Finally he touched her nipple, one finger gliding over the silky material of her bra. She sucked in her breath and arched against him, her fingers clenching on his back.
Slipping his hand underneath the barrier of her bra, he cupped her breast in his hand. It was perfect, just like the rest of her. Silky and firm, it filled his hand completely. Rolling her nipple in his fingers, he covered her mouth with his and drank in her small moans.
She was moving against him frantically, her hips rolling and lifting, pressing to get closer to him. Her hands scrabbled at his back, trying to pull his polo shirt out of his jeans. He could feel her fingers trembling as she caressed his tense muscles, her hands kneading and testing, fluttering down his spine and back up again.
He had never wanted a woman this much, not even as a randy teenager when he could think of nothing but sex. Closing his eyes, he shuddered with the effort to control himself. It almost took more strength than he possessed to stop himself from stripping off her clothes and plunging into her right here on the couch in her waiting room.
She deserved better than this. He repeated the words over and over until he felt his trembling slow and some spark of reason catch in his brain. When he made love with Sarah, it would be in a bed and they would have hours to explore each other. It wouldn't be on a couch in a public place, where anyone passing by the window could glance in and see them.
And they would make love. Even though every instinct he possessed screamed at him to run as far and as fast as he could, he knew he couldn't run from Sarah just yet. She was an obsession burning into his soul.
He knew she'd felt his withdrawal, because she tried to pull away from him. Sitting up, he pulled her close and held on while she tried to stand up.
"Don't, Sarah. Let me hold you for a moment."
Bending her head, she refused to look at him. Her wavy red hair fell forward and covered her face, and he gently pushed it behind her ear. Her cheeks were bright pink.
Pulling her onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the feel of her soft bottom pressing into his groin. This wasn't the time or the place, he repeated to himself almost desperately.
"Sarah, look at me." When she ignored him, he took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him.
"I didn't think you wanted to make love in your waiting room," he said gently. "That's why I stopped."
A fresh wave of red washed her cheeks as she looked at the window and realized anyone could have seen them. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what I was thinking of."
"I have a pretty good idea." He bent to kiss the side of her neck and felt himself stirring again. "It's probably the same thing I've been thinking about ever since I opened my eyes in your exam room."
"I'm sorry, Connor," she said at last. "I'm not usually … like this," she finished lamely. "I don't … I mean I haven't…"
"Hush. I know. This was the last thing I was thinking about when I came back here. But I can't think of anything but you."
He saw her fighting tears. Finally she burst out, "I feel so guilty, so disloyal!" She turned to look at him, tears spiking her eyelashes and making them even blacker. "I've hated you for twelve years. Now I feel like I should hate myself for the way I feel."
His arms tightened around her almost involuntarily, then he set her aside and stood up. "I want you, Sarah. I won't try to make you think otherwise. You're the last woman I should want, but that doesn't seem to make any difference. I can't promise forever. I can't even promise next week. You know why I'm here, and as soon as I get my answers I'll be leaving."
He looked at her, for once not trying to disguise the longing and need in his eyes. "But I've never felt this way about any other woman. No one has ever obsessed me the way you do. I want you, and I'm not going to deny it. I stopped just now because I didn't want to do anything to embarrass you. Next time I might not be able to be so strong." He watched her, wanting nothing more than to carry her upstairs and finish what they'd started. "Remember that, Sarah."
She stood and stared at him for what seemed like hours. Then, without a word, she turned and walked up the stairs. He stood for a long time, watching the place where she'd disappeared.
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
Sarah stood beside Connor at the edge of the park just outside of town and felt the tension slowly coil tighter and tighter. Most of the town was gathered for their annual summer picnic, and she saw his gaze drift from group to group. The smell of grilling hot dogs and chicken drifted on the breeze, and the shouts of children echoed from the trees over by the playground.
She hadn't said anything more to him about the picnic beyond stopping at his room and asking him again if he wanted to go with her. He'd said yes and they'd walked the five or six blocks to the park in a charged silence.
She'd avoided him since their encounter earlier that morning, hiding in her apartment and making up a whole list of chores that absolutely had to be done that day. She'd known it was cowardly, but she just couldn't bring herself to face him yet.
Disturbed and still guilty about the passion that had burned between them, she'd decided she had to avoid him until she'd had a chance to think about what had happened and figure out a logical reason for it.
The explanation that had crept into her mind while she was scrubbing her kitchen floor had been immediately dismissed. There was no way she could be falling in love with Connor MacCormac. Love was a gradual emotion. You came to love a person slowly, after getting to know him, weighing all his good and bad points, and making a rational decision about your future together.
It wasn't this passion that took control of your life, stealing all your logic and reason and turning you into a quivering mass of jelly. You didn't fall in love with the man you'd blamed for your sister's death for twelve long years. Guilt washed through her again, and she said silently, Forgive me, Barb.
Aloud she said, "There's Jenna and Danny. Let's go and say hello."
As they walked toward the woman and child, Connor said abruptly, "Tell me about her."
She looked at him warily, and he smiled. "I'm not interested in her, Sarah." His voice deepened as he added in a whisper, "I thought I explained that to you earlier."
