by Lisa Jackson
Cool sand touched her back, and he half lay across her, the weight of his chest welcome, the feel of his body divine. She didn’t protest when his mouth moved from her lips to the slope of her chin and lower, against her neck. She was conscious only of the feel of the coming night, the cool sand against her back, the whisper of his lips against her skin, the firm placement of his hand across her abdomen, as if through her clothes he could feel the gentle pulsing at her very core.
He moved slightly, and his hand shifted, climbing upward to feel the weight of her breast. Chandra moaned as her nipple, in anticipation, grew taut and desire caused her breast to ache.
Dear Lord, this is madness! she thought, but couldn’t stop. She gripped his shoulders and sighed when she felt him push aside the soft cotton of the T-shirt until his flesh was nearly touching hers and only the simple barrier of white lace kept skin from skin.
“Chandra,” he groaned, as if in agony, against her ear. “Oh, God…” He tugged off her T-shirt then, as the first pale glow from the moon filtered through the forest. He stared at her, swallowing hard as his gaze centered on the dark nipple protruding against filmy lace.
Chandra shivered, but not from the coolness of the night so much as from that critical gaze that seemed to caress the border of tan and white flesh across her breast, below which the white skin, opalescent and veined with blue lines, rounded to a pert, dark crest.
Dallas closed his eyes, as if to steady himself, but when he looked at her again, none of his passion was gone. “This is crazy,” he whispered, and she couldn’t reply; her mouth was dry, her words unformed. But she felt him reach forward again, slowly push down the strap of her bra, peel away the gossamer fabric and allow her breast to spill free.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and then, as if he knew the words were too often spoken in haste, looked her straight in the eyes. “It’s probably as much a curse as a blessing.”
Beautiful? She wasn’t blind and knew she was pretty, but beautiful? Never. She felt herself blush and hoped the night hid the telltale scarlet stain creeping up her neck. “You don’t have to say anything,” she replied in a voice that sounded as if it had been filtered by dry leaves.
His arms surrounded her, and he drew her close, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that drew the very breath from her lungs. No longer tenuous, he pressed his tongue into her mouth and explored the wet lining, one hand surrounding her back, the other softly kneading her breast.
Chandra melted inside. Heat as intense as a fire burning out of control swirled inside her, through her blood and into her brain. She wrapped a leg around him and arched upward. He slid lower, then snapped the fastening of her bra, letting both breasts swing free. He captured one nipple in his teeth and sucked as if from hunger, his tongue flicking and massaging the soft underside of her skin.
Her passion igniting, Chandra cupped his head and pulled him closer, crying out in bittersweet agony when, as he breathed, his hot breath fanned her wet nipple.
“Please,” she whispered, caught in this hot whirlpool of desire and unable to swim free. “Please.”
He found the fastening on her shorts, and his fingers brushed against her abdomen and lower still.
Somewhere in the trees high above, an owl hooted softly, breaking the stillness of the night. Dallas’s lips stopped their tender exploration, but the breath from his nostrils still seared her sensitive skin. He jerked his head away. “This is a mistake,” he muttered, swiping a hand impatiently through his hair, as if in so doing, he could release the tension that was coiling his muscles. He rolled away from her. “Damn it all to hell, Chandra, I don’t know what got into me.”
Embarrassment crept up Chandra’s spine at his rejection. Silently calling herself a fool, she scrambled for her clothes.
“Look, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Things just got out of hand, that’s all.” She wished she felt as calm as she sounded, but inside, her heart was pounding, and she wanted to die of mortification. She’d never played loose and fast. Never!
She’d been the butt of cruel jokes while in medical school. Doug’s friends had wondered aloud and within her earshot if it were possible to light a fire in her or if she, so conscientious with her studies, were frigid. Doug had stood up for her, if feebly, and they had married, but she’d never forgotten how wretched those remarks had made her feel.
Nonetheless, she didn’t see herself in the role of femme fatale, and this little escapade with Dallas was certainly out of character.
“This doesn’t happen to me,” he said.
“And you think it does to me?”
His lips compressed into a hard line, and Chandra nearly laughed. What did he think of her? She should be incensed, but she found his confusion amusing. She smothered a smile as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. “Well, what just happened between us is usually not part of the expedition, not even the most expensive trips,” she teased, hoping to lighten the tension. Dallas wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, though she could think of nothing but the touch of his hands on her skin, the smell of him so close, the taste of his lips on hers. She turned back to the campsite. “Come on. We should start dinner, and if you think just because I’m a woman that I’m going to do it all myself you’ve got—Oh!”
He caught hold of her wrist and spun her around. She nearly tripped on a rock, and he caught her before she fell. Strong arms surrounded her, and his face, not smiling, but as intense as the night closing in on them, was pressed to hers. “I just want you to know,” he said so quietly she could barely hear him above the wind soughing through the pines, “I don’t play games.”
She gulped. “I wouldn’t think so.”
“So when something like this…happens, I can’t just take it lightly and shrug it off like you do.”
“It’s easier that way,” she said, lying.
In the darkness, his eyes narrowed. “Just what kind of woman are you?”
