Ghosts That Haunt

by Adderlygirl

AU / Sequel to Forging a Life. Casey is assigned a foreign female operative to pose as his girlfriend.

13. Chapter 13

Ghosts that Haunt—13

Riah kept running her hands over him. He tried to stay awake, but it felt good to be in his own bed, especially since she was in it with him, and she'd worn him out after he took her upstairs to bed. She fingered a small scar on his shoulder, a puncture wound he'd picked up in Iraq when he'd been shoved against a protruding piece of steel during an altercation. Riah didn't need to know the exact circumstances because she would only worry.

She ran light fingers along the more serious injury. He'd received the four-inch scar near his hipbone in a knife fight with a Taliban fighter. It had been deep and ugly, and it had become infected before it healed. He did tell her how he got it, but he didn't elaborate. He felt her move, slide down his side, and then he felt her lips against it. If he hadn't been on the edge of sleep, he probably would have made a crack about wishing she'd been there to kiss it better when it happened. He sucked in a ragged breath when her lips were followed by the wet warmth of her tongue. She smiled against his skin and her mouth began a lazy migration. Casey pulled her back up before she could drift any further southwest, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. "Tired," he grumbled, "but hold that thought," and slipped off to sleep.

He heard music, something he didn't recognize, so he frowned, tried to figure out where it came from. Riah started to push away from him, but he reflexively tightened his arms. He realized it was her cellphone and mumbled, "Don't answer."

"It's Emma," she said, and he loosened his grip to let her roll enough to pick the phone up from the bedside table behind her. He owed her sister, he thought, and shifted a little as Riah lay on her side facing him and said hello. The sheet slipped. He came more awake, and her bare breast looked inviting.

"Mum cooks fine," he heard her say as he rolled over and opened his mouth over her nipple. Riah sucked in a ragged breath.

"What was that sound?" he heard Emma ask suspiciously.

Casey smiled against her breast. "Nothing," Riah gasped. He licked and then began kissing his way down the slope of her breast and up her sternum. He worked his way to the join of her shoulder and neck, and Riah's eyes drifted closed as she tilted her head to give him greater access. Emma said something about Riah being alone for Christmas, and he flashed Riah a grin before he started kissing his way slowly up her neck. Emma, he suspected, was fishing to see if he'd actually shown up. Riah hissed softly before she told her sister, "I'm fine, Emma."

He rolled them so that she was on her back while he lay over her, supported his weight on his elbows as he kissed along the underside of her jaw. He worked his way toward Riah's mouth. He heard Emma say, "Mariah, is someone there with you?"

Knowing he wouldn't have Riah's full attention until the call was over, he took the phone and said, "Merry Christmas, Emma."

There was a split second of silence, before Riah's sister asked incredulously, "Casey?" She shouldn't have been so surprised, he reflected, since he had talked to her the day before to see if Riah was still in Los Angeles or had gone home. She'd known he intended to visit her sister—or at least she should have.

"Your sister is busy," he replied, looking down at Riah. Her skin was slightly flushed, and she had that look she got when he loved her, heavy-lidded, hungry. He was hungry himself. "Can she call you back later?" He didn't wait for her to reply before he hung up and took Riah's mouth. It rang again, a different song this time, and he warned her, his mouth still on hers, "Don't answer it."

Riah let him go long enough to turn the phone off before she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Around noon, Casey tried to convince her not to get out of bed, but when that failed, when she insisted she had to go help Ellie with dinner, he followed her into the shower. He tried to persuade her physically, but she gave him a look he recognized. Faced with her stubborn determination, he backed down. As he soaped her, he asked, "Do you think Ellie will invite me to dinner?"

Riah turned to face him, and her soap-slick skin slid along his as she leaned into him and murmured, "If she doesn't, we'll come home, and I'll find us something to eat."

"Call her and tell her your plans changed," he countered against her mouth. Ellie wouldn't begrudge them the time together, he knew, and he was certain her brother had already told her Casey was home.

Riah looked up at him. "I promised." That look she gave him held another kind of promise, and he decided not to protest further, especially when she raised a brow and planted her mouth over his heart and began working lower. Appeasement, he thought fondly, was her favorite word when one of them disappointed the other, and damn, he was really going to have to find a way to thank her aunt for that sex book, he decided just before his brain washed out his ears and down the drain.

