Heart of Gold - By Tami Hoag Page 0,72

curls. The desire to wrap her up and hold her forever was an ache in his chest he was certain would never leave him. She fit in his arms like a puzzle piece that had been missing from his life. He knew he would never feel complete without her.

“I’m a jaded, cynical cop,” he said. “I’ve seen too much of the ugly side of life. I’ve been a part of that too long. What do I have left to offer you, Faith?”

Her mouth lifted in a smile of infinite feminine wisdom. The love that shone in her eyes was warmer than the sun. “I can live with what you are, with who you’ve been, but I don’t want to live without you, Shane. Offer me your heart, your love.”

“You already have them,” he whispered.

“Then there’s nothing else I’ll ever need.”

The sense of deliverance, of salvation was so strong, it brought tears to his eyes. The taste of it as he bent his head and settled his mouth softly against Faith’s was like nourishment to his starving soul, it was like wine to a man who’d been through a desert. He drank deeply and slowly, savoring every drop.

Faith reached up with her good hand to clutch at Shane’s broad shoulder. Relief swept the last of her strength away, and she leaned into him, knowing he would hold her, knowing he would never let her fall. His strong arm banding around her back proved her trust was warranted. Safe in his arms, safe in the knowledge that he was hers, she concentrated on their kiss, on the warm, wild taste of him and the tenderness of his possession.

When he lifted his head, she looked up at him and said, “I have something for you.”

Reaching into the pocket of her robe, she pulled out the ring Bryan had sent her and handed it to Shane. He examined it in the soft lamplight, his pulse skipping as he compared the intertwined golden hearts on the face of the ring with the delicate charm that rested against Faith’s creamy skin. He read aloud the inscription etched inside the gold band, his voice soft and smoky with emotion. “Two hearts, one destiny.”

“You can read Gaelic?” She sounded every bit as incredulous as she looked.

Shane merely blinked at her, as if to say “Can’t everyone?” She shook her head and stepped back into the circle of his arms, cuddling against him as best she could, considering her arm was in a sling.

“It figures,” she murmured with a soft, sweet smile.

And they held each other for a long time, neither one of them noticing the soft ker-thump that sounded in the hall as the bedroom door swung gently shut.

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romance trilogy by Tami Hoag

Reilly’s Return

REILLY WAS GOING to show up sooner or later. It was fate, destiny, an ominous portent that had appeared in her morning horoscope. She could feel it in the bottom of her belly, that deep, hollow sense of impending doom. She could feel it in the weight of the antique gold bracelet that circled her left wrist with tingling warmth. That was a sure sign.

It wasn’t going to matter a bit that she had left Hollywood and moved up the coast to Anastasia—hundreds of miles away from Tinsel Town in more ways than just distance. The year of waiting was over, and he was going to find her.

Jayne Jordan abandoned the wall she’d been washing, dropping her sponge in the metal bucket full of soapy water that sat beside her. Tucking her feet beneath her, she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut as if preparing to dunk her head under water. Heedless of the fact that she was sitting on a scaffolding eight feet above the floor of the stage, she released the air from her lungs and willed herself to relax. Strains of a Mozart serenade floated through her mind as she attempted to banish the sense of dread from her body. Unfortunately, the sweet joyous notes that had poured unblemished from the composer’s soul did nothing to erase the image of Pat Reilly from her mind.

She could see him clearly. His image was indelibly etched on her memory. Those breathtaking sky-blue eyes, pale and opalescent, staring out at her from beneath straight dark gold brows; eyes set in a face that was ruggedly masculine. She could feel the intensity of those eyes penetrating her aura, burning through her veneer of restraint and searing her