She sucked in her breath, ragged though it was. “What kind of woman am I?” she repeated, incredulous. “I’m a woman who doesn’t stand around waiting for a man to trip all over himself to open her car door, a woman who doesn’t believe in love at first sight, a woman who would someday like a child but doesn’t necessarily need a man, and a woman who expects any man she meets to pull his own weight,” she managed to spit out, though she was all too aware of the feel of his hands against her skin and the tantalizing passion flaring in his eyes.
His grin slashed white in the darkness, and his hand was tight over her wrist. A chuckle deep and rumbling erupted from him. “Are you really so tough?”
“Tough enough,” she replied, tilting her chin defiantly, though inside, she quivered. Not that she’d let him know. She didn’t want Dallas to suspect any weakness. She twisted in his arms, afraid that if he saw into her eyes, he’d read her hesitation. Together, while the river flowed on in bright glimmers of silver moonlight, they stared at the water, and Chandra couldn’t help feeling as if they were the only man and woman on earth.
“Come on,” she finally said, afraid this intimacy would only make spending the night together more difficult. She drew her hand from his and, reluctantly, he let her go. “I’m starved.”
They barbecued steaks and warmed bread, boiled potatoes and stir-fried fresh vegetables. Conversation was minimal. After dinner, they sat near the tents, the lanterns glowing in the wilderness and attracting insects. The smell and sound of the river filled the night, and Chandra felt more at peace than she had in a long, long while. There was something comforting about being with Dallas, something warm and homelike. And yet, there was another side to him, as well, the volatile, passionate side that kept her on edge. They drank coffee slowly, sitting apart, not daring to touch.
She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the man, whom she’d met as a doctor for J.D., but now knew as…well, not a friend…but more than an acqu
aintance. And possibly a lover? her mind teased, but she steadfastly shoved that absurd thought into a corner of her mind. Though she wanted to think of him as a man, she forced herself back to the issue at hand. She had more important things to think about.
“How long will Social Services wait until they place the baby?” she asked, sipping from her cup.
“As soon as we release him from the hospital. Probably in a day or two.”
“That soon?” Chandra’s heart took a nosedive. She’d have to work fast.
“He can’t stay in the hospital forever.” Dallas reached for the coffeepot, still warm on the camp stove, and, holding the enamel pot aloft, silently asked if she’d like more.
Shaking her head, Chandra bit her lower lip, her mind racing in circles. If no one claimed the baby, she’d try to adopt him. Why not? Tomorrow, when she returned home, she’d call her lawyer, have all the necessary applications filled out, do whatever she had to do, but, damn it, she intended to make a bid for the baby….
As if he saw the wheels turning in her mind, Dallas said, “What’s on your mind, Chandra? You’ve been bringing up the baby all day.” He stretched out on a sleeping bag and levered up on one elbow while his eyes, cast silver by the soft shafts of light from the moon, centered on her.
Could she trust him? She needed a friend, an ally, but Dr. O’Rourke was an unlikely choice. Licking her lip nervously, she decided to gamble. “I hope to adopt him,” she admitted, holding his gaze.
“If no one claims him.”
“If J.D.’s—” she saw the doctor’s bushy eyebrows elevate a notch “—that’s what I call him. You know, for John Doe.” When he nodded, she continued. “If J.D.’s mother shows up, she’ll have to prove to me that she’s fit. What kind of woman would leave a baby in a barn?”
“A desperate one?”
“But why not stick around? Or knock on my door? I would’ve helped her, taken her and the child to the hospital,” Chandra said, shaking her head and turning her attention back to the few swallows of coffee left in her cup. “Oh, no, there’s no reason, no good reason, to leave a baby to die.”
Dallas finished his coffee. “The baby didn’t die,” he pointed out. “Maybe the mother was in an abusive situation. Maybe she was trying to protect the child. The reason she didn’t show her face is that she doesn’t want her husband or boyfriend or whoever to show up, claim the baby, then perhaps hurt him or her. She could be on the run for a good reason.”
“There are agencies—”
“Not enough.”
Chandra glanced up at Dallas and noticed the serious lines deepening along his eyes and mouth. So there was a humanitarian side to Dr. O’Rourke. The man had many layers, Chandra decided, and she would all too willingly unravel each and every one to get a glimpse of the real man hidden beneath his cold, professional facade.
“I work in E.R. We see a lot of ‘accidents’ to children and women,” he added, his voice deep and grim. “You don’t know that the boy’s mother wasn’t a woman who, given her fear and limited knowledge, did the best she could.”
“Leaving a baby alone and defenseless is never the best. That woman—whoever she is—had other options. She didn’t have to take the coward’s way out. She could have taken that baby with her wherever she was running.”
“And what if she had a couple of other kids?” He sighed and threw the dregs of his coffee into the woods. “There’s no reason to argue this. We don’t know the woman’s motives, but I think there’s a chance the mother will surface, and when she does, she’ll want her baby back.”
Chandra knew he was right, and when her gaze met his eyes, she noticed a trace of sadness in their steely depths. Her heart grew suddenly cold.
“Just don’t get too attached to…J.D…. Don’t be giving him names and thinking about swaddling him in blankets and knitting little blue booties. You could get hurt.”
