A Father's Secret

by Yvonne Lindsay

  * * *

  And if Riley was his son? Sam thought. Where would that leave Erin? No wonder she was dragging her heels about the DNA testing. This home was her son’s birthright—but only if he was her husband’s biological child.

  Sam gave her a searching look and whistled softly. “Heck of a responsibility.”

  “I know, which is why I have to get it right. Build the business back up again and make sure Riley has something worth inheriting. James and I closed down operations when he became ill, let our staff go. It was a hard decision but the lodge was too much for me to run on my own while I was pregnant and then after Riley was born. And when we found out James wouldn’t get better, it was too late to change our minds.”

  “You didn’t want to put managers in, just to keep the business running?”

  “No. I did suggest it, but this was James’s family home as well as our business. He didn’t want strangers making decisions he should be making. He was pretty old-fashioned that way.”

  Sam looked at Erin. She looked tired. Worn-out, really. As if all the cares of the world had settled on her shoulders. He knew the feeling, and also knew how hard it was to pull yourself out of the darkness.

  A sudden yawn seemed to catch her by surprise.

  “You’re tired,” Sam said immediately, rising from his seat. “I’m keeping you.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Erin protested. “Please, sit down. Finish your drink.”

  He sat down again and watched as she took another small sip of her wine, admiring her grace as she did so. Even though she always seemed as though she was on the go, she did so with a fluidity of movement that he found distinctly appealing. Since their kiss last week, he’d found himself watching her at the oddest times. He even left his office door open sometimes when she came up to make up his room or replace the linen. Seeing her bend over the bed and smooth out the comforter, watching how the fit of her jeans was so perfect across her hips and the softly rounded curves of her buttocks—it had been a slow and silent torment. One he’d begun to relish.

  “Forgive me for asking,” he began, leaning forward just a little in his chair. “But you seem a bit distracted tonight. Something on your mind?”

  She laughed, a self-deprecating sound. “You could say that,” she admitted.

  “Anything I can help you with? As clichéd as it is, you know what they say—a problem shared is a problem halved.”

  “I think I’m beyond sharing my problems,” she said with a wry twist to her mouth. “I’ve gotten so used to handling everything on my own. Thanks, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Riley was a bit of a handful today and I got a little behind on things is all.”

  “Maybe I can mind him for you occasionally during the day,” Sam suggested, his heart beating a little faster. Would she go for it? She’d been a perfect hostess so far, ensuring that Riley’s daily routines didn’t impinge on his as a guest at the lodge, but he’d give just about anything to spend more time with the little boy. Every day he was more and more certain Riley was his child, yet he had to wait until Erin obeyed the court order for the DNA testing. Sure, he could steal a snip of Riley’s hair, or at least try to, but that wouldn’t hold up in court. Everything had to be done properly. Every t crossed and every i dotted.

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t expect you to do that—you have your own work to do. Besides, you don’t have any experience with babies, do you?” She must have seen the stricken look that crossed his features because she hastened to add, “I’m sorry, that was careless of me.”

  “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “But still, if I’m not busy and you want to get things done around the place while Riley’s awake, I don’t see why I couldn’t mind him here for you.”

  “Seriously?” Erin gave him a cheeky grin that made his heart do a crazy flip-flop in his chest. “And if he fills his diaper?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Sam said stoically. He’d have to do his best if Riley did turn out to be his. He had every intention of being a major part of his son’s life.

  “I’ll think about it,” Erin said with another smile.

  “You’re beautiful when you smile like that,” Sam said, without thinking. “Well, you’re beautiful all the time, but especially when you smile.”

  A flush of pink warmed her cheeks. “Thank you. I don’t remember the last time anyone said anything like that.”

  “Then I’ll remember to tell you more often,” he said, his voice pitched very low.

  He drained the last of his whiskey in one swallow and rose to his feet.

  “I should probably be off, see if I can retrieve that file. Thanks for the company, and thanks for the drink.”

  Erin stood, as well. “You’re welcome, anytime. I’d forgotten how civilized it could feel sitting and sharing a drink with someone.”

  She smiled again and Sam felt the impact of it all the way to his gut. He took a step closer to her, captured one of her hands in his and lifted it to his mouth.

  “Being civilized is vastly underrated,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet hers as his lips pressed against her skin.

  He saw her pupils dilate at his touch, her nostrils flare ever so slightly. He didn’t let go of her hand as he lifted his head, instead he pulled her closer, into the circle of his embrace. She didn’t protest, not one bit, not even when he lowered his face to hers and caught her lips with his own, relishing the sensation of her body against his.

  The round firmness of her breasts pressed against his chest, the soft swell of her belly against the firmer planes of his own, the cradle of her hips against his arousal. Sam groaned. This was crazy. Crazy and completely impossible to resist. Her mouth parted beneath his, her tongue gently flicking against his own. God, he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. He plundered her mouth, angling his head so they all but fused together.

