pushed her up against the bathroom wall.

“You’ll owe me for this one,” she scolded, not in the least concerned.

“
Mais yeah, chèr
, but I have the rest of my life to pay you back.”

And he did. Slowly. With a great deal of interest.

Welcome to Loveswept!

We have an irresistible e-original for you coming next month: Juliet Rosetti’s sexy
and wickedly fun
THE ESCAPE DIARIES
. In this hilarious debut, we’re introduced to appealing heroine Mazie Maguire as
we follow her on an outrageous adventure on the run. Don’t miss this e-original —
I guarantee you’ll fall in love with Mazie and her funny antics.

We’re also offering four more spellbinding and thrilling books from Donna Kauffman:
BOUNTY HUNTER, TANGO IN PARADISE, ILLEGAL MOTION
, and
BLACK SATIN
, as well as
THE MAGIC
, an enchanting medieval historical from Juliana Garnett.

If you love romance … then you’re ready to be
Loveswept
!

Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher

P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming soon: We start 2013 with a fabulous
new e-original from Wendy Vella,
THE RELUCTANT COUNTESS
, Donna Kauffman’s captivating
WILD RAIN
, Karen Leabo’s moving
MILLICENT’S MEDICINE MAN
, and three fantastic titles from Linda Cajio:
SILK ON THE SKIN, HARD HABIT TO BREAK
, and
THE RELUCTANT PRINCE
. In February, we have another alluring e-original for you, Sharon Cullen’s
THE NOTORIOUS LADY JANE
, Patricia Olney’s touching and funny
JADE’S GAMBLE
, Linda Cajio’s sexy
STRICTLY BUSINESS
, Sally Goldenbaum’s wonderful
A DREAM TO CLING TO
, and two enticing books from Sandra Chastain,
LOVE
AND A BLUE-EYED COWBOY
and
MIDNIGHT FANTASY
. Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I promise that you’ll fall in love
and treasure these stories for years to come.…

Read on for excerpts from more
Loveswept
titles…

Read on for an excerpt from Ruthie Knox’s

About Last Night

The Pigeon Man was usually here by now. Tuning out her companion’s self-serving story
for a moment, Cath double-checked the LED display suspended over the station platform.
Ten minutes until the train. In this woman’s company, it would feel like a lifetime.

Resigned to her fate, Cath crossed her legs and relaxed back against the bench. At
least she could enjoy the unseasonably cool morning—the first break all week from
the miserable July weather that had been tormenting London.

“… and they told me it was the most brilliant way to add a tactile element to protest
action they’d ever heard of. I happened to mention you wanted to
put the piece in your exhibit, but they didn’t know who you are,” Amanda said, her
prep-school English accent turning the statement into an accusation.

Cath perked up. “I’m with the V and A. They know the V and A, right?” She was a small
cog, but she worked for a big machine. Surely even Amanda’s hard-core activist cronies
had heard of the Victoria and Albert Museum’s world-renowned collection, even if they
hadn’t heard of the upcoming exhibit on the history of hand knitting that Cath had
been hired to assist with.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Amanda said dismissively, and Cath spotted the sun gleaming off
the bald pate of the Pigeon Man as he made his way up the steps. He took his place
in front of the map kiosk and fixed his eyes on the ground. Calm today, then. When
he
didn’t talk, the Pigeon Man could pass for normal. It was when he launched into agitated
conversation with a stranger that he began thrusting his head forward in a bird-like
manner and his beady eyes and beaky nose took on greater prominence.