Phoenix

Chapter Four

The light filtering through a small gap in the curtains of the bedroom announced the arrival of a new dawn. Perry, seeing the beautiful, naked woman asleep and at peace on his chest, sighed in contentment and joy. He felt a calm reassurance that had been missing for years. It was a sense that he was very much where he belonged, that life was once again on kilter, and that he was orbiting the center of his universe again. He hadn't felt that way for a long, long time.

A sweet smile played along his lips. Looking down at Della, he allowed himself to dream of possibilities. A new beginning—not forsaking the past, but bursting into life from the darkness that had encompassed them for ages. For ages? For nine unbearable years. He dreamed, wished, prayed they could grab hold of that new start. From the ashes of despair, a life taking flight.

His smile deepened. Last night Della had taken him by surprise—asking him to stay with her. While it was true, they had never stopped being intimate, last night had been different. Not only was it a release of pent-up emotions, but a return home for both. In the years since the loss of their daughter neither had stayed at the other's residence after making love. But now . . . Here he was, underneath her, pillowing her, at her place, at her request. His spirits soared to heights he didn't know existed!

Gradually his thoughts moved on to his young client, the catalyst for the situation in which he now laid. Perry was sure Peggy would be reunited with her family soon. He felt grateful this beautiful little girl had knocked on theoffice door and had come into his and his wife's lives. Closing his eyes, he replayed the memory of seeing her for the first time. She had entered the private office clutching Della's hand so tightly, looking like the spitting image of that fine lady. And in her other arm, tucked securely near her heart, was a small doll. The living doll with the toy doll had given him back the woman he loved.

His eyes fluttered open again and he studied the sleeping form of his wife.

My wife! Oh, how he loved the sound of that phrase. My wife, my Girl Friday. My love, my heartbeat. My reason for breathing and being. Tears fell unbidden down his cheeks, but he did nothing to wipe them away. He loved this treasure with every atom of his body, every particle of his soul. To have loved her and temporarily lost her had hurt. Yes, the loss of their daughter was a grief that went on and on. But losing Della? To have her for snatches of time, only to be cut off from the life he so desperately wanted with her was to live the torture of the damned.

But last night . . .

Perry smiled at the memory of the night before. Della had really exhausted him. After that wonderful afternoon with Peggy, they had come back here. And last night they had given themselves to each other in every way. They had shared, not just conversation and a bottle of wine and a dinner, but shared secrets, dreams and hopes. They had shared their hurts and frustrations, talking and snuggling and kissing. But above all else, the deep love they professed for each other had been demonstrated here, in the marriage bed. Skin to skin, soul to soul, heart to heart.

A slight movement, accompanied by a resonant yawn, pulled the lawyer out of his thoughts.

"Umm . . ." Della groaned, stretching in her own catlike way. Her lashes released their grip on her hazel eyes, which were still glazed with sleep. "Good morning! What time is it?" When he didn't say anything, she peppered his chest with butterfly kisses.

"Hey, young lady, that tickles!" he teased, tickling her deliberately to make her squeal.

He loved her squeal. She wiggled her way to his shoulder, then leaned in to give him a nice, lingering kiss on the mouth. His smile started in his heart, spread to his eyes, and blossomed on his mouth. Then he kissed her tousled curls. "Good morning, my beautiful lady! If your clock is to be trusted, it's a little after ten."

Her head immediately jerked up from his shoulder. "In the morning! Perry! Perry Mason! How could you let me sleep in like that? Why didn't you wake me? We should have been in the office hours ago. You had a meeting at nine with a new client." She was upset with herself. "Oh, Sweetheart, today you have that deposition in court!"

"Put your head back," he commanded gently. "Miss Street—no, not this morning! Mrs. Mason, you don't have to worry. While you were sleeping peacefully, this boss of yours was informed you were tied up on family business. And I have it on good authority that he personally called his receptionist and instructed her to move the client meeting to tomorrow."

She looked at him quietly, then reached up and traced his jawline. "You did that for me?"

"I would do anything for you, love of my life. Now, about that deposition . . . That's why the office keeps Jackson around. It isn't anything he can't handle. I told him that, too."

She stared; mouth open in shock. Then she closed it and kissed him passionately. When she released his mouth, she asked, "And where was I while all these instructions and phone calls were being conducted?"

"You, beautiful lady, were sound asleep and snoring."

She pushed him. "I was not!"

He laughed. "Were too. I'd forgotten about your snoring. It's . . . it's wonderful!"

Her face flushed, but she snuggled her head under his chin and started making lazy circles with her finger on his chest. "You were very efficient, Mr. Mason. What excuse did you give them?"

"I simply said I had a very important matter to attend to."

"Well, Chief, would you be kind enough to tell me which matter is so important that even your confidential secretary is in the dark?"

"Are you?" he asked tenderly. "Are you in the dark, Della?"

She looked at him quizzically, one well-sculpted eyebrow raised to punctuate the question.

A gleam of devilment flickered in his eyes. They sparked, twin flames dancing in anticipation. "I can't leave you in the dark." Then he rolled them both over.

Della laughed and squealed as she landed on her back and he loomed over her, braced on his arms. Hugging her tightly, he pressed toward her. She stared into his eyes with unguarded wonder and awe. No one ever saw him this way except her. He was both angel and devil, and she loved every bit of him. His growing need left no doubt what that important matter he had to attend to was.

"Does this answer your question, Miss Street?"

She sighed in rapture. I love him! I love this man. How could I have ever pushed him away? But that moment wasn't one for introspection.

"Of course, boss! Now then, Mr. Mason, you need to let your secretary handle this little problem for you," she quipped, her eyes full of mischief and sensuality.

"Little?" He nipped a kiss on her nose. "Now you will see how little it is!"

He tossed the sheet on over them.

"Chief!" Della screamed as her laughter filled the room.

Yes, Perry thought to himself hours later, I'm home. All might not be well yet, but we're healing. Together. And together is how we will survive. No, not survive. Thrive. Mr. and Mrs. Perry Mason. Mrs. And Mr. Della Street.

He didn't entertain the thought, but it was there just the same. And family.