Excerpt of Come Home to Love by Joan Hohl

THE WIPERS SLAPPED hypnotically in a vain attempt to clear the windshield of the water that washed diagonally across it. The big car occasionally swayed gently from the slashing wind that drove the rain before it. Long blunt fingers curled easily around the leather-covered steering wheel held firmly, confidently by deeply tanned, broad, strong hands.

The quiet inside the car was broken suddenly by the click of a lighter and the gloom momentarily illuminated as the flame touched the end of a cigarette then, within seconds, another. The cigarette was placed into the long brown fingers by slim pale ones.

"Matt." Softly, barely a whisper, Katherine wasn't even aware she said it aloud.

"Hmm?" His eyes didn't leave the highway, which was barely discernible in the late afternoon cloudburst.

She raised startled eyes to him as she snubbed out her cigarette, then smiled slightly as the realization hit her that she'd said his name out loud.

"Nothing." Softly, "Just Matt."

Matt glanced at her quickly, noting the soft curve of her lips and the look in her eyes. His hand went to a button on the dashboard and the window beside him slid silently down six inches. His cigarette arched through the opening and he gave a swift, sharp glance into the rearview mirror. Then the window slid back into place. Gently easing an expensively shod foot from the gas pedal he drove the car off the highway across the gravelly shoulders onto the wet spongy grass that bordered the gravel.

A line of trees stood sentinel a few feet back from the edge of the grass, their branches, hanging heavy and sodden, almost touching the ground, giving a tunnel effect. Matt brought the Lincoln to a stop inside this tunnel. The drooping branches formed a screen, not only from the force of the wind and rain, but also the light traffic on the highway.

Katherine watched him quietly, a tingle of excitement beginning to rise, as he switched off the ignition and pulled the hand brake.

He nudged her shoulder with his and said softly, "Move over." She obeyed at once, sliding along the seat until she was almost touching the opposite door. Matt followed, and as soon as his large frame was free of the confining steering wheel, turned and pulled her into his arms.

She was ready for him, face lifted, lips slightly parted. He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own.

Her hands went to his shoulders and felt the muscles go taut at her touch and sighing softly she curled her arms around his neck, her body going soft against his hard one. His arms loosened; then his hands gripped her shoulders and turning her, his body pressed hers back against the seat. It was like being engulfed, the sheer size of him overwhelming. Oh Lord, Katherine thought, I want him. And then realized with surprise that she had wanted him, almost continually, for the last forty-eight hours.

His kiss was long, deep and she gave herself completely to it. She forgot where she was, everything. All she wanted to know was this man's arms, his mouth, his hands, one of which now moved slowly from her shoulders to cup and caress her face.

Moaning softly, she arched her back, pressing her body against his and he pulled his mouth from hers. "Damn." He shifted uncomfortably, trying to draw her closer to him and muttered, "I'm too big and too old to make love to my woman in a car, no matter how roomy it is." Then his lips closed to her ear, he whispered, "You're something of a witch, Kate, you know that?"

There was laughter in the reply. "Of course, I've put the Hex on you and you're completely in my power."

"Lo, these many moons," was his strange answer, and she drew back her head to look at him questioningly. But he shook his head, and changing the subject said, "We're never going to reach home at this rate." Disentangling himself he slid back under the wheel and added, "Now stay on your own side of the seat and behave yourself."

"Behave myself!" Katherine cried. "I didn't do anything but say your name."

"Well, don't say it anymore, and don't look at me like that either, unless you want to find yourself in the first motel room we happen to come to."

"Yes, sir," she replied demurely.

Flashing her a quick grin, Matt drove the car back onto the highway.

Katherine settled back into the soft leather seat. Head resting against the back, she studied Matt through partially closed lids.

He certainly did fill the space behind the steering wheel. There was only one word to describe him, she thought, big. All six feet, five and a half inches of him. From his broad powerful shoulders and back, to his long muscular arms and legs. And she knew there was not one ounce of excess flesh on the whole of his frame. His well-shaped head supported a full, thick growth of unruly dark auburn waves that no amount of brushing could tame. His face was robbed of being handsome by the almost harshly defined features. The straight nose, high cheek bones and firm thrusting jawline were covered with still firm, taut skin, deeply tanned from last summer's sun. Full dark brows arched slightly over the most riveting blue-gray eyes Katherine had ever seen.

Forty-three years had gone into the making of Matthew Martin. Forty-three years of working, fighting, sweating his way to the top. And he'd made it with a vengeance, by being smarter, faster and gutsier than most. He was hated by some, loved by some and feared by almost everyone, Katherine included. "Knock it off." The deep rough voice had the sting removed by its soft tone.

Katherine smiled and shifted her gaze to the wind-shield, watching, as if mesmerized, the wipers fight their valiant battle against the rain.

In a daze or kind of dream, Katherine watched as a picture swirled, then formed, of him twenty-five years before.

Tall, slim to the point of skinny, seemingly all gangly arms and legs that never seemed to fit his clothes because of the rate of speed of his growth. Big hands and feet forever sticking out incongruously. Auburn hair clipped short in the current crew cut vogue. Hardly the imposing figure of today.

Eyes closed now, Matt thought her asleep, as in her mind Katherine slipped back through the years to when she was a sophomore and he a senior in that Lancaster high school.

It was late winter and she was sitting in the stands at a basketball game. Matt was, without question, the star player of the team. For although he looked awkward and disjointed, when he played he was all smooth, swift, deliberate movement. Katherine had watched him play and had never seen him, for she had eyes for only one.

Time moved forward and she was at a baseball field. Matt was on the mound, arms raised high above his head as his long leg shot out in that strange wind-up of his, and then the ball went rifling through the air, across the plate, and the umpire's voice rang. "Out." Katherine had cheered and screamed along with everyone else, but she hadn't seen him, for she had eyes for only one.

Every high school in the States has at least one young man, usually a senior, who is the ideal all-American boy. Kevin Acker was theirs. And Kevin Acker belonged to Katherine. And Katherine had eyes only for him.

Kevin was the all-American boy. Tall, with a body like the Greek statue that adorned the high school foyer, short, fair, curly hair and a face handsome to the point of beautiful. Along with his high scholastic record he was a fine athlete, charming and well liked. The heart-throb of every girl in the school.

Katherine had been fifteen the previous fall, her first year of high school, and Kevin had tried to date her within the first week of school's opening. When she told him she was not allowed to date until her sixteenth birthday, which would occur the following spring, Kevin bided his time making do with phone calls and quick conversations after school before she had to board the bus for home.