  His hands shoved under the edge of her T-shirt, pushing the soft fabric up to expose her skin. Skin that was soft, enticing. Warm, when he’d felt cold to his very soul for so long. He lifted the garment higher, breaking their kiss only long enough to pull it over her head and to let it drop on the floor behind her.

  Erin opened her eyes and he was struck by the vulnerability he saw there in their dark brown depths. He said the first thing that came to mind.

  “I want you, Erin. Tell me to stop now and I will. Or tell me you want me, too.”

  He felt the tremors that ran through her body and took a half step back, giving her the space he thought she needed. She could turn him down. He wouldn’t hold that against her. Sure, he’d be uncomfortable, physically, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who forced himself on a beautiful woman no matter how much his desire for her threatened to consume him.

  “I…I want you, too,” she said softly.

  In fact, she’d spoken so softly he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard what he wanted, or what she’d actually meant.

  “Erin—”

  “I want you, Sam,” she said, more firmly this time. “But I don’t know what you want out of this, or from me.”

  He felt his heart squeeze. He knew exactly what she meant. They were each so raw with emotion in their own ways.

  “I don’t know either,” honesty forced him to admit. “But I do know that I’ve felt alone and empty for too long. I think you know what I mean, how it feels.” He paused and felt his pulse skip a beat when she nodded slowly, her eyes locked with his. “I think we can make that emptiness go away, for a while, together. We deserve tha
t, don’t we?”

  He watched as she pressed her lips together, as if weighing her options before giving him the answer his body begged for.

  “And in the morning?” she asked. “What then?”

  “I won’t think any less of you, Erin. I can promise you that. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since we kissed last week. I know you felt something then, just as I did. You even said it was what was right for us at the time. And so is this.”

  He took one of her hands in his and laid it flat against his chest. Could she feel his heart leaping about in there as he did? Could she feel that she did this to him? Turned him from a man intent on escaping from the world, an analytical software designer and developer, into someone who was now ruled by baser instinctive needs and emotions?

  Her fingers curled beneath his, her grip tightening on his shirt. She was shaking in earnest now. Had he pushed her too far? Destroyed the delectable closeness they’d only just begun to explore?

  “Kiss me again,” she whispered. “Make the emptiness go away.”

  Eight

  Erin felt as if she’d just stepped off a precipice, as if she was falling, falling with no idea of how hard the jolt might be when she reached the bottom. But then Sam’s lips closed on hers and she could only hope that with him her landing would be safe, secure. She wrapped her arms about his neck and let her body cleave to the length of his.

  Everything about him felt good, right. So right she wanted to drop to the carpet right here, right now, with him in her arms and explore in depth just how good it was. But she didn’t want their first time to be so elemental. Not while she still held on to at least one rational thought in her head. Instead, she broke their kiss, closing her eyes momentarily at the tiny sensation of loss that swirled through her at the lack of contact, Then, taking his hand, she led him to her bedroom.

  She’d turned the sheets down earlier and had left only a stained-glass lamp turned on at her bedside. The muted jewel-like colors cast a gentle, enticing glow about the room.

  She closed the door behind them, cocooning them in a private space in time. Somewhere they could explore the intensity of the attraction between them—the sheer need that arose every time they’d been together. A need they could plunder and delight in, and which could chase away the shadows that lingered in their hearts.

  Erin reached for Sam’s shirt, tugging it free of his jeans and forcing her shaking fingers to painstakingly undo each button from top to bottom. Inch by inch she revealed the smooth expanse of his chest, the dark nipples that were as rigid as her own, his taut belly and the fine smattering of hair that arrowed behind the waistband of his jeans. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, leaving his upper torso bare to her gaze. She looked her fill, tracing the lines of his physique with fingers that became more sure of their touch the lower they traveled.

  He gasped as she brushed her hand over the erection trapped behind his zipper. She smiled a little, enjoying the pure feminine knowledge that he was this way for her, that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. The anticipation was both a delight and a torment. They would be wonderful together, she knew that as instinctively as she knew the sun would rise each day. But just how wonderful? Would they blaze like a fiery comet through the night sky, or would they simmer and burn like a slow-growing flame?

  Her hands fumbled at his belt, and then at his zipper, carefully releasing the pressure against his arousal and easing his jeans down his long legs. In the soft lighting she caught a glimpse of a long scar running the length of Sam’s thigh and she felt a moment’s sorrow for the injury that had caused such a permanent reminder. But she didn’t linger long over the thought, instead rising once again, skimming her hands up the outside of his legs and then guiding them in toward the straining fabric of his boxer briefs. She grazed her nails over the knitted cotton, relishing the groan he emitted. His hands shot to her arms, stilling her actions.

