"I've told you all along I'm here to stay. This is my home." She paused a moment, the silence heavy between them. "I heard that you spoke to Jonathon and Laura LaJune about Sissy."

He nodded. "I figured if Jonathon fought Sissy for custody of the baby, I'd finance a lawyer for her."

"From what I've heard that won't be necessary. Laura has taken Sissy under her wing, and I imagine when the time comes Jonathon will be handing out cigars." Again the silence grew. "It was Angelique who sent me the flowers. She took the stationery from Michael's place. She was hoping I'd be scared out of Black Bayou. We spoke and I think we will be friends." She frowned and sighed. "If only things were as easily fixed with Olivia."

"She loved your father very much," Billy said.

"Too much. She lived her life trying to get something from him he couldn't give her. She married Roger to make him happy, worked in politics to gain his respect. And finally she committed the ultimate crime to protect him, and he didn't even need protection." Shelby shook her head softly. "I imagine she'll have a lot of time to think about what she's done."

She stood and moved toward the door. There was nothing left to say, no unfinished business left between them. It was time to leave and put Billy firmly in her past.

She held out her hand, intending to end things on a professional note. "Then I guess that's it."

Billy took her hand in his, the s.e.xy, seductive smile on his face making her wish she hadn't initiated the simple tactile pleasure she found in his handshake.

She started to pull her hand away, but he held it fast and instead drew her closer, into the heat of his body, against the hard strength of his chest. With one hand he stroked the side of her cheek. That simple touch was her undoing.

"d.a.m.n it, Billy, don't touch me." She started to step away from him but he held her fast.

"Why not?" he asked, his breath warm on her neck. "I like touching you. I like kissing you, and I think if you're honest you'll admit that you like it, too."

"I do like it," she agreed, tears suddenly burning her eyes as she managed to break away from him. "That's the whole problem. I like it too much. And it isn't just your touch that I like." Like a crumbling dam, once the emotions began to seep, they swelled to flooding stage. "I like the way your lips curve when you smile. I admire how you care for Parker and your pa.s.sion for the swamp. I love how I feel when I'm with you, strong yet protected, safe yet adventurous-" She broke off with a sob of frustration. "d.a.m.n you, Billy, I hate you. I really hate you."

He smiled, the s.e.xy, seductive smile that twisted her heart. "How you do sweet-talk a man, Shelby." The smile faded and his dark eyes seemed to absorb her, so intent was his gaze. "If I didn't know better, that would sound like you love me."

She closed her eyes, not wanting to admit it, remembering she had sworn to herself long ago she would never feel that way about him again. She looked at him once more. "I said those words to you once a long time ago, and you threw them back in my face. I won't say them again. Besides, it really doesn't matter what I feel." She closed her eyes once again. "I know you can never forgive my mother and sister. How you must hate all of us."

"Oh, Shelby, if only it was that easy." He placed his hands on her shoulders and she couldn't help but look at him. "I think I fell in love with you years ago when I found you crying in the middle of the swamp and without saying a word you placed your hand in mine." He smiled at the memory. "Of course, we were just kids then. Then on the night of Mama Royce's death, when you told me you loved me, I was afraid to believe you. To me you were still little more than a kid. What in the h.e.l.l could you know about love?" His thumbs moved in caressing circles on her shoulders.

"But Billy, my mother-"

"Shh." He stilled her protest with his lips against hers, kissing her with a tender pa.s.sion that whispered of love. "As far as I'm concerned, you're as much a part of the swamp as I am. And the mother who raised you and made you the woman I love was Mama Royce. You were born a Longsford, but I'm hoping you'll live the rest of your life as a Royce."

Shelby held her breath, wondering if her ears deceived her, if what she saw shining in his eyes was a joke. "Is this a marriage proposal?"

He nodded solemnly. "I love you, Shelby, but I'm warning you. It won't be easy. We're bucking tradition here, swamp marrying town."

She stared up at him. In his eyes were the dark mysteries of the swamp, but in his heart was the goodness of Mama Royce. She could almost hear Mama Royce's sigh of contentment riding in the air. Town and swamp. What difference did it make? Shelby belonged here. She knew it with a clarity she'd never felt before. She belonged here amid the buzzing mosquitoes and the sweet memories and Billy.

She smiled, unafraid of what they might face as long as they faced it together. "It's time somebody bucked tradition. I suppose it might as well be us." She leaned against his chest, her smile wickedly playful. "I guess I'll have to marry you, Billy Royce. I believe it's my civic duty."

He grinned. "Ah, Shelby, how you do sweet-talk a man," he said just before his lips descended to claim hers in a kiss that spoke of forever.

eISBN 978-14592-7578-2.

Pa.s.sION IN THE FIRST DEGREE.

Copyright 1996 by Carla Bracale.