Casey went downstairs to get his bags while she brushed her teeth and dried her hair. He took his turn while she dressed, and when he entered their bedroom wearing the trousers to his suit and a clean shirt, she wore a pair of tailored trousers of her own that were the same color as the tobacco in a Costa Gravan Double Corona and a tailored white shirt. He looked at the sharply pointed toes of her brown suede boots and wondered if they were supposed to be weapons. She gave him an amused grin and turned to root through her jewelry box.

One down, he thought as he turned and rummaged in his smaller bag for the package with the earrings and pendant before he crossed to stand behind her and stop her. He turned her to face him and had a moment's misgiving. She claimed she didn't like diamonds, so perhaps he shouldn't offer them to her after all.

Riah frowned at him as he stood there, the package at his side. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I bought you these in Antwerp about a month and a half ago," he said and could feel a dull flush run up his face. Puzzled, Mariah looked at him, and he handed her the flat, rectangular box. The bow was crushed and misshapen, and the gold foil paper covering the corners of the package had worn a little thin from having been in his bags and dragged from place to place for the better part of two months.

For a moment, he regretted giving it to her when her face went crimson, and she looked upset. "I didn't—"

When he realized she was embarrassed because she had nothing to give him in return, he felt relieved. "I never expected a gift from you. If it helps, I didn't buy this as a Christmas present." He looked down at her hands. "Go ahead. Open it."

He was pretty sure she recognized it as a jewelry box. That didn't stop her from turning the package over and examining it, though. "You shouldn't have."

Casey started to get a little pissed off by her apparent reluctance to accept it. "I wanted to," he told her, a little more gruffly than he probably should have from her slight flinch.

Her fingers shook as she started to pick one end of the package open. There was a moment when Casey thought about her taunt about his lack of patience opening presents. It occurred to him that she had too much patience as he watched her slowly draw the box from inside the paper. He took the paper from her, crumpled it in his hand. When she lifted the lid, he took the outer box from her as well, and he watched as she slowly lifted the hinged lid on the black leather box inside to stare at the contents. She shot him a look he couldn't quite read, and he was irritated when he felt it necessary to explain, "I know what you said, but I thought—"

"They're beautiful," she breathed as she touched one of the earrings with her index finger, and then she reached up for him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. He kissed her back, glad she didn't repeat what she had said in Banff. She put the box down and loosened the earrings from their slots and threaded them into her earlobes. When she lifted the pendant, Casey took it and fastened it around her neck. She held her hair out of the way, and when he had the catch safely closed, he kissed her nape and then the spot beneath her ear. She touched the pendant and then turned around, put her arms around him and kissed him again. "Thank you," she whispered, "but you really shouldn't have."

"Just shut up and wear them," he growled against her mouth, pleased she had liked them after all.

Riah's hand crept into his as they walked across the courtyard to the Bartowskis' apartment. Ellie gave him a warm welcome—which meant she squealed when she saw him and then hugged him tightly. Since he was happy to be home with Riah—despite not having been able to convince her to stay in bed instead of dressing and crossing the courtyard—he didn't protest or make a face when Ellie squeezed the life out of him. When Woodcomb approached him, he quickly thrust his hand out to avoid a man hug, and he caught Riah's amused expression as Ellie's fiancé pumped his hand.

Grimes asked, "Aren't you supposed to be in uniform?"

For Ellie's sake, Casey restricted himself to a heated glare. "I'm on leave," he growled.

Riah followed Ellie into the kitchen, and Casey found himself trapped in the living room with Woodcomb, Grimes, and Bartowski. He told himself he could put up with it for one afternoon and evening, that Riah wouldn't be happy if he killed one of them, and Beckman wouldn't let him kill Bartowski—at least not yet, not while he was useful. He spoke when spoken to, but he didn't initiate conversation. Most of the questions he was asked about Afghanistan he was surprised to realize he could answer without jeopardizing national security, so he did so.

Eventually, Grimes asked, "So what's your rank anyway?" He could tell the weasel expected him to be some sort of enlisted man or non-com, so Casey took pleasure in saying, "Major." Grimes choked on his beer. Casey ignored the manchild's follow up questions about what he had been doing there and wished he'd followed Riah over later.