Blushing, she looked at where her friend stood unpacking a picnic basket. "Jenna's wonderful. She's the kindest, most thoughtful person in Pine Butte and one of my closest friends."
"Why couldn't she take her son's kitten to the vet?"
She glanced over at him, surprised. She had no idea he'd picked up on that. "She doesn't have a lot of money," she said carefully. "She couldn't afford to take the clay off to go to the vet or pay the bill."
"What does her husband do?"
"Her husband left her when Danny was a year old. She hasn't heard from him since." She didn't bother to hide the fury she always felt when she thought about Sonny Franklin. "Jenna works in the grocery store. She has enough money to take care of herself and Danny, but it doesn't extend to extras like big vet bills."
She saw him clench his jaw. "How could a man abandon his wife and child like that?"
She turned to him, her gaze locking with his. He was waiting for her to say something about Barb, she realized. She saw it in his eyes, the way he braced himself for her sharp, cutting remark. But the words died on her lips.
Was she really choosing to believe this man over her own sister? No longer willing to look at him, afraid he would be able to read the longing in her eyes, she looked away. She let her gaze drift over the crowd. "Let's go get a hot dog," she said finally. "I'm starving." She didn't want to talk to anyone right now.
Before she could move away, he put his hand on her arm. She froze, feeling a jolt of awareness sizzle through her.
"Wait a minute, Sarah."
She turned slowly, afraid to look at him. His gaze burned into her until she reluctantly met his eyes.
"I didn't abandon Barb and it wasn't my child," he
said, his voice low. "There's no way I can prove it to you. You're just going to have to decide whether you believe me."
There was no deceit in his eyes, just a steady flame that never flickered as she stared at him. She believed him, she realized with a sudden flood of guilt and despair. God help her, she did.
Barb's face rose up in front of her, contorted with agony as she lay dying on the back seat of their old car. And now Sarah imagined that her dying sister looked at her with disappointment, as well. How could she betray her sister this way? How could she believe the words of the man her sister had accused of abandoning her over the words of her own sister?
"I don't think this is the time or place for this discussion," she said, pulling away from him. Smoothing her palms down the flowered skirt she wore, she tried to hide the trembling in her hands. She could salvage a little of her pride as long as he didn't realize how he affected her.
"Besides—" she looked at him and forced herself to smile "—this is supposed to be a day for fun. Can you forget about everything else and just enjoy yourself?"
He simply stared at her for a moment. "Let's go get that hot dog," he said abruptly, and took her elbow as they began to walk.
As they threaded their way through clusters of people gathered around picnic tables, she saw heads turn and watch them pass. Chin high, she nodded and smiled to everyone who looked at them. One man called out, "Afternoon, Sarah, MacCormac."
Beside her she felt Connor tense again. He turned and looked at the man who'd spoken, and finally nodded. "Hi, Bill. Good to see you again."
There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in Connor's voice, and Sarah darted a look at Bill Winston, the man who'd spoken. He nodded deliberately to Connor, then turned to his family. She hadn't seen an ounce of malice or dislike in his face. Apparently Connor hadn't, either, because she felt him relax just a bit beside her.
Several other people greeted them as they wound their way past picnic tables and blankets spread out on the grass. Connor responded each time, cool and distant, although he seemed to remember a lot of names. By the time they had reached the bank of grills where members of the town council were busy turning hot dogs and chicken, she'd almost convinced herself they would get through the day without a confrontation.
After buying a piece of chicken and a hot dog for each of them, Connor turned to Sarah. "Do you think Jenna Franklin has had a chance to buy a hot dog for Danny yet?"
"Probably not. They looked like they'd just gotten here." He handed her their two plates and asked for two more, and as she watched him she felt the last resistance in her heart melt away. He'd noticed the worry that shadowed Jenna's too-serious eyes when they talked about taking Misty to the vet. And after what Sarah had told him about the Franklins, Connor knew darned well that Jenna wouldn't be buying a hot dog for Danny or chicken for herself.
But he wouldn't embarrass her friend by playing the lord bountiful, either, she realized as they walked up to where Jenna and Danny sat on a blanket on the grass. Dropping down next to them, he handed the plates to Jenna and said easily, "We managed to get to the grills when there was a lull in the crowd, so I grabbed stuff for you and Danny, too. I didn't figure you'd want to fight the people and try to hold onto a wriggling kid at the same time."
Jenna stared at the plates and then glanced at the few people standing in line for food. She opened her mouth to object, then looked at her son's face. Danny was gazing at Connor with adoration.
"Thank you, Mr. Cormac," the child said.
"You're welcome, Danny."
"Yes, thank you, Mr. MacCormac. I was just waiting until the line got smaller." She reached behind her for her purse, but Connor raised his hand.
"Forget it, Jenna. It was my pleasure. And my name is Connor."
Jenna paused, her hand still on her purse, then she released her grip and slowly smiled at him. "Thank you, Connor," she whispered. "Danny was looking forward to a hot dog."
A look that spoke volumes passed between the two adults, and Sarah felt her heart expand until she thought it would leap out of her chest.
Leaning back and picking up a piece of chicken, Connor deliberately changed the subject. "How's Misty feeling?" he asked Danny.
