Free Born To Be Wild by Patricia Rosemoor Page A

apart and Isabel raising Lucy on her own.
    It was about what had happened between them twelve years ago. Or rather, what hadn’t happened…
    Unable to stand the hurt he’d caused her, Micah took her in his arms, and she clung to him, grabbed his shirt in a tight fist. With her sobbing against his shoulder, he realized a truth he’d tried to bury.
    No matter the obstacles they’d both managed to create between them, he’d never stopped loving her throughout all these years. He didn’t know how he’d ever gone on without her.
    He hadn’t been living—he’d simply been existing.
    But what about her? Had she done the same? Or…
    Pain uncoiled deep inside him, threatened to swallow him whole. He couldn’t tolerate a future with more of the same.
    But it would take two to create change.
    Would Isabel even consider forgiving him?
    …
    When every emotion had drained from her, and she didn’t have one tear left to cry, Isabel took a deep, shuddering breath. She was so exhausted she could hardly think. Or move. Not that she could sleep, not when surely there must be something she could do to help find Lucy.
    Embarrassed that Micah had seen her like this—weak and so needy—she tried to pull away, but he held onto her.
    She shook her head. “I’m so exhausted. Maybe a shower…”
    “Good start.” He guided her toward the bathroom.
    She felt so drained she could hardly move herself. When he got her into the bathroom and let go of her, she just stood there.
    “Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
    Isabel shook her head. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be all right again.”
    “We’re going to get our girl back.”
    So he kept saying. She just prayed he was correct. Weak-kneed, she put a hand to the wall for support and gave him a bleak smile. “I-I need to wash away the disappointment.” But she still couldn’t move.
    Micah stepped past her into the walk-in glass enclosure, turned on the rain-shower, and adjusted it. “There. It’s perfect now. All you have to do is get your clothes off and step inside.”
    “Okay.” But still she couldn’t find it in her to pull off her top or jeans—forget taking the first step toward the shower.
    With a soft curse, Micah hooked an arm around her waist and firmly backed her up into the shower fully clothed. When he tried to let go of her, she wouldn’t let him. She pulled him in with her, clung to him as if he were her lifeline. Which, she suddenly realized, he truly was. For now, at least.
    He slipped an arm around her and leaned back to look at her. She reached up and touched his wet face with shaking fingers as water poured over them both.
    He was so strong. So gentle. So positive they’d get their Lucy back, while her own mind screamed with doubt.
    She needed his comfort.
    At this moment, she needed him.
    Sliding a hand around his neck, she tugged at him until he dropped his head low enough that she could touch his lips with hers. Watching him, she saw his expression change, his eyes darken, his features harden.
    “Isabel—”
    “Please,” she whispered.
    And then with a groan he was kissing her, and she was kissing him, and for a few blessed minutes her unbearable thoughts switched off, and this moment was all that existed in the world.
    He pushed her against the tiled wall, flattening his hands on either side of her head, all the while ravishing her mouth like a man starving for the taste of her. She arched into him, her breasts against his chest, capturing his hard length with the softness hidden by her thighs. She moved against him until he groaned and then ground into her. Suddenly his hands slipped between them, his thumbs finding her nipples through her top and bra. She found him, too, stroking his tantalizing length through his jeans with an urgency that made her head go light.
    He slipped a hand down her stomach, pulling down the zipper of her jeans. She was already on fire. Rubbing and stroking her through the fabric between her thighs, he