by Sandra Brown
“You look beautiful today, Leigh,” he said softly. “My parents like you, just as I knew they would.”
“I like them, too,” she answered lifting the heavy platter.
Unexpectedly his arms were around her waist, and he kissed her lightly despite the heavy platter that created a barrier between them. The sensations awakened by his touch threatened not only the already short lifespan of the salad, but her own determination to resist him. He was creating inside her a need for him that was consuming.
“Chad, get in here with that roast,” his mother called from the dining room.
“And you feel as good as you look,” he said in a low voice. He backed away, dropped his hand, grinned wickedly, and went to do his mother’s bidding. The gelatin was quivering unduly when Leigh set it on the table.
* * *
“I still don’t think it’s right,” Amelia repeated sanctimoniously. Ignoring her, Stewart continued to rub bourbon whiskey onto Sarah’s tender gums. “I don’t approve of hard liquor in any form, and especially for a baby.”
“This is for medicinal purposes,” Stewart said. He didn’t seem at all perturbed over Sarah’s slobbery chewing of his finger. “I did this to Chad when he was a baby. And I’ve seen you ladle whiskey and honey down his throat to stop a cough.”
Amelia had the grace to look embarrassed. “Leigh’s going to think we’re terrible.”
“No, I won’t,” she laughed, feeling relaxed after the hearty dinner and pleasant conversation the Dillons had kept up during the meal. “I guess I’m going to have to buy a bottle of bourbon.” She and Chad were sitting close together on the sofa. His arm was draped across her shoulders. Lazily his fingers trailed up and down her arm. She tried not to think about his audacious behavior in the kitchen. Each time she did, he seemed to know what was on her mind and would wink at her slyly.
Even during the sumptuous meal, he had tormented her. While he listened with rapt attention to his father’s report on the cattle business, he had massaged her leg just above her knees with a talented hand. It did her no good to dodge that hand. It seemed to be equipped with radar and she was its target. Finally she surrendered, and he seemed content to idly stroke her knee while it was pressed to his beneath the snowy tablecloth.
“Tell me again how you put her in that high chair,” Leigh now said to Amelia.
“Adjust the tray, if possible, close to her chest. Then tie her in with a tea towel or whatever is available. Most high chairs have a strap that’ll go between her legs so she won’t slide out the bottom.”
“Sounds to me like it would be easier to teach her to sit alone,” Chad said with maddening logic.
Leigh and Amelia both cast him disparaging looks. He and Stewart only laughed. Chad treated his parents with respect and kindness, running and fetching for both of them. But they also knew how to tease. They must have had many happy times while he was growing up, Leigh thought. That they were proud of him went without saying.
“Uh-oh,” Leigh said when Sarah’s back began to arch and she started crying. “I think her good mood just ran out.”
“Why don’t you take her upstairs for her nap,” Amelia said, standing up to show Leigh the way.
“I’ll go, too,” Chad said eagerly.
“You stay where you are,” Amelia snapped. “Your daddy wanted you to watch the football game with him.” Meekly Chad dropped back onto the sofa.
Leigh took the squalling baby from Stewart and followed Amelia up the stairs. “This was Chad’s room,” Amelia said, stepping from the long hallway into a large bedroom. “As you can see, I’ve never changed it.” The room was crowded with sports pictures, trophies, banners, and pennants. A pair of snow skis and a tennis racket were standing in one corner. A football helmet was hanging by a hook on the paneled wall.
“If you’ll help me, we’ll have the bed against the wall and put pillows on the outside edge so that little precious won’t roll off.” Leigh smiled. Amelia planned ahead.
They moved the bed and laid Sarah down, but she wasn’t ready to fall asleep. Her tiny feet in the new satin shoes plowed into the mattress and her head rutted against it in a true temper tantrum. Her face was beet red.
“She’s in a strange place,” Amelia said sympathetically. “When Chad was a baby, he’d hardly sleep anywhere except his own bed.”