When Walker finally turned up midafternoon, it was obvious to Casey that she wasn't surprised to see him. He figured Bartowski had let her know he was home, had probably called her the second he left Riah and Casey alone in their apartment early that morning. A while later, he said quietly in Chuck's ear, "Take Walker into your room. We need to talk."

He gave his partner and Bartowski a few minutes before he followed them. As he softly closed the door, he gave the CIA officer a nod and said, "Walker. Catch me up."

She did, considerably more efficiently than Bartowski would have done. It occurred to him that he should have been able to ask Riah, and then it dawned on him that she seemed curiously absent from Walker's rundown. Beckman must have decided to cut the Canadians out of the picture, which had probably infuriated Riah's father. Although, he supposed, Riah's miscarriage, her time back in Canada, and her shooting could account for her exclusion from Intersect missions.

After Walker finished, he said, "Tell me about the new guy." Riah had said she didn't like him, and certainly she had had good reasons based on what she told him while she was heavily sedated, but she had never given him a name. Casey wanted to know if whoever the little weasel was had trespassed. After all, Riah told him the man had hit on her, and Casey just might have to consider hitting him right back—in a very painful kind of way.

Bartowski and Walker gave each other one of those stares that meant something in nonverbal cover-relationship speak while Casey waited impatiently for one of them to answer his question. The longer he waited, the more certain he was the answer was going to make him feel like doing more than hitting something—or someone. "Robert Kavanaugh," Walker finally said.

Casey killed the instinctive groan. He knew the little bastard. Kavanaugh was one of those all-American spies, handsome, blond, blue-eyed, charming—provided one considered smarmy, insincere flattery and what some women apparently thought was a winning smile charming. He was also a fuck-up. Kavanaugh was well-trained, generally got things done, but he made trouble on the job. He couldn't stay focused on the goal, especially not with an attractive woman around. There had been at least two harassment inquiries where he was concerned, though rumor had it that number should have been considerably higher. Apparently, only two women had had the guts to try and officially do something about the jackass. Casey was dead certain that if Kavanaugh had made Walker rather than Riah his target it would be three—assuming Walker didn't just make him the victim of friendly fire.

"You know, Casey," Walker said, folded her arms over her stomach and got that hard look she normally aimed at her next target, "you're not a part of this anymore."

That stung. It was true, but it still smarted, and he resented the implication in that look—that he had run out on them. Casey was right back to being the fat kid. "I plan to be as soon as I finish the next little gig for Beckman," he said. He gave her a meaningful look of his own. "Unless you'd prefer to keep Kavanaugh?"

Walker's mouth compressed in distaste, but it was Bartowski who said, "No! No, Casey. We want you back. The old team, you know?"

They left Chuck's room, Casey in front. He saw Kavanaugh make a beeline for Riah in the kitchen. The other man trapped her where the counters met on the far end near the stove. Casey watched Riah try unsuccessfully to evade being cornered and tightened his jaw at her obvious panic. Ellie had tried to intercept Kavanaugh, but the other man had closed in on his target and managed to get past the female Bartowski. Casey's fist folded in on itself as he stalked toward them. He couldn't punch the bastard, not in front of Ellie and especially not in her kitchen, but he desperately wanted to.

As he reached the archway, Ellie grabbed him and pulled him inside the confined space. "John, this is our neighbor, Tom Baker. Tom, this is John Casey, Mariah's boyfriend. He's home on leave."

Casey stepped forward and took Riah gently by the arm. He gave Kavanaugh a hard enough glare the other man stepped aside so Casey could draw Riah to his side. He kept his eyes locked on the other man while he wrapped an arm around Riah's waist and said, "Baker," as blandly as he could, though he made sure he layered a hint of menace underneath so the little prick knew that while Casey would make nice for Ellie's sake, he wasn't going to let him near Riah, who leaned into Casey and relaxed a bit.

Kavanaugh eyed them. "Casey." The jackass's face took on a knowing smirk, and Casey really hoped the weasel gave him an excuse to pound him to a pulp. He would have to wait out dinner because Ellie would never forgive him for half killing a man in her kitchen. "It's nice to finally meet the man Mariah claims could kill me with a thumb."

He couldn't help the snort. Casey could just imagine Riah threatening the other man with him, and he squeezed her waist. "For Riah to have said that, you must have been doing something you shouldn't."

"I was just talking to her," Kavanaugh said.

