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  “Poor muffin. You’re not used to all this fun.”

  “You got that right. I—” She was startled to feel Jake’s hands on her ankles. She raised her head to see him lift both her feet from the cold concrete and lay them to rest in his lap.

  “What are you—oh.” He’d dug his thumb into the arch of her foot and sent her soul careening toward heaven. Her head fell back onto the padded chair back once again. “Oh. I see.”

  “Do you?” His chuckle was warm and low. “And what do you see?”

  “I think I can see the pearly gates from here.”

  “So it feels good then?”

  “Good doesn’t begin to describe it.” She curled her toes as he ran that magical thumb up and down her arch and then massaged the ball of her foot. “I just have one request.”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t ever stop.”

  He started on the other foot. He said nothing, concentrating instead on working his way through every tiny knot and every millimeter of tired muscle. She drifted on the motions of those wonderfully warm hands, and found herself imagining what it would feel like to have them touching other parts of her body. Her legs, thighs, breasts…

  Even as she thought it, his hands grazed over her ankles to begin kneading the backs of her calves. She lifted her head to watch him, enjoying the way the starlight played across his features—and then the way it glinted in his eyes as he gazed at her.

  Something passed between them then. Something that sent a sizzle through her tummy and shivers down her spine.

  Their gazes locked. His hands stilled with his palms still hot against her skin. “Is this okay?” His voice was little more than a whisper. “I thought your legs might be a bit sore too.”

  Without considering the wisdom of it, without taking a moment to think about whether it was a good idea to be so brash with the man who had rescued her and been nothing but a gentleman from the moment they met—she dropped her feet to the floor, leaned forward and kissed him.

  His lips were soft, hot and responsive—and the moment she tasted them she wanted more. She pressed harder, molded her mouth to his and let out a soft groan when his lips parted and his tongue slipped out to toy with hers. His hand came up to cup her cheek, and she replied with a hand to his chest. His silk shirt was smooth beneath her palm, his heartbeat rapid and rough.

  She had a desperate need to touch his skin, to feel the reassuring press of flesh to flesh. It had been so long since she’d felt this kind of desire—since she’d felt so precious and cared for. She wanted to just wrap herself up in that—dive into it as if it were a warm, tropical ocean, and never come up for air.

  She reached for the top button on his shirt but his hand on her wrist stopped her.

  Blinking in surprise, she broke the kiss and immediately turned away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Don’t be.” His hand, still locked on her wrist, drew her back and his other hand came up to cup her chin. She met his gaze and what she saw there was not the reprimand she expected. “Don’t be sorry. I want this more than I can say.”

  “But—”

  “But not now. You’ve had too much to drink and you’re far too tired.”

  She smiled. “I know what I’m doing, Jake. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me.”

  He ran his hand down her hair. “Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn’t. But either way, if and when we do…pursue this, I want it to be special and perfect. And I don’t want anybody to have any regrets.”

  “I won’t, Jake. I can assure you.”

  “You’re tipsy and tired, right?”

  Grudgingly, she nodded.

  “And you used all kinds of muscles tonight that haven’t been used in a very long time. Right?”

  Another reluctant nod.

  “So, how about a nice…sensual alternative to sex?”

  She frowned, confused.

  “A massage. I’m offering to give you a nice, long massage. Head to toe. You can lie down on the bed and fall asleep if you like. Surely you can’t turn down an offer like that.”

  She smiled. “I suppose not. It sounds wonderful. It’s the best offer I’ve had in years.”

  Chapter Nine

  Rachel stepped out of the meeting hall into dappled morning sunshine that filtered down through a canopy of maple leaves. The air was crisp and fresh, laced with the scents of lilacs and damp earth. She also caught a faint whiff of the bacon that she knew the kitchen staff was cooking up for their breakfast. Her belly rumbled in anticipation, even as she gazed around anxiously in search of Noah.

  He’d accompanied her to the sunrise service but then pleaded a previous commitment to helping out in the kitchen and left her in the capable hands of two good friends.

  Rachel turned to see Tanya and Alaina burst out of the doors behind her, giggling wildly as they jostled and joked with the rest of the worshipers. Rachel had never been so perplexed and yet so charmed by a church group before in her life. They could go from quiet and reverent to loud, enthusiastic and festive in a heartbeat. In fact their version of enthusiasm was unlike any form of Christian expression she’d ever encountered before.

  The previous night’s partying around a huge bonfire had included beer and wine and loud rock music along with Bible readings and recitations of various individual’s personal poems and testimonies. It had been unnerving—and strangely exciting. The spontaneity and sincerity of it had intoxicated her—as had the wine. She’d felt so free last night. Free to think and say and sing whatever her heart moved her to feel. And then she had looked at Noah and had felt something bloom in her chest—a fire that rivaled the heat of the fountain of sparks and flame that had been pouring out into the night.

  He’d taken her hand then, and led her away from the fire into the cool dark shade of the trees and they had shared a kiss. A kiss that had sent blood coursing through her veins—and evil thoughts coursing through her mind.

