CHAPTER ONE

Unable to shake the apprehension gripping her gut, Marilyn stood in her office at the top of the multi-storied building and watched out the window, waiting to see David walk to his car. Gray, roiling clouds obliterated the normally crystal blue Maine sky. An autumn storm, a Nor'easter seemed to be boiling toward Sherry. From what Marilyn had been told during her short stay in the town, which would hold the central jewel in Midwest Viking's crown, such storms occasionally arrived this early in the year.

Rain began pelting the floor-to-ceiling windows of her office. Irrationally, Marilyn raised a hand to wipe away the drops, as she waited impatiently to see her lover, her fiancé, make his way to where the valet had parked his Jaguar. A sudden gust of wind shook the window, causing her to jump back half a step. Debris, bits of newspaper and pieces of cardboard danced across the pavement of the parking lot, like demons dancing to excite the passions of the devil storm hurling itself against the town.

Finally, David walked from under the cover of the building toward his car. Ignoring the wind-driven rain, he was nonchalantly strolling along, chatting with the security guard usually stationed at the front desk of the building. She watched as he threw his blonde head back and laughed at something the guard evidently had said. That was David: fearless and in control of himself and all that surrounded him. A full gale with rain so fierce that Marilyn could barely make his figure out across the drive meant nothing to him.

He waved at the guard and pulled open his door. One foot inside, he stopped and looked directly up at the window at which Marilyn stood. She watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips, kissed them and tossed the invisible kiss toward her. Unconsciously, she reached out to catch it, only realizing the futility of the act when her finger rapped against the icy pane of the window. Even if there'd been no sheet of glass between them, the kiss would have been lost on currents of the rising wind. David laughed again and waved at her, before disappearing inside the red Jaguar.

For a brief second, she demanded he look up again at her window. Somehow she'd make him understand that he should wait…wait for her. She just couldn't let him go off to his appointment without her. Marilyn couldn't shake the forbidding notion that she was watching him leave for the last time.

Only a moment later, she saw the bright red taillights of the Jag turn into the traffic of the street, lost from her vision.

An uncontrollable shudder ran through her and she hugged her arms close around her body. A chill permeated through the heavy wool suit and took up residence in her very bones. She just knew something was about to happen, something that would destroy her relationship with David.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely insane. Heavens, she was an astute and highly respected businesswoman. Not some child, given to foolish notions and superstitions. It was only because David and she had barely spent five minutes outside one another's company since she'd arrived in Sherry a week earlier. Within hours of her arrival, she'd shrewdly realized that she was in love with her employer. In the midst of all the feminine stirrings and longings, there was a core of unbridled logic that told her she'd found the one man who could complete her happiness, just as she could complete his. And with all the cunning and precise thinking that had led her to success in business, she'd decided against playing silly, female games…she merely made her feelings obvious to David.

Of course, she'd felt rather safe in that. No one could mistake the not-so-subtle signals David was sending her. The attraction was more than mutual. It was an undeniable fact.

Love at first sight? Hardly. She'd been working for Midwest Viking as an executive, as well as a jewelry designer, for nearly two years. And while until a mere week ago the relationship had been strictly professional, it hadn't taken them either very long to realize that their mutual admiration and affection had rooted itself deeper than nine-to-five at the office.

Marilyn turned away from the window and forced her arms to her sides. Taking a deep breath, she chased away her silly concerns for David's safety and walked to her desk. Brushing the skirt of her red wool suit under her, she slid into her chair and picked up the latest status report on the construction of the new store, only a few miles from the temporary office space they'd rented as a headquarters until the new building was constructed.

Casually, she scanned the report before her. As usual, concise and professional. Daryl, Midwest's architect, had provided her with all the information she needed to know in simple terms, without a lot of technical jargon that would have her reaching for her dictionary. Without needing to look, she reached over to the intercom on her desk and pressed the button to hail her secretary.

"Is Daryl still in the building?" she asked, then listened to a shuffling through the small speaker.

"Right here, boss. Need something?"

"Leave her alone, Daryl," Marilyn chuckled. "Can you step in here, please?"

"Right away, boss." She heard more shuffling of papers through the speaker before Daryl's voice, becoming more distant came through again. "Don't you change a thing, Darlin'. You're perfect the way you are. I'll be right back."

Marilyn didn't really need to see Daryl. His report more than told her what she needed to know. Yet, that gloomy feeling that had settled over her as she'd watched David leave failed to dissipate. Daryl's warmth and charm seemed the perfect antidote.