I'll bet, Casey thought and set his jaw. He planned to troll through some surveillance before he left, see exactly what the little pissant had been up to.

"She's a loyal little lady."

His eyes narrowed, suspicious of Kavanaugh's bland compliment. He couldn't explain it except for his innate dislike and distrust of the man. He suspected it was a ploy on the other man's part, but if his intent was to sow distrust where Riah was concerned, it wouldn't work. She had given Casey no real reason to lose faith in her. "Yes, she is," he said softly.

Kavanaugh's next words proved he shouldn't have trusted the man to play nicely, not even for Ellie's sake. "Well, Mariah," the little bastard said with a look that quickly slid to smirking juvenile, "I suppose you'll be pregnant again soon."

Riah went rigid, and Casey tightened his grip on her. He was going to kill Kavanaugh for doing this to her. He'd dismember him alive for that remark, especially since the other man had unerringly gone for what had to be one of Riah's deepest wounds, not to mention his. It was a private matter, and Kavanaugh had just dragged it into the open—and done so before Casey and Riah had had a chance to talk about it.

He was momentarily distracted from homicidal thoughts by Ellie dropping the bread basket. She had obviously only heard the one word. Her brown eyes were wide. "Pregnant?" she squeaked. She looked at Riah. "You're . . . ." Her shocked gaze went from Riah to Casey and back again, and Casey dreaded having to tell her the truth. They would have to tell her the truth because Riah was clearly not five or more months pregnant, and he was certain Bartowski's sister knew exactly how long he had been gone. Ellie went pale, had clearly figured that out.

Casey wondered how Kavanaugh had known Riah had been pregnant. He knew Beckman knew, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't have told the idiot wearing the superior look standing in front of him. From the awkward, stifling silence, he was pretty sure Riah had told no one about the baby.

Then it hit him: the apartment surveillance was still in place, and Kavanaugh had been watching. His eyes narrowed on the younger man, who suddenly realized his own danger. Casey suspected the weasel had seen more than he should, had been watching Riah, and if he'd expanded the coverage in their apartment to see her more private moments, he'd end the little bastard and Beckman wouldn't find so much as a single cell to test for DNA.

"Oh," Ellie said quietly. "Oh." There was a lull in conversation in the living room, and all Casey needed was for the male Bartowski to start in. Ellie, though, recovered and said, "If you two," and she pointed at him and Kavanaugh, "would get out of here, Mariah and I could finish dinner." She bustled Kavanaugh out and followed him, gave Casey a sympathetic look and lightly touched his arm as she passed.

Riah's face was tight and pale, and he swallowed thickly as he looked at the pain etched there. "John—" she started softly.

Casey leaned down and kissed her, stopped the words that were no one else's business. He didn't want to have this discussion where others could hear. This should be between just the two of them. "Later, Riah, when we're alone." He pulled her a little closer, tried to reassure her he wasn't angry, at least not with her and not about Kavanaugh's cruel little jab. Well, he was angry about Kavanaugh and the other man having made something so personal public, but it wasn't the time or the place.

When Ellie re-entered the kitchen, he kissed Riah once more and then released her and walked out to the living room. He'd run the gauntlet there if he had to.

Two things were immediately clear when he walked into the living room: Bartowski, at least, had known, and the others had overheard Kavanaugh's remark. He lifted his chin, narrowed his eyes, and silently dared someone to say something. Woodcomb quickly started a conversation with Anna Wu that soon drew the others in. Bartowski, though, moved next to Casey and said very softly, "She didn't want to tell anyone until she could tell you."

"Then how did you find out?" he asked bitterly, though Chuck's words provided a little comfort.

"She was really sick. I just—I found out by accident." Bartowski put a hand on Casey's shoulder, and for once he didn't growl at the younger man. "She was scared, Casey."

"Change the subject, Chuck," he ground out softly.

Grimes said something to Bartowski then, and the younger man walked over and joined the conversation. When Casey looked over to the kitchen, neither Riah nor Ellie was in sight, which concerned him. He was about to go looking for them, worried about Riah, when he heard a door open and heard Ellie's voice. Both women looked like they had been crying, and Casey set his jaw.

He endured more chatter from the assembled morons until Ellie called them all to the table. He was relieved to be seated between Riah and Ellie and opposite the corner where Ellie had squeezed in Kavanaugh. The other man liked to poke wounded animals, and if he dared taunt Riah, Casey would drag him out and finish him.

