The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

odd discomfort that merely gave detail to the wonder and the miracle of new
life. The pain of birth – it was not fun, not at all, but to be able to do it,
to have Jack at her side as he'd been with Sally and Little Jack, it was the
most profound act of love that she had ever known. It was what being a woman
meant, to be able to bring life to the world, to give a man the only kind of
immortality there was, as he gave it to her.
And besides, she thought with a suppressed giggle, getting pregnant beat the
hell out of jogging as a form of exercise.
Jack's hands removed her garment completely and eased her onto the bed. He was
good at this, always had been, from their first nervous time, and at that moment
she'd known that he would ask for her hand . . . after he'd sampled the other
parts. Another giggle of past and present, as his hands slid over skin that was
now both hot and cold to the touch. And when he'd asked, when he'd worked up the
courage, she'd seen the fear in his eyes, the terror at the possibility of
rejection, when she was the one who had worried – even cried once – for a week
that he might not ask, might change his mind, might find someone else. From
before their first lovemaking, Cathy had known. This was the one. Jack was the
man with whom she would share her life, whose children she would bear, whom she
would love to the grave, maybe beyond, if the priests were right. It wasn't his
size or his strength, not even the bravery he'd had to show twice in her sight –
and, she suspected, more than that in other places she'd never know about – it
was his goodness, his gentleness, and a strength that only the perceptive knew
about. Her husband was in some ways ordinary, in others unique, but in all ways
a man, with all the strengths and few of the weaknesses . . .
And tonight he would give her another child. Her cycle, predictable as always,
was confirmed by her morning temperature. Well, she admitted, it was mainly a
statistical probability, but a very high probability in her case. Mustn't get
too clinical, not with Jack, and not at a time like this.
Her skin was on fire now. Jack was so good at this. His kisses both gentle and
passionate, his hands so wonderfully skilled. He was wrecking her hair, but that
didn't matter. Surgical caps made perms a waste of time and money. Through the
scent of the dusting powder now came the more significant smells of a woman who
was nearly ready. Ordinarily she was more of a participant in these episodes,
but tonight she was letting Jack take complete charge, searching over her silky
skin for the . . . interesting parts. He liked that occasionally. He also liked
it when she played a more active role. More than one way to do this. It came
almost as a surprise. Cathy arched her back and whimpered the first time, not
really saying anything. It wasn't necessary. They'd been married long enough
that he knew all the signals. She kissed him hard and wantonly, digging her
nails into his shoulders. That signal meant now!
But nothing happened.
She took his hand, kissed it, and moved it down so that he would know that she
was ready.
He seemed unusually tense. Okay, she was rushing him . . . why not let . . .
after all, she'd let him take charge, and if she changed now . . . She moved the
hand back to her breast and was not disappointed. Cathy paid closer attention to
him now. Tried to. His skills in exciting her were unchanged. She cried out