Free Reclaimed by Marliss Melton Page A

words to Lionel Richie’s Endless Love .
    As Connor’s thighs brushed hers, a spark of yearning kindled low in her belly.
    My love , there's only you in my life. The only thing that's bright.
    God, it felt good to be held by a big, strong man, even though she had nothing to say to him. She reminded herself that there’d been nothing bright about their many years togethe r, either . Connor had spent most of that time on undercover assignments, and she had raised their children virtually alone. And even that would have been okay, if he’d just come home and talk ed to her; if he’d just share d his trials and tribu lations, his hopes and dreams. Instead, he’d conveyed his feelings for her through his touch. The sex had always been g reat —stellar, in fact— but it wasn’t enough. She’d wanted words, and he’d never given them to her.
    Even now, he looked at her like he was expecting her to close the breach with something warm and apologetic. Why should she, when she wasn’t the one who’d built the wall between them? S he’d done everything she could think of to keep him from erecting it, brick by brick. If he’d just talked more about his feelings, then maybe they’d still be together .
    And your eyes, your eyes, your eyes, they tell me how much you care . . .
    She made the mistake of glancing up. The hunger in Connor’s green eyes made the spark in her belly flare without warning. She swallowed hard, shocked to discover that her attraction to him hadn’t waned one bit as a result of their separation.
    “You’re staring,” she scolded, hoping the heat in her face didn’t betray her response to his nearness.
    “Well, that’s your fault.” He paired the easy answer with a fluid pivot.
    “ My fault.” She gasped at the offending words.
    “You picked the sexiest dress to wear and you expect me not to stare?”
    Oh. She realized she just been complimented, Connor style.
    A flush of pleasure heated her cheeks as she glanced down at the clingy red-sequined gown . She admitted to herself that she had bought it with him in mind. “You like it?” 
    “You have to ask?”
    Their hips brushed again, and she discovered, with a secret thrill, that his appreciation was largely evident. Her mouth went dry and her legs turned weak . Desperate and impulsive thoughts flooded her mind, forcing her to acknowledge how much she missed his tender and thorough lovemaking . But desire was not enough. They’d proven that already. 
    Oh , I know , I know, I've found in you my endless love .
    The bitter irony of the song’s lyrics made Karen’s heart contract. Her endless love had burned down to a pile of glowing cinders. What she’d always wante d was what Drake and Skyler had: a deep and articulated emotional connection. 
    “I can’t do this,” she whispered, stepping back.
    Connor’s face became a mask. His hands dropped to his side.
    Squelching the impulse to apologize, Karen whirled and walked blindly off the parquet floor in search of the lady’s room. A glance back at the door revealed both her children watching her retreat. And despite their very different personalities, the disappointment etched on their faces was identical.  
     

Chapter Two
     
    Garbage night.
    Karen tied shut the trash bag as she pulled it out of its canister. The quiet in her house seemed to magnify the plink , plink of her leaking faucet. Short of calling an expensive plumber, she had no idea how to fix it on her own.
    She reached across the counter and snapped on the radio to drown out the sound. But the melodious and melancholy voice of Bing Crosby singing Silver Bells only seemed to magnify her loneliness. Her home had never been this quiet two days before Christmas.
    Hefting the full plastic bag, she made her way across the kitchen, through the laundry room and out into the cold garage. At the side exit, she disarmed the security system Connor had installed a decade earlier. Their neighborhood in Arlington, Virginia, was as