As dinner progressed, Casey watched Riah. She wasn't eating much, and he'd long ago learned that usually meant she was upset, though her face didn't show it. He wasn't very hungry himself, but he dutifully ate. He almost missed it because Walker said something to him, but an odd flicker of emotion crossed Riah's face. He slid his hand into her lap and grasped hers as he answered Walker. He turned to Riah when he finished, and she smiled at him, really smiled at him. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her. Riah kissed him back, and the sound of Bartowski and Morgan Grimes choking reminded him they were not alone.

"Get a room," Grimes groaned, and Riah actually laughed.

Ellie looked appalled, but Riah said, "He's told us that before." Casey grinned, remembered the night he'd kissed her in the courtyard after they had dealt with Baines. It was the first time he'd kissed her without it being explicitly for the cover.

"No one expects to see porn practically on the front doorstep," Grimes explained, his voice tinged with disgust.

"If you weren't such a little pervert," Casey told him with only a hint of his usual, quiet menace, "you'd know it's normal for people in love to kiss one another."

"Yeah, but late at night in front of God, me and anybody who happens by, especially coupled with what was obviously an attempt to get Mariah naked, is a little more than anyone ought to have to see in a public space."

Bartowski looked at them with raised eyebrows and an expression that straddled the line between fascination and horror.

Kavanaugh said then, "I would have thought, Morgan, you'd be all for the getting Mariah naked part."

"Yeah, maybe," Grimes said defensively, "if it didn't involve Mariah trying to get Casey naked, too."

Anna gave Morgan a glare that should have set his beard on fire and bit out, "Some of us would prefer seeing Casey naked."

Casey's lips twitched, and Riah gave his hand a warning squeeze. It was Bartowski, though, who said, "I would really, really, like to not talk about people sitting at this table being naked right now."

Woodcomb raised his brows and said, "Right you are, bro," and he turned to Casey and asked, "You and Mariah have plans for your leave?"

He raised his own brows and was unable to resist needling Bartowski a little. "You mean other than repeatedly getting Riah naked?" Chuck spluttered and Riah snorted. Walker was trying to hide a grin, and even Ellie seemed to have given up on the idea of a normal dinner conversation. Grimes seemed to be actively trying to imagine that, and Kavanaugh looked both very interested in what Casey had to say and as if he were calculating odds on whether he could say something seemingly innocent that was actually vicious. Anna just glared at Morgan's slack-jawed look. Woodcomb looked a little taken aback. Casey lifted his fork and said, "No, we don't have any plans exactly."

Riah leaned around him and asked Ellie, "Did you and Honey finally sort out what flowers to use for the wedding?"

Ellie grasped the subject happily and launched into an explanation. Casey leaned in when Walker picked up the theme and said quietly, "You're diabolical." Riah rewarded him with a grin. Every other man around the table devoted himself to food in the face of wedding talk.

When dinner was over, Casey offered to help clear the table, but Ellie shooed him away with everyone else. He took a corner of the couch and sat angled so he could watch Riah come and go as she helped Ellie. When the two women joined the rest of them, Casey took Riah's hand and drew her down into his lap, which was about the only seating space left. He wrapped an arm around Riah's waist, and one of hers slid across his shoulders.

It was odd. Normally he would be calculating how quickly he could get them out of there, but this time he had an unusual desire to linger. Maybe it was because he could have been with his mother and sisters, their husbands and children, or maybe it was because it delayed the inevitable conversation he and Riah needed to have. Maybe it was simply that he had come to genuinely like some of the people gathered in the Bartowskis' living room, but whatever it was, he was content to hold Riah on his lap and listen to the conversation around them.

"So, John," Ellie said, leaning into Woodcomb, "how long is your leave?"

"Two days," he said. Ellie made a face.

"I'm surprised you bothered to come at all for that," Kavanaugh said.

Seated in his lap, Riah was nearly on eye-level with him. Content to play the role, he looked into her face and felt a faint smile cross his own. "I had something worth coming home for, no matter how little time there is."

Riah returned his smile and wound her arms around him and kissed him. Casey was more than happy to slide his arms around her and return the kiss, audience or not.