“Maybe if I lie down with her for a while, she’ll go to sleep,” Leigh said, slipping out of her shoes.
“Do that. I’ll leave you two alone. She’ll wear herself out in no time.”
Leigh stretched out beside the baby and patted her back until she wound down and her crying became ragged sobs that diminished into hiccups that eventually became regular breathing. Leigh spread the quilt at the foot of the bed over them both. She studied a picture of Chad in a fierce football pose until her own eyes closed in sleep.
* * *
When she awoke, it was to something delicious happening to her ear. She moved her head slightly, but it bumped into another one leaning over her. “Wake up and kiss me, woman,” the deep voice demanded. Warm, moist lips hovered above hers, moving elusively until her lips parted to greet an ardent mouth. It was too much of an effort to open her eyes, but she did lift her arms from beneath the warmth of the quilt to caress the back of Chad’s strong, masculine neck.
“God, you taste good,” he murmured into her ear, and began doing what he had done before to awaken her. She opened her eyes far enough to see that Sarah was sleeping soundly against the wall. Chad was kneeling beside the bed. His arm lay heavy around her waist and, with the merest pressure, turned her to face him. His mouth closed over hers once again. The kiss deepened, his tongue a marauding, rapacious plunderer that conquered with finesse.
“Chad,” she breathed languidly when his mouth was diverted to the hollow of her throat. His breath was hot against her already sleep-warmed skin. “You shouldn’t be in here doing this.”
“Scoot over.”
“Your parents—”
“Are both asleep in their chairs in front of the television. It’s a very dull game. Scoot over.”
Blindly she obeyed him, moving over far enough for him to lie down beside her. He eased the quilt over himself and pushed against her gently until she lay on her back looking up at him as he leaned over her.
“We can’t—”
“You’re beautiful,” he said thickly. “Your eyes are so blue.”
“Yours are bluer.”
“No.”
“Yes,” she averred. Pushing conscience and common sense aside, she smoothed her finger over his dark brows. Unintentionally seductive, the exploring finger eventually found its way down his nose to his lips to outline them in tentative invitation. Chad groaned away his restraint and fell on her mouth again, ever hungry for the taste of her.
His hand smoothed down the front of her blouse, released the buttons with no measurable objection from her, and slipped inside. Her skin was alive to his touch as the bra fell free with a deft flick of his wrist. He raised his head and, moving aside the rustling cloth, looked at her. “Leigh,” he sighed reverently.
His fingers played over the dusky pink nipples that competed for his attention. They pouted prettily as he delighted in the look, the color, the texture of them. He was sensitive to just the right amount of pressure to apply as he gently rolled them between his thumb and index finger. Leigh couldn’t help either the involuntary arching of her back or the wanton moan that issued from her throat. His eyes melted into her a moment before he lowered his head.
He kissed her nipple with a plucking motion of his lips that plunged her into a maelstrom of desire. With each tiny tug, her womb contracted against an emptiness that she hadn’t known was there. Desperately she wanted it filled.
“Chad,” she cried softly, pressing against him.
“I know, my love, I know. I’m burning for you.”
His hand covered her breast with a gesture almost protective as his mouth traced down the furrow between her r
ibs. He worked the fastening of her slacks, unzipped them, and exposed her navel to his nimble tongue, kissing it evocatively.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against her abdomen as he sampled it with delightful nibbles. He encountered the lacy elastic band of her bikini panties. “Leigh, I want you so much.” His intense desire was evident in the tightness of his voice. The proof of his need lay like a steel rod against her thigh.
It came to her like a bolt of lightning out of a black-velvet night what was happening and she tensed against it. “No, Chad,” she cried and clamped her hand over his where it lay at the top of her thighs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not here. Not like this. Not”
“Shhh. Leigh,” he said quickly, softly, “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, squeezing her eyes shut against the understanding she read in his. Perhaps she didn’t want him to be understanding. Perhaps she wanted him to be persuasive. Even now her body yearned for fulfillment.