  She’d wanted to feel his hands on her skin. On every inch of her, from head to toe and every place in between. Her breasts had yearned for his touch. And her center had become swollen and hot with need. She’d never experienced these sensations before, and they at once fascinated and frightened her.

  She knew what it meant. Her body was telling her to have sex with this man, but it was at war with her conscience—with every Bible verse and every warning that her mother had ever heaped upon her. Sex outside marriage was a sin.

  Rachel had always accepted that before. It was Biblical, it was the Lord’s will, and it was a simple thing to follow his teaching. So why was it not so simple anymore? Suddenly she found herself asking questions that she’d never asked before. The most troubling being, why give her such a strong desire only to force her to deny it?

  Self-control. Discipline. Sacrifice. These were the hallmarks of a good Christian. These were the things that got you into heaven. But that kiss had felt like heaven. Or at least the gateway to it. And what was so wrong with wanting a piece of heaven on earth, anyway?

  The questions swirled in her head without answers. She wanted to see Noah—needed to see him. Now.

  “Rach?”

  She turned to find Tanya and Alaina, arms laced around each other, gazing at her with concern. That was the other thing about this community. Rachel had never met a group of Christians that were so affectionate with each other. Men and women hugged, and hugged each other constantly. She’d seen couples arm in arm or hand in hand walking through the grounds without a care for who saw them. She’d even seen two men holding hands as they sat together at the fire the night before, and had thought to herself how deep their Christian love must be for each other to be so unselfconscious about that. She envied them that.

  Tanya laid a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “You okay, sweetie? You seem a bit lost.”

  “No, no. I’m fine.” She took a deep breath of the morning air. “Just taking it all in. It’s a little overwhelming here.”

  Alaina smiled. �
��In a good way, we hope. Noah better not be neglecting you!”

  “Oh yes. Yes. Definitely. I’m having a wonderful time. And Noah’s wonderful.”

  Alaina winked. “You won’t get an argument with us there. You’re a lucky girl.”

  Rachel felt herself blush.

  “So, you coming along for breakfast? I’m sure he’ll be—”

  “He’s right here.”

  All three turned to find a rosy-cheeked Noah striding up to them, a broad grin on his face. He had a blanket over his shoulder and a large—and very mysterious—picnic basket looped over one arm.

  “Are you two talking about me again? Telling Rachel all my secrets?”

  “Well, if you’d share them with us maybe then we could tell her.” Alaina shrugged grandly. “As it is we have to rely on elaborate fabrications to sully your pristine reputation.”

  Noah moved right up beside Rachel and looped his free arm around her waist. “Bearing false witness is a sin, you know.”

  Tanya waggled her eyebrows. “Well, a girl can’t be perfect, you know.”

  “I don’t know,” quipped Alaina. “You’re perfect for me.” And then she kissed Tanya on the cheek.

  Rachel was beginning to get a funny…vibe from those two, but she didn’t have time to process it because before she knew it Noah was whisking her away into the trees for a picnic breakfast beside the lake. “I hope you don’t mind,” he was saying. “But I got the impression that maybe you were a little overwhelmed by everybody and wouldn’t mind some more…quiet time before the workshops and seminars start at ten.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Noah.” She laid her head against his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong. Everyone is so friendly and welcoming, I have no right to feel anything but completely comfortable and at home.”

  “But still…it’s a lot to take in all at once, isn’t it?” He squeezed. “Especially for a country hick like you.”

  She laughed at what had become a running joke between the two of them. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

  They reached the shore of the small lake and Noah spread the blanket out in a patch of sunlight where the morning rays had managed to dry out the dew. The sun glittered on the water like a million diamonds and the soft lap of the waves on the nearby shore strummed against her heart like the softest of hymns. She leaned back on her elbows, taking it all in as Noah laid out his feast of hard-cooked eggs, fresh bacon, croissants, fruits and cheeses. He’d even packed a carafe of hot coffee and a pair of stoneware mugs to drink it from.

  “You know,” she said on a sigh, “I don’t know how anyone can sit in a place like this and see wonders like these, and not just know that there is a God and that he loves us.”

  Noah offered her a mug of coffee and she sat up to take it. She took a sip and plucked a flaky croissant from the plate he’d set in the center of the blanket.

  Noah chose a hunk of brie. “Maybe so, but there are a lot of people in the world who never experience this kind of beauty and serenity. It’s harder to believe in God when your parents kicked you out of the house and you have to beg for food and make your home in a cardboard box behind a Yonge Street strip club.”

  The croissant turned to sawdust in her mouth. “Oh my. I’m sorry, Noah. Did I…I mean…is that how you—”

  “No, no.” He picked up her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just speaking about city life in general. I was one of the lucky ones. I had a very happy—” He paused. “Scratch that. I was very well provided for in my childhood. I wouldn’t say I was happy, however, until I went to live with my father when I was twelve.”

  Intrigued, she leaned forward. “Your parents aren’t together either?”

  “Good grief, no. They divorced when I was two. And after living with my mom for another ten years I can’t say I blamed my dad for leaving. That and he had…other reasons.” He took a sip of his coffee, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought he seemed a tad uncomfortable. But when he set down his mug he continued, as amiably as ever. “Barely a third of the people here have parents who are actually married or live together anymore. That’s not weird at all.”