“It’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
Dallas drew one knee up and leaned over it. His face, illuminated by the fire, was serious as he studied the crackling flames. “There are other ways to become a mother—easier ways. Ways that will ensure that no one takes the child away from you.”
She snorted. “Most of those ways involve a man.” She stared boldly across the short space separating them, and asked, “Are you applying for the job?”
He returned her gaze for a long, tense moment, and Chandra wished she could call back the words, said too quickly. He probably thought she was seriously propositioning him.
“I just thought you could use some friendly advice,” he finally said.
Chandra felt a rush of warmth for the man. “Thanks.”
“You’re still going to go through with it, aren’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he continued, “You know, you might still need a man. The system still likes to place children in homes where there is a role model for each parent. And, no, since you asked a little earlier, I don’t go around fathering children.” An emotion akin to anger pinched the corners of his mouth. “Call me old-fashioned, but I think it’s a father’s duty, responsibility and privilege to help raise his child.”
“Well—” she stood and dusted her hands “—now we know where we stand.”
“Almost.” He tossed down his cup and stood, closing the distance between them. He grabbed both her shoulders in big, hard hands. “Be careful, Chandra. If you don’t watch out, you and the baby and God-only-knows who else might be hurt by this.”
“It’s my business,” she said simply, unmoving.
“It’s my business, too, like it or not. We’re both involved.” He dropped his hands, and Chandra took the opportunity to step back a pace, to keep some distance from him. Her crazy heart was thundering. What was wrong with her? She’d been with dozens of men on trips like this. A few had even made the mistake of making a pass at her. But until tonight, resisting a man’s advances had come easy.
To make herself look busy, she rinsed her cup in the warm water simmering on the stove. “I’d better get this food back in the bag and hang it from the tree, then we can turn in.” She wished she’d never gotten close to O’Rourke. He’d only reinforced her fears that adopting the baby would be difficult, even painful, and might not work. But then he didn’t know her, did he? He couldn’t understand that once she’d set her mind on something, it would take the very devil himself to dissuade her.
Later, tucked snugly in her sleeping bag, she thought about the night stretching ahead of her, of the starlit sky, the mist rising off the river, the man who slept only a few feet away. Kissing him had seemed natural and safe. She touched her lips and quietly called herself a fool. Dallas O’Rourke was a doctor, for crying out loud, a man married to his job, a man who might stand in her way in her efforts to adopt J.D., a man of whom she knew very little. She’d had a physical response to him, that was all. It was no big deal. She hadn’t been with a man since her divorce, and in those few years, she hadn’t so much as let another man kiss her, though more than a few had tried.
It wasn’t that she was a prude; her response to Dallas was evidence to the contrary. She just didn’t want an involvement with any man, including Dr. O’Rourke.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHANDRA WAS UP at the crack of dawn and insisted they break camp early.
“That’s it? We’re finished?” Dallas asked, his chin dark with the shadow of a beard, his eyes a midnight blue as he stretched and yawned. A few clouds hovered in the sky, but the temperature was cool, the mountain air crisp with the promise of autumn.
“Not quite. We still have one run before you can return to civilization. We’ll eat, take down the tents, check the supplies and make sure we haven’t sprung any leaks in the raft. Then we’ll shoot the lower flats.”
“Lower flats? Calmer than Grizzly Loop, I hope.”
“Different,” she replied as she retrieved the supply sack. Fortunately, no bears had disturbed the food, though once before, on a camping trip in the mountains, she’d awakened to see her f
at supply sack flapping in the breeze. It had been slashed at the bottom, the contents long gone, with only scraps of carton and paper and the wide tracks of a bear visible the next morning. That trip, they’d relied on the fish they’d caught and a few berries for the day. Fortunately, this time she wasn’t embarrassed by a persistent and clever bear making a mockery of her precautions.
After a quick breakfast of muffins, fruit and coffee, they made preparations to break camp. Before she folded up her tent, Chandra changed into a swimsuit, shorts and blouse. She tied her hair away from her face, ignored any thoughts of makeup and yanked on a nylon parka.
Dallas, who hadn’t bothered shaving, wore a khaki-colored pair of shorts and blue pullover. “You know, we could call it quits here,” he said as he loosened a rope and his tent gave way.
“Your brother paid for a specific excursion,” Chandra replied. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”
“He’ll never know.”
Bending over her own flattened tent, she smiled at him over her shoulder. “Cold feet, Dr. O’Rourke?”
“I just thought I’d save you some trouble, that’s all.” His blue eyes gleamed with a devilish spark.
“No trouble at all.”
Dallas didn’t argue any further. Chandra could sure change a man’s mind, he thought as he watched her move expertly through the campsite, packing gear, bending over without even realizing she was offering him a view of her rounded buttocks and tapered legs.
“Well?” she asked, turning to cast him an inquiring look. Her rope of tawny hair fell over one shoulder.
“You’re the boss.” He slapped his knees, and as he stood, he looked younger, more boyish, as if he were really enjoying himself.
She chuckled. “Now we’re making progress.” They packed the remaining gear and carried it up the shaded path to the strip of road where their trucks were parked.