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"I think Ramon would be pleased," she said.

Pressing his body against hers, letting her feel the throb­bing strength of his arousal, he nipped at her earlobe. "Besides me and my father's money, I'd like to offer you something else."

Cyn laughed, swatting playfully at his chest. "You wicked man, offering me sex in broad daylight."

Rubbing his maleness into her femininity, he grinned. "The sex goes without saying, but that's not what I was talking about."

"Well, what else were you offering me?" Cyn asked.

"I think you and I would make awfully good foster par­ents, don't you?"

"Foster parents?"

"Bobby and Aleta. I think they need us. Bobby has no parents, and Aleta's mother has signed papers giving up any legal right to her in exchange for not bringing her up on abuse charges."

"I think," Cyn whispered into his chest, her tongue flicking over one distended male nipple, "that you will make a wonderful father."

Images of Cyn big with his child flashed through Nate's mind. The thought pleased him greatly. "Let's go inside and work on making you a natural mother." * * *

Sunset in the western Florida sky, a melange of colors, like the iridescent shades of a crimson-tinted rainbow. Eve­ning of a hot summer day, the stirrings of a warm tropical breeze as purple shadows forecast the night. The ocean's heartbeat echoing along the shore as a sweet soprano voice sang, a cappella, the lyrics to "True Love."

Nathan Hodges dressed in a black tuxedo watched while the bridal procession made its way up the beach. At his side, Nick Romero, well on the road to recovery, sat in a wheel­chair while John Mason and Bobby stood.

Laurel Drew Mason, wearing a tea-length dress of pale yellow satin, approached the groom, his best man and groomsmen. Aleta followed in a matching dress of a less mature design, and last but never least, Mimi Burnside, the matron of honor, strolled along the beach, unable to hide her wide smile.

The standing crowd of well-wishers held their breaths when Cyn, escorted by her father, passed by in her flowing gown of antique white satin, with Batenburg lace accenting the sweetheart neckline and butterfly sleeves. A Juliet cap covered with baby's breath sat on the back of her head and a short gathered veil covered her long golden hair, which was secured in a bun at the base of her neck. The bride carried an enormous bouquet of white orchids.

Hand in hand, Cynthia Ellen Wellington Porter and Na­than Rafael Hodges faced the minister and repeated their vows of love and lifetime commitment. Before God, their family and friends, they became one.

Nate kissed his bride so long and hard that his best man poked him in the ribs. And then the party began. Hours of food and champagne and music. Denton Wellington had spared no expense in giving his daughter the unorthodox wedding of her dreams on the Sweet Haven beach.

All the present residents and volunteer workers of To­morrow House were in attendance as were Cyn's brother David, Bruce Tomlinson and Emilio Rivera.

While the crowd continued the revelry long after the sun had set and stars appeared in the black night sky, Nate swooped his bride up into his arms and carried her away... all the way across the street to his house.

Snuggling in her husband's arms, Cyn didn't even realize that Nate was carrying her straight to the storage rooms, to the old mission part of the house.

When he felt her tense, Nate hugged her to his chest. "All the bad memories, the pain, the ghosts of the past, will vanish tonight. From now on, these rooms will hold only happy memories."

The huge wooden door stood wide open. Cyn held her breath as Nate carried her across the threshold. The outer room was empty, swept clean, the windows unboarded and open. She clung to him, her heart beating wildly as he stepped inside the inner room. Cyn gasped at the sight.

Moonlight streamed down through the unrepaired open­ing in the roof and hundreds of candles glowed like flaming eyes all over the room. They flickered on the floor, in wall sconces, on a table filled with flowers, a table set with champagne and food, and they perched in the open win­dows like Titian-haired little guards illuminating the dark night. An old wooden bed, placed in the middle of the room, gained all of Cyn's attention. Cream satin sheets edged with delicate lace shimmered in the warm candle­light.

Nate set his bride on her feet, gazing at her with loving adoration as he drew her into his arms. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

"Am I as beautiful as you?" she asked teasingly, re­membering how he'd sworn she'd never get him to wear a damned monkey suit.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, lady. You'll never see me in one of these blasted tuxedos again." He released her, pulled off his jacket and tossed it across a nearby chair.

Cyn began unbuttoning his pleated-front shirt. "You'll have to wear one when your daughter gets married."

"Aleta is only twelve, and since I'm not going to let her date until she's thirty, I won't worry about her wedding." Nate reached around and released the top button of Cyn's wedding gown.

Slowly, sensuously, with their gazes locked in the heat of a smoldering passion, Cyn and Nate undressed each other. With each garment removed, each new inch of flesh ex­posed, the desire within them increased until their hands trembled when they stood naked.

Nate picked her up, the feel of her bare skin exciting him, hardening his throbbing arousal. Lowering her tenderly upon the bed, he followed her down, covering her, his lips taking hers in a frenzy of wild abandon as his manhood pressed against her waiting femininity.

He had never known with any woman what he had found with Cyn, the passion, the uncontrollable thirst that could be quenched only with their heated mating, and a love that went beyond the here and now to stretch the boundaries of eternity.

She flung her arms around his neck, beckoning him to come to her. With his lips burning hotly against her neck, he buried himself deep within her. Cyn cried out from the pleasure of their joining.

With each touch, each kiss, each forceful thrust, Nate gave himself into her safekeeping, trusting her with his very soul.

"Ah, querida, yo te amo." Nate spoke the words, but the sentiments belonged to an ancient conquistador as well as the modern warrior.

"And I love you," Cyn told him, her heart beating with the love of two women. "I'll love you forever."

Epilogue

As the last candle flame flickered into oblivion, dawn broke over the Atlantic Ocean. The first faint light of morning seeped through the windows of the old mission, covering the entwined bodies of two lovers lost in a pas­sionate mating dance that united them for all eternity.

When fulfillment claimed them and their cries of plea­sure shattered the tender silence, Nate planted within Cyn's receptive body the seeds of their immortality.

Outside, two spirits walked together along the isolated beach, their hearts rejoicing, their souls preparing for a fi­nal journey.

"It is time," she said.

"Yes, querida. They have set us free."

After four hundred years of waiting, the small Timucuan maiden and her big Spanish conquistador left the Florida beach where they had met and loved and died so long ago. On the day that Rafael Wellington Hodges was conceived, the souls of two ancient lovers entered paradise.