  “Don’t let me spoil this by losing control too soon,” he growled, dragging her hands to his hips. “Besides, it’s my turn now.”

  He drifted one finger over the swell of her breasts and Erin’s skin shimmered in a scatter of goose bumps. Anticipation thrilled through her body, drawing into a tight knot deep in her belly as he traced the outside edge of her bra cup. For a split second she rued the practicality of the garment, but it was only that tiniest fraction of time before he lifted both hands to slide the straps down over her shoulders and peel the cups of her bra away, exposing her to his concentrated gaze.

  She had stretch marks, she knew. The silver striations were a badge of honor to her, but would he see them the same way or would he find them repugnant? She didn’t have time to think about the question as he flipped her bra hooks undone and cupped the weight of her in both his hands. His thumbs stroked the tight nubs of her nipples over and over.

  “May I kiss you there?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a rasp of emotion.

  “Yes.” She sighed.

  It had been so long since she’d felt like this. Like a woman desired, wanted, needed. As his lips pressed against her flesh she moaned in delight, her fingers threaded through the short strands of his hair, holding him to her, loving every second of the texture of his tongue, the reverence of his lips, the sheer joy of his touch. His broad long-fingered hands splayed across her rib cage, making her feel cherished, special. Feelings she hadn’t experienced in so long, if ever.

  Emotion threatened to overwhelm her and she dragged several rapid breaths into her aching lungs. Nothing would ruin this night. Nothing. This was what was right for them. Tonight, and hopefully for a long time to come.

  When Sam undid her jeans, she helped him peel them down her legs and kicked them aside. They were on equal terms, each dressed only in their briefs. She wasn’t sure, later, who reached for whom first, but the difference was only a matter of seconds and they were both naked. Erin let her gaze drift over his body, over the torso she’d already come to love the feel of, and hoped soon to enjoy the taste of, too, then lower, to the jutting proof of his desire for her. She slid her fingers around his hard length, relishing the hot silken feel of him. Sam caught his lower lip between his teeth, his sharply indrawn breath a hiss of sound in response to her touch.

  “Protection,” he ground out. “Let me get my jeans.”

  A small laugh bubbled from Erin’s throat. “You came prepared?” She gave him a firm squeeze and was rewarded with a rumble of pleasure.

  “Let’s just say, after last week’s kiss I thought it might pay to be.” He let a teasing smile play around his lips. “I was impressed to discover Connell Lodge really does think of everything. Now I want to return the favor.”

  His reference to their advertising catch phrase and their determination to make sure their guests would have everything they needed during a stay, made her flush with heat. Was he really saying that he was going to make sure he gave her everything she needed? A mix of desire, and something else, flooded her body. It felt good to be wanted on this level. So very good. She flipped the covers wide open on the bed and lay down on the crisp linens, her skin sensitized to the texture of the cotton against her skin. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lain naked upon the sheets like this. It felt wonderful. He made her feel wonderful.

  Sam had already sheathed himself and lowered himself to the bed beside her. He trailed one hand from her hips up over her belly to the underside of the swell of her breast, and back down again, each time letting his fingers d
rift closer to the molten core of her. She knew she was wet for him. Wet and wanting. She squirmed against the sheets, willing his hand closer, striving to feel his touch where her body most wanted it.

  When his fingers dipped between the soft folds of her flesh she strained against him and was rewarded when a faint smile crossed his so-intent face. He dipped a little deeper, applying a steady circular pressure to the bead of flesh at her center that already throbbed with an urgent beat. He leaned over her, his lips fusing once more to hers. He drew her lower lip into his mouth, suckling on the plump flesh, his tongue imitating the movement of his fingers across that oh-so-sensitive spot.

  Then shards of light speared through her, her climax hitting her body, swift and intense. A sharp keening sound escaped her throat as she rode the waves of pleasure—a pleasure so sure, so powerful that all thought abandoned her, leaving only sensation. She was still shaking in the aftermath when she felt Sam gather her to him, anchoring her to his warmth, his strength. The ultimate security of his embrace.

  Erin’s heartbeat slowly returned to normal and she became aware of the moisture on her cheeks. She’d wept when she’d orgasmed? She’d never had that kind of reaction before. Mind you, she’d never felt quite like…that before.

  “You okay?” Sam asked, his voice deep and steady.

  “You have no idea,” she said, shifting so she could smile at him, reassure him that there was no sorrow in the tears she’d unknowingly spent.

  Erin cupped his face with her hand and stroked away his concern. In that second, she knew she’d fallen irrevocably in love with Sam Thornton. It wasn’t the pleasure he’d brought her, although that was so welcome she wondered if she could ever settle for less. But it was his care, his consideration. Everything about him made her warm inside. A precious sensation, indeed, after months of being in the cold. Of functioning simply because she had to.