She rose at the light tap at the door. "Come in."

Daryl sauntered in and nodded at her, blessing her with the gift of a crooked grin and sheepish look in his blue eyes. She shook her head at him. It was more than just that Texan charm he couldn't leave behind. From the silver studded tips of his Western cut shirt to the impeccable blue jeans to the toes of his comfortably broken-in cowboy boots, Daryl looked as if he'd just stepped out of a tourism advertisement for the state of Texas.

"Wanted to see me, boss?" he drawled in his deep, sultry voice, waiting until she'd re-seated herself before flopping down in the chair across from her desk. He lazily crossed one leg over the other; calmly tapping a rhythm against his knee with nicely manicured nails.

"Daryl, you'll do me the favor of at least turning off the intercom before resuming your flirting with my secretary," Marilyn laughed, taking a deep breath and unbuttoning the jacket of her suit. Already his presence, the homelike comfort of his Texan drawl and his humor was allowing her to relax just a bit. "Come on. I finally have her trained to the point where I'm not getting kerosene for coffee and nail polish remover stains on the reports she's supposed to be typing for me. You're going to get her flustered, and then it's hell for me again."

"Ahh, Miss Marilyn, surely you wouldn't begrudge a simple old country boy a little pleasure. Ah rely on the kindness of strangers in these foreign parts," Daryl drawled, barely hiding his grin. "Besides, I've been waiting two years for you to get up here and put me out of my misery and what happens…You come up here and the next thing I know old David has snatched you right out of my fingers."

"Daryl, I was never in your fingers," Marilyn laughed, nervously rolling the sapphire and diamond engagement ring around her own finger. David had surprised her with it the day before, when they'd visited a local jewelry shop that stocked Midwest Viking jewels. She'd been stunned by the gift, even though he'd already proposed and she'd accepted. Yet, meeting David's parents for the first time that morning, she'd realized his wisdom in giving it to her so soon. With his ring on her finger, the normal nerves in meeting one's future in-laws disappeared entirely. Not that she'd had anything to worry about. Hilary and David Sr. were two of the nicest people she'd ever met, immediately treating her as if she were already one of the family. She already regretted that they headquartered themselves in London, only rarely returning to the States for visits and important business concerns.

"Oh, that which might have been lives only in the poet's heart and the drunkard's soul." Daryl crossed his hands across his heart and looked at her woefully.

"Shakespeare?" she asked, laughing again.

"Nope. Just me. See what you're missing with that old David? Bet he never waxed poetical for you."

"Hmmmm. Seems we never get around to poetry. Other things keep us pretty busy," she teased, glancing down again at her ring. "Now, let's talk some business."

"Fire away, boss. If I can't have your heart, I'll settle for your mind. Though, if I told you that you have a beautiful heart, would you hold it against me?" Daryl asked, chuckling deeply.

Marilyn ignored the old joke as she pulled up his report. "I've read this, and it sounds very good. But, I have a question for you," she said, tapping the paper. "This says we're slightly ahead of schedule, which means that we'll more than be able to open the new store on the projected opening date of December first next year. Here's my question…Daryl, if we pulled out all the stops, keeping proper construction codes in mind, could we push for an August first opening instead?"

Daryl sat up in his chair, allowing a long, low whistle to escape his lips. She could see the wheels turning in his brain as he weighed the proposal carefully before responding. It was the gleam that sparkled in his eyes that told her his answer before he even opened his mouth to speak.

"That would really be pushing it. We're headed into winter here…and that's going to slow down construction considerably. Remember that this isn't Texas. There's no twelve-month construction season here."

"I know. But, if the weather clears up for a while, couldn't we get the frame in place and enough construction completed so that the crew could start on the electricals and infrastructure?"

Daryl cocked his head first one way and then the other. "Yes, if this storm isn't the beginning of a rough winter, I think we could probably do that. It would mean extra overtime while the weather held, though."

"I think that could be offset by the profits we'd make by opening for the full holiday season next year. Plus, that would mean that by the following Christmas we'd already be an established business here. No hesitancy in accepting Midwest Viking. You know how people react to new businesses. And this is the kind of big ticket business where the sooner you build a reputation of quality and service, the more profitable the business becomes."