After their lips parted, with no juvenile comments from Grimes this time, Ellie said, "I saw Mariah's new earrings and necklace, John. I don't suppose there's another diamond for her?"

Casey was not about to answer that question, not until he and Riah had a chance to talk. He had come home to ask her to marry him, but they had a lot more to discuss before he could get to that. Even if they didn't, he wasn't about to essentially admit that was the plan with an avid audience watching. Riah looked embarrassed, but Casey wasn't in the least. He wasn't ashamed of what he felt for her, but he wasn't ready to publicly declare his intentions, either. That was for Riah and Riah alone.

He owed Bartowski for asking his sister if there was any pie left, and Ellie was successfully distracted from her own question then because three of the remaining four men in the room followed her into the kitchen. Casey stayed where he was, holding Riah, which, he had to admit, was a pretty good place to be. Bed would be better, but this was perfectly fine.

When Anna and Morgan left about half an hour later, he let Riah slide out of his lap onto the couch beside him. She leaned against him, and he put an arm across her shoulders. Kavanaugh was the next casualty, which left them with the people Casey actually liked—if he didn't count Woodcomb who simply made him twitchy. Riah looked up at him, and he decided it was time to take her home. He stood and took Riah's hands to help her to her feet. Ellie, for once, didn't protest, instead she hugged both of them and let them go. Once they were outside, he took Riah's hand and led her to their apartment.

Riah moved slowly, and he shortened his strides for her. He looked down at her pinched face and wondered if she was afraid of him. She had never been so before, so he decided she was simply afraid of the conversation ahead of them. He thought about that as he locked the door and set the alarm. Maybe he should rethink the order of his agenda. He took her hand again and led her upstairs to their room.

After Casey tugged her into their bedroom, he took Riah by her shoulders and turned her to face him. "John—" she began, but he used his mouth to stop whatever she had been about to say.

"Wait," he whispered. He had thought long and hard about how he would do this, but her miserable expression convinced him that waiting to make it just right was less important than letting her know how he felt. He ducked down and looked her in the eyes, silently begged her to trust him.

Casey put his hands on her waist and then knelt in front of her. He'd once sworn he would never bend his knee to anyone, but he pushed that thought out as he reminded himself that this wasn't the romantic proposal he had intended, so a little bit of tradition wouldn't kill him—his knees, maybe, but not him.

For a moment, he recognized that this was the second time in his life he'd done this, and for the second time, his plans fell through—this time by choice, at least. He felt Riah tremble, and her hands shook as she rested them on his shoulders. He pushed Kathleen and what had never been back behind the tightly sealed door he'd built and breathed deeply in.

Casey's mouth went dry when he looked up at Riah. She looked scared, but there was something else there, too, lurking in eyes gone dark blue: anticipation. That look of frightened hope made it easier to begin. "This isn't exactly where I intended to do this or when," he admitted, "but I think this might be a good time."

Riah's voice shook when she said his name. He stopped the rest of what she might have to say by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her firmly against him. He tilted his head back and looked up at her. He'd had a fancy speech prepared, but it went entirely out of his head as he stared into her guarded eyes. Because the occasion seemed to call for a bit more formality, he used her full name. "Mariah, hear me out," he said before plunging right in. "I had leave once before, but I didn't know what to say to you, so I stayed where I was."

He paused, thought this wasn't the way to tell a woman he loved her, but he needed her to understand that he was an idiot who had taken a while to figure things out, so he plunged on. "I went in a pub one night, and there was this woman. She was as different from you as it's possible to be, and—" he paused once more, watched her go pale, watched her face tighten and then flush, and thought this was definitely not the way to tell her he wanted to marry her. Based on her increasingly angry expression, she would turn him down flat. He was in this far, though, so he carried on with his explanation. "I realized that night, sitting there on that bar stool, what I wanted. What I wanted, Riah, was you. As she tried to pick me up, all I could think was how much I love you."

It was obvious she struggled to take it in, to figure out what he was trying to tell her, but at least she didn't look pissed off anymore. He had told her the night before he loved her, and he suddenly remembered she hadn't returned the sentiment. He was again afraid she only wanted him as a lover and not a husband. He looked up at her and decided he might as well find out. "Mariah, will you marry me?"

