She spent the majority of the afternoon watching TV or writing. She couldn't do much else.

As day turned into night, she felt tired. And Malan was too.

Her limited mobility had made her care taxing. The medication her doctor prescribed for her added to her fatigue.

She scooted from her wheelchair to their bed. Malan arranged a few pillows at the foot of the bed. She situated herself on the bed, propping her black air cast on the pillows. She laid down, covering herself with blankets.

Her husband pulled on his old black sweats before climbing into bed beside her. She turned her head, connecting his mouth to hers.

"Glad to be home?" He murmured, his gentle, firm surface roamed over hers.

"Mmm," she purred with pleasure, her soft, moist petals cascaded on his.

"I missed you," he said huskily, savoring the sweet, sultry taste of her mouth.

He groaned softly. He'd really missed her. He was glad to have her home, to have her lying beside him.

As their kiss deepened, he wanted to touch her but he didn't know where he could that wouldn't hurt her.

"Malan," she whispered, feeling the passion, desire and need in his kiss. Swirls of sympathy and guilt whirled through her. She wanted to do something for him but she wasn't in a condition to do anything, except sate him with the sizzling passion of her kiss.

*

Darkness swirled around him. He was half awake and half asleep. His mind whirled. He usually didn't wake up during the night, but he'd had the strangest dream.

Her smooth hand touched his bare shoulder. "Bad dream?"

He turned over on his side. He blinked in disbelief. What was Cassandra doing lying beside him?Cassandra, her long brown hair cascaded around her oval face, ran her hand over her sensual golden skin. She smiled. "I don't know what we're going to do about these bad dreams you keep having."

He slowly composed himself. "What are you doing here?"

She laughed, tossing a tendril of her hair over her bare shoulder. "I'm Cassandra Hamel, your wife."

Why had he married a woman he didn't love? "What happened to Lathal?"

His question struck her as odd. Her fingers walked over the light layer of hair on his arms. "Are you alright?"

He licked his lips. "I just want to know what's going on."

She leaned back with a sigh, "You and Lathal have been best friends for years."

He nodded. She was alive.

His heart beat. Excitement, passion, pleasure building inside him. She was still part of his life.

"You know," she continued in a quiet voice. "She married Kurt Blackenridge."

"What?" He said sounding surprised. How could Lathal marry a man she didn't love?
Her eyes narrowed with concern. "Are you alright?"

He managed a smile. "Of course, I am."

She kissed him full on the lips, stroking his naked body. His heart sunk in his chest. Lathal, what have I done to you?

*

That morning he went to The Big Horn. He wanted answers; she was the only one who could soothe the turmoil raging in his soul.

He barged into her office. "What are you doing married to Kurt Blackenridge?"

Lathal laughed, "At least you could begin with good morning."

He stood on the other side of her jet black desk with a golden name plate with the words editor in fancy lettering on it. "Tell me what you know about me."

His question seemed strange. She stretched her legs beneath her desk. "You're the best actor I've seen," she smiled. "Apparently the Academy of Film and Motion Pictures agreed they gave you a best actor Academy Award."

He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God he hadn't given up his dreams.

He leaned toward her. "What about you and me?"

How could he ask her something like that? He knew better than that.

Why was he acting this way? She was beginning to think he'd lost it.

Her eyebrows furrowed together. "Malan, are you feeling OK?"

His confusion and frustration was reflected in his eyes. "Why didn't you and I get married?"

"Malan, you and I are friends," she said, her worry for him showed on her face. "We've always been."

"I can't believe that," he said, grabbing her hand and holding it close to his heart. "You know how I feel about you."
What was he suggesting? What he was saying was crazy.

"Cassandra," she said, pulling her hand away. "She's the one you love."
He shook his head. "I want you," he said, his desire and passion clear in his voice. "I want you to be my wife." Like a predator stalking its prey he came around her desk. He yanked her from her navy blue swivel chair into his arms. "I love you, Lathal."

"I won't cheat on my husband," she said struggling to free herself from him.

He didn't care. He couldn't deny his feelings. He wouldn't deny what he knew in his heart to be true. She was his true love and he, hers, for eternity.

He pressed his mouth hard against hers. The taste of her sweet, moist lips on his filled him with such incredible bliss.

His firm masculine essence explored her ruby red morsels with cruel ravishment. His fingers formed a claw in the back of her head, he made her feel the tenderness in his kiss.

He took her to the height of her passion. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth where it tangled with hers.

She let out a raspy breath. "Malan."

"Does he make you feel like this?" he said, his mouth crashed against hers like the tides.

"I..." Her sultry purr faded away into a whisper as she lifted her lips for more of his sinful intimate kisses.

She arched her back. Like a waterfall her long blonde hair rained down around her shoulders.

He peeled away her silk blouse, fondling her full, heaving mounds beneath her lace bra. He slid the straps off her shoulders until her breasts were completely exposed. His thumbs rubbed her hardened pink nipples.

She gasped with pleasure. His hand drifted down her cool stomach, moving around her hips. He loosened her skirt. His fingers dipped below the waistline into her panties. His fingers probed her wet feminine folds.

She panted. She wanted him. She needed him.

His pants were around his ankles, he pulled his underwear down. His thick, throbbing masculinity teased her womanhood. He wanted and needed her as much as she did him.

"Let me make love to you," he said huskily.

He felt so good. She had to have him.

When he finally took her she moaned.

He sat up like a bolt of lightning.

"Malan," Lathal said softly. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I have to go to the bathroom."

"It's OK," he said running his fingers through his disheveled brown hair as he climbed out of bed.

He reached to scoop her up. She gazed up at him in the darkness. "Did you have a bad dream?"

He sighed, "You were married to Kurt and I was married to Cassandra; we were cheating on them."

She laughed, "Sounds about right."

He grinned in agreement. She hobbled over to the toilet; he turned away to give her some privacy.

"I think this accident is going to be a challenge for both of us," she mused as he wheeled her back to bed.