  “Oh. I thought my situation was so unusual.”

  “Hardly. What made you think that?”

  “Well, I knew that the way we lived was unusual. It only took a couple of trips into the city for supplies to see that. And also my mother always drilled into my head how important it was to find the right man and marry him. That I should learn from her mistakes and her sins. Marriage is a covenant, not to be taken lightly. I never even really thought about…the alternatives. I figured if you marry somebody it would be right. You know…forever.”

  “Well, in an ideal world it would be. But we don’t live in an ideal world, do we?”

  “No. We sure don’t.”

  “And everybody is different, with their own needs and desires. And sometimes those needs and desires grow and change, and so do the people who have them. And those people should be free to pursue those needs and desires—and to make their own mistakes—as they see fit. Don’t you think?”

  “I-I suppose.”

  “I mean why would God punish us for following the very desires he instilled in us? Why punish us for being human, when He’s the one who created us that way?” He leaned forward. “I mean, does God really care about who we sleep with and when? Don’t you think he’s more concerned that we treat each other with love, charity and respect, rather than whether we’ve made ourselves miserable by denying the very things he gave us desire for?” He sat back again. “How does being guilty and miserable make us more holy?”

  She stared at him, hardly daring to breathe for fear of ruining the fantasy that she seemed to be living. He had echoed the very thoughts she’d had just a few hours ago. Truth be told, she’d been having those thoughts ever since meeting Noah in that coffee shop. She’d never felt this way before, never dreamed it was possible. And she couldn’t bear the thought of her feelings being wrong somehow. How could something that felt so good and so beautiful—and so right—be wrong? How could it be a sin?

  “Exactly,” she whispered, her face flushing hot with excitement as his gaze penetrated hers. “Those are my thoughts, exactly.”

  “And that’s not just me talking, Rachel. That’s the philosophy of this community. We praise God for His gifts. And one of His gifts is the wonderful diversity and love that the human race is capable of. We celebrate our humanity and all the diversity of God’s creation. We don’t punish anyone for it. Or judge. If there’s going to be judgment that’s up to Him. It’s not our decision.”

  His words were like honey to her starving soul. And she hadn’t even realized it was starving until she met him. Now that she knew it she wanted to be filled.

  Her eyes must have spoken the words for her because in the next moment she felt his hand on her cheek and he was whispering the words she longed to hear. “You’re so beautiful, Rachel. One of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. Truly beautiful. Inside and out.”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know how to be beautiful. I never thought of myself that way before.”

  “Well, that’s a sin.” He stroked a finger down her cheek and she thought she’d die from wanting to feel the touch of his lips.

  She placed her hand over his just to get another dose of the warmth of his touch. “But this isn’t. Right? What we’re feeling. It’s not a sin.”

  “No. This is beautiful. It’s definitely not a sin.” And at last he leaned in and kissed her.

  Sadie rolled over—and bumped into a warm body. Still half asleep but curious, she slid a tentative hand over the sheets to explore the warmth that was snuggled beside her under the covers.

  Her fingers found smooth, hot skin and the veins and sinew of a hair-dusted forearm. Sighing with delight, she explored farther and came across the firm curve of a biceps muscle—and then a shoulder. Collarbone. Pectoral.

  There she stopped. Pressing her hand a little more firmly to his chest, sh
e could easily make out the steady thrum of his heart. Opening her eyes at last, she gazed upon Jake’s face, still so peaceful in sleep and lit by the golden glow of the morning sun.

  He looked very much like an angel, she thought. And she wondered if, perhaps, that was exactly what he was. Who other than an angel would give a half-naked woman a massage from scalp to ankles—a massage complete with scented oil, candlelight and the soft strains of a Mozart sonata? And what man would do that without expecting some form of…payment? Although the massage was incredibly sensual and erotic, he had remained true to his word, and had even turned down her semi-sentient request to make love to her.

  Although she’d been half zoned out on wine and Jake’s touch she remembered it clearly. She’d gotten so aroused as his hands had kneaded the muscles of the small of her back and then the backs of her thighs. She’d been certain he was doing it merely to torture her, and had found herself yearning for his fingers to inch lower. Between her thighs. To sink deeply into her pussy and massage her where she needed it most.

  At last, unable to stand it another moment, she had whimpered a barely coherent plea—which he had chuckled away with a kiss to her shoulder and a gentle promise that if she still wanted him in the morning, he’d be more than happy to oblige. She later had a vague recollection of him asking if she’d mind if he slept on the bed beside her. She didn’t recall answering, but had little doubt she’d been open to the idea. At one point in the night she’d snuggled up to him, drawn his arm across her waist and luxuriated in the pure joy of feeling completely safe. Completely cared for. Beyond that, however, nothing other than sleeping had happened.

  But it was morning now and she was well-rested, sober and still wanted him—desperately. And she intended to hold him to his word.

  The trouble was he was sleeping so soundly, his breathing so soft and gentle and his face so relaxed that she didn’t have the heart to wake him.