Casey had a surreal moment when he thought his heart was going to stop. Riah looked ill, looked like she was going to faint, and he just knew he was about to be rejected. He'd take his things and go back to his house in Maryland until he had to leave for Gaza. He would tell Beckman to send her back home to Canada. He'd take the worst assignments the General could find for him, and he'd hope like hell he could eventually get over her. He'd survived Kathleen, survived Ilsa, but he wasn't completely sure he'd survive a third loss. And then he saw her lips move. He thought his hearing was gone, but then she cupped his face in her hands and said it again, her voice strangled and barely audible: "Yes."

He pulled her mouth down to his. All his relief went into that kiss. Even better, she was kissing him back, and in that moment, he thought he could die happy. His mouth released hers, but before he could tell her to wait, she took his again.

When they came up for air, he remembered what else he needed to do, so he took his arms from around her and fished in his jacket pocket for her ring. He had taken it out of its box earlier and dropped it in his pocket thinking he'd take her somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted when they left the Bartowskis'. "If you don't like it, I'll buy you something different," he promised as he lifted her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. He pressed his mouth to her palm, and she lifted her hand to look at it.

She laughed, and he enjoyed the smoldering kiss she gave him before she said, "At the risk of being branded a hypocrite, I'll keep this one."

He climbed slowly from his knees and pulled her against him. Riah wrapped her arms around his waist and tilted her face up to his. "I love you, John."

Casey hadn't realized how very much he really wanted to hear her say that until then. "Finally," he murmured and kissed her. All thoughts of talk left him, and he set about showing her how he felt. He opened the buttons of her blouse and slid the silk slowly from her. She put her hands inside his jacket and followed it off his shoulders with her hands. He toed his shoes off, and then knelt and removed her boots, sliding her pant legs up and the zippers down before lifting her feet and taking them off. She pulled his face up and traced her fingers over his cheeks before she lowered her mouth to his again.

His fingers undid her belt and the fasteners of her trousers. He was sliding the fabric down over her hips and thighs as her fingers started on his shirt buttons. His mouth was against her belly, and he felt her fingers slide into his hair and hold him against her. Perhaps they should talk before they did this, he thought, but she lifted his face again and slid down so she knelt in front of him, too. "Love me, John," she whispered. "Right now, just love me."

He stripped the trousers off her, and she had his shirt off and was working on his pants. His fingers found the front opening of her bra and had just popped it, his mouth closing over her nipple when he heard a phone ring. "Don't answer it," he said against her breast.

"Not mine," she panted.

Casey frowned at her and then recognized the sound of his own phone. He scrabbled on the floor for his jacket and fished it out. If it was Beckman, he might just quit on the spot. Instead, the display on the front showed his mother's number.

"Mother." He hoped he sounded normal, but then Riah smiled and he wondered what she found amusing in this situation. He had the woman he loved, the woman who miraculously loved him, nearly naked, and receiving a call from his mother was a definite mood killer.

"Johnny?"

His mother always had to confirm his identity, he thought. He would have thought that after nearly three decades of phone calls she would know his voice, especially when she had called him. "Yes," he said, watching Riah's face.

"I had hoped to hear I'll finally have a daughter-in-law by now," she said tersely.

He looked at Riah, looked at her there in front of him wearing nothing but her panties and the diamonds he had given her, and he smiled. "She said yes," he told his mother, and Riah grinned back at him.

His mother had never been the kind of woman who squealed or shouted or showed emotion when she was happy or excited. As a result, when they were young, he and his sisters had often wondered whether or not she was truly pleased about their accomplishments. "I'm pleased to hear you haven't proposed to a stupid woman," she said, and he heard a note of amusement in her voice. "I wondered if you'd like to come home when you return."

"If I can," he agreed. He suspected he knew what was coming next.

"I don't suppose you intend to bring your Riah back with you?"

That, he knew would depend on what Beckman had to say when he told her what he intended. "I'll bring her with me if I can." Riah cocked her head, frowned at him. He stood and pulled her to her feet as well before he wrapped his free arm around her.

"Merry Christmas, John."

"Merry Christmas, Mom." He shut the phone off and kissed Riah.

It was surprisingly easy to pick back up where they had left off before his mother called. They still had things to talk about, but for now he intended to give Riah what she had asked for and just love her. He did, very thoroughly, and afterward, he held her in the moonlight from the windows above the bed and decided miracles really did happen. He kissed the top of Riah's head and hoped he never needed another where she was concerned.