Fatal Series 00 - Fatal Destiny

screw anything up? Forget something? Ever act like a normal person who occasionally drops one of the seventy-five thousand balls he has in the air at one time?”
    Smiling, he said, “Once in a while.”
    “Will you let me know the next time it happens? I’d really like to savor the moment.”
    “You got it.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and took her coat, hanging it as he always did in the front closet. Sam would’ve tossed it over the sofa. Why hang it up when she’d just need it again in the morning?
    “How was the fitting?” he asked.
    “It was great, and the best part? It was the last one.”
    He chuckled. “How’s it looking?”
    Sam made a face and shrugged. “Eh. You know. A dress is a dress.”
    “Are you trying to lower my expectations?”
    “I’d really hate for you to be disappointed.”
    With his fingers on her chin he tilted her face to meet his intense gaze. “You could wear a burlap sack, and I wouldn’t be disappointed—as long as you’re in it, and as long as I get to take it off you afterward.” He punctuated the statement with a sweet kiss.
    Whenever he looked at her in that particular way, she positively melted. “Now you tell me! You couldn’t have saved me all those damned fittings by telling me that six weeks ago!”
    That smile of his… Whoa , so potent.
    “Are you hungry?” he asked.
    “Starved. What’s for dinner?”
    “Roast chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables.”
    “When did you have time to roast a chicken?”
    “The grocery store did the roasting. I just bought it and brought it home.”
    “Which is the most important part of the equation. Smells great.”
    He led her to the dining room, held her chair and poured her a glass of wine.
    Sam couldn’t remember the last time one of them had cooked a meal at home. Lately they’d been grabbing meals here and there on the fly. There’d been none of the quality time she’d grown accustomed to since they’d been together.
    The meal he’d prepared was tasty and filling, and they lingered over the bottle of white wine.
    “Didn’t you have a campaign event tonight?”
    “I postponed it. Told them I felt the flu coming on.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I had more important things to do tonight.”
    “What things?”
    “Dinner with you, for one.”
    “Nick,” she said, touched by the gesture. “You’re in the middle of a campaign. You can’t be skipping important events.”
    “If one missed cocktail party costs me the election, then it was never mine to begin with.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, a gesture so uniquely his that it never failed to set her heart to racing. “I’ve missed you. Things have been so hectic that we’ve barely seen each other. I hate that.”
    “I’ve missed you too.” She linked their fingers. “It’s my fault.” Swallowing hard to fight back the swell of emotion that threatened to derail her, Sam forced herself to look at him, to face him. “I have this bad habit of retreating into myself after… You know.”
    “It’s not entirely your fault, babe. I buried myself in work so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.”
    “I hate that you’re hurting. And I hate that I couldn’t give you—”
    “Don’t. Please don’t say that.” He tugged on her hand and drew her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “You’ve given me so much, Samantha.” He released the clip that held her hair for work and let it rain down around them. “So, so much. More than I ever dreamed of having.”
    She rested her head on his shoulder, surrounded by the clean, fresh scent of him. “I know how much you want a family of your own.”
    “You’re the family I’ve never had. You’re far more than enough. I’ve told you that.”
    “Still…”
    “I’m worried about you, babe. I know it rocked you, and I should’ve been there for you rather than caught up in how it affected me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there the way I should’ve been.”
    Tears filled her eyes. Whatever had she done to deserve this kind, wonderful man? Hearing that he’d ditched an important campaign event to spend the evening with her filled Sam with guilt over what she’d kept from him, and she knew she had to level with him.
    “I did something today. Something I should’ve talked to you about before I did it.” The words were out before she could stop them—so much for her short-lived plan to wait until their honeymoon to talk to him about this.
    Under her, his