This felt right. This felt safe and secure again. For this brief time, she was able to push back her concerns, the bad intuition, over David. Marilyn knew the business as well as she did the back of her own hand. If it hadn't been for her daring, and sometimes seemingly reckless, business decisions, Midwest Viking-David-would never have taken the chance on giving her this plum assignment. It was that instinctive edge she possessed that had led to her repeated successes since joining the company. Not that she hadn't sacrificed to accept the position. She'd only recently bought a townhouse, now vacant in Dallas. And, she'd had to leave her parents half a country away at home, knowing that it would be months before she could even slip away for a long weekend to see them and doubting that either of them, sharing her fear of flying, would be able to come to Sherry to see her. It was the first and longest separation from them she'd ever experienced.

"How long would it take you to run up a proposal on a new opening date?" she asked. Knowing Daryl, he had probably already run half the numbers through his head as he sat there.

"Properly motivated, I could probably come up with some projections by tomorrow morning," he replied, settling back in his chair again.

"Properly motivated? Just what would it take to 'properly' motivate you, Daryl?"

She watched him lean toward her, grinning from ear to ear. "Leave David. Run away with me. Let me keep you in a style to which you could lower yourself. I mean, if I walk away from this just to steal you, I doubt I'd ever get another assignment. So, it would be beans and bacon, I'm afraid."

"And a six-pack properly chilled in the refrigerator at all time, too, I'm sure," Marilyn laughed. "You Texas boys. See why I think I did much better finding David? He only lived in Texas a few years. He didn't have code instilled in him from birth."

"Your loss, Darlin'." Daryl smiled again, as he rose. "I'll get right on this. You'll see the report by noon tomorrow."

"I've no doubt." Marilyn pushed herself up from her chair and watched him walk to the door. "Oh, and Daryl…thanks. I may belong to David heart and soul, but it's nice to know I'm appreciated."

Daryl winked at her before disappearing out into the lobby. She watched her door slide silently closed and walked back to the window. If anything, the storm was intensifying. A thin glaze of ice covered every surface. The roads would be treacherous for even the most experienced driver. She solaced herself in knowing that David had been raised here and had probably long ago arrived at his mysterious appointment.

That he hadn't told her where he was going or whom he was meeting surprised Marilyn. But, how much did they really know about one another? David had told her that it was better this way, that they'd have an entire lifetime of getting to know each other's little secrets, endearing habits and likes and dislikes.

"Marilyn, every day will be a new adventure," he'd promised, as they'd sat together at the beach near the lighthouse days earlier. It had been the day after they'd first made glorious, passionate love. She remembered laughing to herself that the old saying about that "glow" that surrounded lovers clung to them. As they'd sat there watching the breakers crash against the rocks, sending plumes of blue-green spray high in the air, and as a light wind ruffled their hair and brought the briny smell of the ocean to their nostrils, she felt that glow radiate around them. Together in one another's arms it hadn't seemed odd at all that they could find themselves passionately in love with one another and still know so little about each other.

The only worry dancing around the edges of their happiness had been their forgetfulness. The night before, mellowed by the heady wine David had selected for dinner and soothed by the romantic melodies playing in the background, it had only seemed natural to slide into one another's arms. Under the guise of dancing, all they'd actually done was cling to one another and sway under the seductive influence of the Chianti, Harry Connick and one another.

When his hands had slowly slid up her back to her shoulders, she'd moved closer and raised her face to his. She trembled now at the memory of that first taste of David's lips, as she realized that she was standing at the window swaying slowly, as she'd done that night.

Time stopped at that moment, lasting an eternity as she memorized the feel of his lips against hers, teasing and testing. Impatience had grown within her, spreading as quickly as the liquid fire igniting the passion she'd always held so tightly in control. Being with David meant that she could lose herself, allow the control to slip away, as she savored the uninhibited raw desire she felt for him.

That she had favored him with the gift of her virginity had both surprised and humbled him. As they lay, entwined together in the sheets of her bed at the Lang mansion, panting for breath and a descent back from the heaven they'd created with their bodies, she'd felt the slight tremor and the moisture of his tears as he'd held her. So strong, so vital, so in command of himself, yet the notion she'd given her very essence to him and him alone exposed the tender, gentle nature that she'd always somehow known he possessed.

It was his tears that brought the impulsive, instinctive need to take control and, in her inexperienced way, show him just how much pleasure he'd brought her by pleasing him. Only when he seemed on the verge of all loss of self had he rolled over taken possession of her again.