"She's still very sad." The child frowned, then his eyes brightened. "But she likes her medicine."
Connor nodded thoughtfully. "It's a very big job, taking care of a sick kitten. But I think you can handle it."
"Oh, I can," Danny reassured him. "I made her a bed in my room and covered her with my favorite blanket."
"Sarah and I will stop by tomorrow and check on her, okay?"
"She'll be all better by then." The boy nodded confidently.
"Maybe not all better," Connor said gently. "But I'll bet she'll be eating a little."
Tenderness washed through Sarah as she watched him talk to Danny. He knew exactly what to say to the child. He'd be a wonderful father someday.
Stop it, she told herself vehemently, banishing the fantasies of a happy family from her mind. Connor had made it more than clear he wasn't staying in Pine Butte a second longer than it took to find out what had happened to his father.
A feeling of utter desolation and loss swept over her, and for a second she thought about leaving Pine Butte with Connor. They could travel together, she thought. All the faraway places she wanted to visit, all the exotic sights she'd been reading about for years tumbled through her head. Freedom danced in front of her, close enough to touch.
Slowly she opened her eyes and looked again at Connor. Munching on a piece of barbecued chicken, he looked out over the crowd and assessed it with thoughtful eyes.
This particular fantasy certainly had no basis in reality. Even if she was willing to abandon the town of Pine Butte, Connor had never even hinted that he wanted her to leave with him.
Danny's giggles interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up, startled, to see Connor waving a hand in front of her face and grinning.
"What planet were you visiting?" he teased.
She smiled bleakly. "One that hasn't been discovered yet."
His smile fading, he settled back and stared at her. Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she jumped to her feet.
"Let's go walk around. You never know who we may run into."
Unfolding his long legs, he stood up and watched her for a moment. She glanced away, pretending to look around the picnic ground. Those bright blue eyes of his would see right into her heart and dissect all her secrets if she wasn't careful.
"Are we looking for anyone in particular?" he finally asked after they'd said goodbye to the Franklins.
She shrugged, still pretending to scan the crowd. "Not really. I just thought you wanted to mingle and pick up, uh, vibrations."
"I'm picking up vibrations, all right. From you. What's wrong?" he asked bluntly.
"Nothing's wrong," she answered, still not meeting his eyes. I'm afraid that I'm falling in love with you, and that you're going to break my heart. Other than that, things are just peachy. "I'm just looking for someone who might be able to help you."
She moved a step away from him, only to stop dead in her tracks when his fingers curled around her arm.
"What's bothering you, Sarah? And don't say nothing," he warned, "because I know better."
Her gaze scanned the crowd frantically. She didn't want to have this discussion at all, let alone in public. "Look, there's Tom and Mary Johnson. You remember him, don't you? The sheriff? He talked to you the morning after you were hurt."
"Yeah, I remember him." Connor looked away from Sarah reluctantly and glanced over to where the Johnsons sat on a blanket with their two children. He hadn't heard a word from Tom Johnson since the morning after his accident when he'd told the sheriff he'd suspected someone had run him off the road deliberately.
"Let's go say hello."
She was already moving away from him. He hadn't missed the relief on her face. She'd have hurried toward anyone right now, even her uncle. Frowning at Sarah's back, he slowly fol
lowed her.
She'd dropped down onto the blanket and was talking animatedly to a thin-faced, pale woman who held a toddler on her lap. As he stood looming over both the women, Sarah looked up at him.
For just a moment, she forgot to shield her face. Her eyes softened when they met his, and something unbearably tender lurked in their sea-colored depths. Then she blinked, and the mask was in place again.
But he hadn't mistaken that look. His heart pounded and his chest tightened. Impossible as it might seem, apparently the desire he felt for her was mutual.
He refused to call it anything other than desire. He didn't believe in anything more than that. There was no such thing as love and happily ever after. Two people had a mutual itch, they scratched it and that was that. He refused to make it more complicated.
Except with Sarah, it had been more complicated than that from the very beginning.
"Do you remember Tom Johnson?" Sarah's low voice asked.
"Of course." He extended his hand and gripped the sheriff's firmly. "How're you doing?"
The short, stocky man shrugged. "Pretty well." He glanced around nervously. "You enjoying our town picnic?"
"So far. Whoever's in charge cooks a mean chicken." He nodded at the two small children. "Are your kids having fun?"
Tom licked his lips and nodded. "Mary can barely keep up with them, the way they run around." He glanced over at her. "She has to hold them down to get any rest."
Connor looked at the woman and noticed that she did look exhausted. The little boy in her lap suddenly jumped up and ran off, and he realized why. She was in the advanced stages of pregnancy.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Tom had quickly jumped up to chase after his son. The expression of relief that flitted across his face set Connor's antennae quivering, but he was suddenly distracted by the woman in front of him struggling to stand up.
He jumped to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. When her hand curled around his, he felt the swelling in her fingers and wrist. Studying her face, he realized that she was, indeed, too thin for this far along in her pregnancy. Glancing down, he saw what he'd expected. Her feet were swollen almost out of her shoes.
AN INNOCENT MAN Page 14