But it was wrong. She couldn’t marry him, and an affair would be contradictory to everything she believed in. Yet her whole body throbbed with longing for him. And if she felt this gnawing emptiness, what must he feel? She opened her eyes to see him watching her closely.
“You must hate me for what I just did to you,” she said. “I didn’t do it maliciously.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And if it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t have made love with you under these circumstances either. This is neither the time nor the place.”
She lay docilely as he readjusted her clothing.
When he was done, he leaned over her and whispered, “Do you think I’ll ever get to see you completely naked?” His smile was warm, mischievous.
“You’re outrageous,” she said, smiling timidly.
He gave a rakish chuckle. “Don’t you have the slightest curiosity about what I look like naked?”
“No.”
He grinned, his teeth flashing whitely in the dusk-darkened room. “Liar.” Her strenuous protest was never uttered. His mouth got in the way.
* * *
They woke Sarah, and Leigh dressed her in the denim overalls that Chad highly approved of. He carried the baby down the stairs. On the bottom step, Leigh clutched at his arm. “Do you think they’ll notice… anything?”
“You mean the whisker burns on your breasts? Not unless you take your blouse off.” He laughed at her mortified expression. “The only thing they might notice is that I’m having a terrible time keeping my hands off you. Watch out. I may not succeed.”
Indeed, while they decorated the tree, Chad did have a hard time not touching her. Once, while she was in the shadows behind the tree—the lights in the room had been turned off so they could enjoy the soft-colored lights strung on the tree—he came up behind her, encircled her with one arm, covered her breast with his hand, and kissed her wetly on the side of the neck.
“Chad, stop that!” she whispered fiercely.
He only chuckled and squeezed a handful of her bottom.
They were almost finished with the decorating when Leigh stood aside to watch Chad’s parents as they played with Sarah. Every once in a while one of them would call a suggestion to the two hanging the decorations; otherwise, they were absorbed with the baby, who seemed to share their ready affection.
“Chad,” Leigh said softly, alerting him by her tone that this wasn’t one of the playful jibes they had been tossing to each other. “What happened to your father’s leg?”
The Christmas tree was mirrored in his eyes, but she could read the hesitation in them before he said, “It was crushed by a piece of machinery while he was fighting a fire.”
The stricken expression on her face said it all, and he turned away from it, clapping his hands together and asking his mother where the refreshments were.
Amelia and Stewart heaped praise on them for the beautiful tree while they ate large slices of caramely pecan pie topped with whipped cream. When they were done and Chad announced that they’d better get Sarah home before it got any later, Leigh said, “If you’ll get her things repacked in her diaper bag, I’ll help your mother with these dishes.”
Chad grumbled over his assignment, complaining that things were scattered from here to kingdom come, but Leigh ignored him. Stewart was commissioned to entertain Sarah, a task he welcomed.
Leigh was drying the last cup when Amelia took it away from her and clasped both the younger woman’s hands between hers. “Leigh, your coming out here with Chad has meant so much to us.”
“To me, too.”
“We’ve been worried about Chad,” Amelia confessed.
“The work he does?”
“That most definitely, but I’m talking about his personal life. After Sharon, we were afraid he’d never risk falling in love again. I think he’s terribly in love with you.”
Leigh’s mind had homed in on one word. More appropriately, one name. “Sharon?” she asked in a thin, reedy voice. I don’t want to know! her mind screamed.
Amelia’s eyes widened in dismay. “You don’t know about Sharon?” Leigh shook her head. “Oh, dear,” Amelia said quietly, obviously upset.
“Who is she? Please tell me.” Leigh didn’t realize the strength with which she was gripping the other woman’s hands until she saw Amelia wince. Loosening her grip, she repeated, “Please.”
Amelia’s look was sympathetic. “I think you should ask Chad.”
Chapter Six
“Should I be apprehensive about your quiet mood? You haven’t said a word since we left.”