"I won't say I love you," he'd whispered hoarsely. "Not now. Though I've never really made love before tonight. Sure, I've had other women. But, I know the difference now between sex and making love. This is love, but I never want you to think that those words hold any more power now, when we're like this, than when we're drinking coffee at breakfast or watching videos in the evening. This is merely the exquisite result of loving you all the time."

And then it was Marilyn's turn to weep.

Running her hand over her eyes to block the sight of the horrendous weather outside, Marilyn was startled to find tears once again in her eyes. It had all been too perfect. And perhaps it was the worry that somehow there might be a chink in that perfection, for could anything be that really pure and ideal, that led her to worry over David's safety now, the first time they'd really been separated since they'd truly found each other.

"Get over it," she ordered herself. "He's fine. He's probably just off getting me another surprise. I just hope we don't both have a surprise coming in about nine months."

She felt her face work itself into a mass of worry wrinkles and took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. There was no sense in borrowing trouble, just as it was ridiculous to worry about David simply because he had some mysterious meeting. Just as she hadn't expected to fall in love with him so quickly, she hadn't prepared herself to obtain anything necessary to prevent a pregnancy. Fortunately, when they'd both realized what they done-several times-they agreed to obtain protection immediately. Thankfully, David had told her that he couldn't wait until they had children, though he knew it would be prudent to wait a while first.

"But, if you have conceived," he'd told her, "think of the purity of love that would bring that child into the world. He'd be the most blessed baby in the world. And you can't beat that."

How many other men would have been so loving, so caring? How many other men wouldn't have stewed over it or accused the woman of trying to trap them? Instead, David had just shrugged it off and suggested that they should marry as soon as they could because he was so excited about starting their life together.

The shrill buzz of the intercom shattered the images of David she'd formed in her mind: blonde hair tousled, lips swollen, sheen of sweat from their intensive lovemaking shining on his brow. She turned back to her desk and depressed the button on the machine.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Hilary Lang on line one," her secretary's voice came through the speaker.

"Thanks. I've got it." Marilyn picked up the receiver and pressed the button on her telephone. "Hilary? It's Marilyn."

"Marilyn, I'm not so sure you and David should join us for lunch at the club after all. It's getting really wicked outside. In fact, David's father and I were thinking that it would probably be a good idea to just send everyone home before this storm becomes much worse."

"I think that would be a good idea. Where are you and Dave?"

"We're at the house. Marie has enough food in the freezer to feed an army. So, why don't you and David just come home? Might be a pleasant afternoon to just sit around by the fire and get acquainted," Hilary said. "As you can probably imagine, Dave and I want to know everything about you."

Marilyn laughed. She could imagine that she'd be in for the same kind of grilling that her parents planned on giving David. "That sounds delightful. But, David isn't here. He had some appointment away from the office. He didn't say where."

"Oh-"

The muffled sound on the telephone indicated that Hilary had placed her hand over the receiver. She was probably conferring with Dave.

"Marilyn, Dave's going to try to call David on his cellular. Hold on a moment, dear," Hilary said, after a moment.

Waiting patiently, Marilyn pressed the button on the intercom. Leaning over, she spoke briefly with her secretary, asking that she spread the word that the office would be closing immediately to allow everyone to go home because of the storm. She was just finishing when she heard Hilary call to her through the telephone.

"Marilyn, Dave only gets David's voice mail. That's very unusual."

"Well, this meeting must be pretty important. He probably just doesn't want to be disturbed during it."

"Dear, how are you going to get home? You went to work with David, didn't you?"

Marilyn though for a moment, sliding down into her chair and drumming her fingernails against the white blotter. Inspiration struck. "Hilary, I know that Daryl is still here and he drives one of those huge, four-wheel drive things. How about if I ask him to give me a lift? Think we can stretch Marie's lunch to feed a hungry Texan?"

"Believe me, Marie's worked for us for years. I've never yet seen her fail," Hilary laughed softly. "Just tell Daryl that he's staying here until this blows over. There's plenty of room and a lot better place than his bachelor's pad."

"Good idea. And while we're getting there, why don't you keep trying David? Make sure to tell him that I've sent everyone home so there's no sense in his coming back here."

"Right. Okay, dear, go find that Texan."

The roads were treacherous. Marilyn continually glanced over at a tight-lipped Daryl as he drove slowly, his knuckles whitening as he clutched the steering wheel. Even just creeping along the icy roads, Daryl repeatedly had to fight the large vehicle to keep it from fishtailing down the roads.