The night was cold and dark. The moon was a crescent shadow on the far horizon that lent no light. Only Chad’s headlights sliced through the darkness of the flat, desolate highway. Sarah lay sleeping in Leigh’s lap.
Leigh turned her head and spoke to his profile. “Who is Sharon?”
His head whipped around and the car swerved enough to jar Sarah out of slumber. Her limbs stiffened reflexively and her mouth sucked at nothing before she relaxed once more.
“How did you hear about Sharon?”
“Inadvertently your mother mentioned her. She suggested I ask you about her. Who is she, Chad?”
He cursed softly and thumped his fists on the steering wheel. “Sharon was my wife. She killed herself.”
Dumbstruck, she stared at him across the darkness of the car. Her heart came to a dull, thudding halt in her chest. “Your wife?” she gasped on a filament of sound. “Your wife?” He nodded curtly. Leigh gazed out into the night, trying to digest the unreality of it. Turning back to look at him, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“Because she wasn’t relevant.”
“Not relevant?” she asked so loudly that Sarah flinched again.
“No. Not to us. My marriage has nothing to do with what I feel for you. I’m in love for the first time, Leigh. Not to say that I didn’t love Sharon. But I loved her in a different way.”
“She committed suicide?”
His hands clenched around the padded leather steering wheel. “Yes.”
“Why, Chad?”
“Dammit—”
“Why?” she shouted.
He braked the car to a screeching halt. Leigh didn’t realize until then that they were in front of her house. Chad turned in his bucket seat to look at her, his eyes flashing angrily. Even in the darkness they were brilliant, lit by an internal flame.
“It happened two years ago. I was in Alaska fighting a fire. It was a helluva fire and took us weeks to put out. Sharon was notified that I was hurt. I was. I had gotten bumped on the head and had a slight concussion, but that was the extent of it. The details of the accident didn’t filter down until after she had taken a bottle of sleeping pills.”
He turned away and pushed open his door. Hastily Leigh rewrapped Sarah and stepped out of the low car when he opened her door. “Where’s your key?” he asked as they hurried through the frigid wind toward the front door.
/> “In here.” She lifted her arm, making her purse available to him.
He fumbled through the contents until he located the key. In a matter of moments the door was opened. Chad went in ahead of Leigh and Sarah to turn on lights and reset the thermostat, which Leigh had conscientiously lowered before they left for the day.
“I’ll go get the diaper bag,” he said.
Dispiritedly Leigh carried Sarah to her new room and laid her in the crib. Her fingers moved automatically as she changed Sarah out of her clothes into a sleeper. She spoke to her softly, commending the infant on her good behavior all day, but Leigh’s mind wasn’t on the lulling words. Her thoughts were focused on the tight, closed expression on Chad’s face when he had told her the details of his wife’s death.
By the time the baby was changed, he was standing beside Leigh at the crib. “Good night, Sarah.” When he bent from the waist to kiss the baby on the cheek, she bopped him on the nose with her fist. He chuckled as he turned her over onto her stomach, patted her once on the rump, and then left the room.
Leigh prolonged her good night to the drowsy infant, dreading the showdown she knew was waiting for her in the living room. When at last she switched off all but one dim night light, she had run out of excuses not to join him.
Chad was sitting on the sofa staring at the floor. His hands were loosely linked between wide-spread knees. As Leigh entered the room, he lifted his head to look at her.
“I apologize for not telling you about Sharon,” he said without preamble. “Considering how she died, I think you can see how it wouldn’t be a pleasant subject to bring up when you’re courting another woman.”
It was a flimsy excuse, and Leigh knew there had to be more behind Chad’s reticence than this. She was determined to draw the truth from him. “There have been plenty of times you could have told me, Chad. I asked if you were married when I was in labor. You could simply have said you were a widower. When I talked to you about Greg, that was a perfect opportunity for you to tell me about Sharon. Or you could have told me the other night when we were clearing the air about all the other secrets you had kept from me. Oh, yes, if you had wanted to tell me, there have been numerous opportunities to do so.”