It was only when she saw the tall granite pillars guarding the driveway to the Lang mansion that Marilyn began to relax. She turned her prayers to hoping that David was already safe and warm beside the fireplace inside.

As Daryl braked to a slow stop in the circular driveway, he let out a long sigh. "Houston, the Eagle has landed. And it ain't going a foot farther until I see blue skies and dry land."

"I really appreciate this, Daryl," Marilyn said, buttoning her coat as she pushed open the door.

"Just you wait until I get around there. No way are we going to meet that new deadline if you're laid up with a broken leg," Daryl ordered, swinging out of the door. She watched him skate around the front of the vehicle and slide to a stop at her door. She slipped out slowly and felt him put his arm around her. "If I go, you go, Darlin'. And vicey versey."

Slowly they stepped toward the house; relieved when finally they reached the door, which opened immediately.

Dave looked solemnly at both of them. Marilyn noticed, with concern, that his face was heavily lined with worry with an almost gray tone beneath his tanned complexion.

"David?" she asked, before she even took a step into the house.

"No word. I've just about been ringing that cellular to pieces. He must have left it in his car, wherever he went." Dave took her arm and pulled her into the house, before looking up at Daryl. "Not the best drive I'll bet you've ever taken. Thanks for bringing Marilyn home. Hillary's got hot coffee and sandwiches waiting in the kitchen. I imagine you both could use some warming up."

As if she could even think about eating. Where was he? And why didn't he have the cellular with him? She'd once teased him about how it could probably only be removed from his body surgically. Of course, then he'd shown her just how easy it was to toss aside when he had something a bit more enjoyable in mind than business.

Still it wouldn't do Dave or Hilary any good if she went to pieces worrying over him. They didn't need any more anxieties at the moment.

"That sounds great. I'm just going to freshen up a bit, maybe change clothes and I'll be right there." Marilyn laid a hand on Dave's arm and smiled up at him. "David is perfectly safe wherever he is. He'll be in contact as soon as he can."

A sweatshirt and jeans felt heavenly, Marilyn decided, after she'd changed out of her business suit. She pulled a brush through her long hair and caught it up in a ponytail, securing it in place with a band.

Hurrying down the stairs, she glanced at the beautiful portraits of all of David's ancestors. Generation upon generation smiled down at her. One day, she knew, she'd grace the wall with David at her side, and maybe even a child or two.

Marilyn paused in the hallway, glancing at the telephone resting on a small table next to the door to the drawing room. Dave hadn't had any luck reaching David, but maybe fortune would smile on her. She lifted the receiver and quickly punched in the number to David's cellular. It rang…and rang…and just as she expected the automated voice to come on the line and ask her to leave a message, someone answered.

"H-h-hello?"

"David? David is that you? Honey, we've been so worried-"

"Ma'am, may I ask who I'm speaking with?"

"This isn't David, is it?"

"No, ma'am. I need to speak with someone who's related to Mr. Lang."

"I'm his fiancée. What's happened to David?" Marilyn fought to control the panic she knew was reaching her voice from the hollow pit in her center.

"There's been an accident. Mr. Lang has been injured and transported to Sherry Hospital. The hospital has been attempting to reach his family. Can you tell me how to get in contact with them?"

"His parents are here. How badly is he hurt?" Please God, minor injuries. Please God, a broken nose or a sprained ankle or…

"I'm afraid it's pretty serious, ma'am. But his passenger came out okay. They've transported her, but just as a precaution."

"Passenger? Someone was with him?"

"Yes, a Miss Cheryl Rogers. Ma'am, can you call one of his parents to the telephone? We're going to arrange for a patrol car to come and get them and take them to the hospital. They…ummm…they may have to make some decisions, ma'am. Could I speak with them?"

Marilyn staggered against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor, the telephone dangling limply in her hand. A vision of the last company picnic in Dallas the previous July formed in her mind. David was there, accompanied by a beautiful blonde that simply exuded vitality and energy. It was obvious to anyone observing them that she was more than just attracted to David, as she hung on him as if she were a third appendage.

Surely not…not here. Surely if there was something still between them, David would have told her. He would have explained. He wouldn't have…

"Marilyn, what's wrong?"

She looked up, seeing Dave through the veil of tears filling her eyes.

"David's hurt." She shook the telephone receiver at him. "He's hurt. He's hurt badly."

Just as Dave reached for the telephone, Marilyn clutched it to her breast.

"Dave, do you know why David would have been with Cheryl Bridges?"

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