LITTLE MISS INNOCENT?

by Lori Foster

  “Yes, Daniel, I’m aware of that.” She sounded ragged, her voice trembling. “It would be a difficult thing for me to miss.”

  Damn difficult for him to miss, too. Why hadn’t she told him? Various reasons presented themselves, but he couldn’t seem to grasp a single one. “Lace…”

  “Not now, Daniel!”

  She moved, pressing back against him, demanding his attention—as if she didn’t already have it. And he groaned, rational thought completely beyond him, his wits successfully scattered by the tight, rhythmic clasp of her body. He held her hips and thrust himself completely into her, reveling in her groans, her awkward attempts to counter his movements.

  No man had ever held her this way. No man had ever touched her as he had.

  The truth pounded through his brain, through his heart. His body seemed to pulse with physical and emotional sensations, combining to destroy his strength and thought. On some subconscious level, he remained aware of her recent hurts and moderated his thrusts, careful not to add to her injury. She cried out, first in low groans, then increasing, each sound, each small whimper, driving him higher until he knew he wouldn’t last, until he was lost and there was no hope for it, no pulling back.

  He covered her breasts with his palms, lightly bit her shoulder and muffled his hoarse shout against her soft, fragrant skin as he shuddered out his release.

  After a moment his weight caused her to collapse. Daniel rolled onto his back, his arms wide, his legs numb, his body still pulsing in pleasurable throbs of aftershock.

  He became aware of Lace moving beside him, of her watching him curiously. “You’re not going to do something stupid like fall asleep, are you?”

  Grinning was a feat requiring more strength than he presently owned. “No. Rest.”

  Lace smacked his shoulder. “Why did you quit?”

  He cocked one eye open and found her looming over him. “I was done.” He meant done for, shot, incapable of breathing, much less moving, but she didn’t take it that way.

  She leaned down until her nose almost touched his. “Well, I wasn’t done!”

  “I know. Sorry.” He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to laugh. “Let me catch my breath and I’ll show the … depth of my atonement for leaving you.”

  “Humph!”

  She started to leave the bed, but he caught her arm and tugged her back down. “Don’t be angry, Lace. I said I’ll make it up to you.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t look at me as if I have evil intents on your fair person.” Now he did chuckle. The absurd humor of the situation did much to revive him. She scowled, started to speak, and he kissed her. A real kiss, using all his expertise, intent on showing her just how good they could be together.

  And Lace, unfulfilled, her body still warm and trembling, melted like an ice cube in the August sun.

  Daniel kissed her until she clutched at him, until her nails dug into his flesh, until her body moved against his in need. He slid down her body, to her breasts and her still rosy, puckered nipples. He nipped and licked and praised her for her deep, throaty moans, given without artifice, without holding back. His tongue flicked over the tip of her nipple and she cried out, pulling him closer. He suckled her until her hips jerked upward, seeking him, her need as strong as his own.

  “You’re so beautiful, Lace.”

  This time she didn’t tease him about the compliment. She whimpered, her body damp with a fine sheen of sweat. He kissed her belly and she writhed beneath him as he moved lower, lower. When he parted her with his thumbs and covered her with his mouth, she returned his praise in breathless words and seductive sounds, begging for more, and he gave it to her.

  Without hesitation, in halting gasps, she told him what she liked, and in the middle of a muttered, nearly incoherent sentence of unnecessary instruction, she reached her peak, gasping, her body taut and her scent strong. She gave a muffled scream, and he loved it, thrilled with her response, and his obvious success. Daniel held her steady and continued to kiss and lick and stroke her until she went limp and her moans faded to soft, satisfied sighs.

  He’d never taken so much pleasure in his ability to make love. He felt like crowing, like writing his own damn book—which could sit beside Lace’s on the shelf. He gathered her close and stroked her back, her injured bottom. He felt the edge of the scar there, and wanted to kiss it. He kissed her open mouth instead, and smiled when she didn’t so much as pucker. Breathing seemed to require all her concentration.

  He was almost asleep, his brain finally at rest since the first time he’d met her, his body appeased, when suddenly Lace leaned up and her small fist thumped hard against his chest.

  Here we go again, he thought, and opened his eyes in question.

  “You miserable fraud! You rotten cretin! You know exactly what you’re about, don’t you?”

  His chest swelled with pride; he felt like the Cheshire cat, his grin was so huge. “Actually, yes, I have been known to gain a compliment or two.”

  Her eyes narrowed to mere slits and she started to hit him again, but he caught her wrist. “Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  Her eyes nearly crossed in her rage. “Dammit, Daniel—”

  He interrupted, energy surging back into his body. “What about you, Lace? A damned virgin? I almost had heart failure!”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  She didn’t mean it, he thought, feeling his own annoyance grow. “If you want to know, I was too busy listening to you beg me to—”

  She slapped her hand over his mouth. “I never begged.”

  He grinned, removing her hand. “Yeah, you did. And I enjoyed every word.”

  She jerked away from him. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel. You lied to me.”

  True enough, but as far as he was concerned, the point was moot at this stage. He didn’t want to fight. “Lace, we’ve both been less than honest, don’t you think?”

  “I never lied to you! You drew your own ridiculous conclusions. But you deliberately deceived me.”

  Leaning up on one elbow, he growled, “My conclusions weren’t that ridiculous based on how you behaved around me. You came on to me constantly, Lace, with no show of discretion, despite the fact you knew I didn’t want you.”

  “Ha! You wanted me all right. At least be honest about that.”

  He couldn’t very well deny it, given that even now, he was getting hard again. They were on top of the quilt, both naked, and his renewed interest was more than obvious if the woman bothered to look down. He shrugged. “Yeah, but I did my best to hide it.”

  “Now that’s a fact I know all too well.” She looked at him with distaste. “You spend so much time hiding, from yourself and everyone else, it’s a wonder your patients can ever find you.”

  “At least I own an ounce or two of propriety.”

  “Which translated, means I do not? Well, let me tell you something, Danny. I may have encouraged your stupid assumptions, but only because you made me so mad, always acting like you were better than me.”

  Quietly, his guilt strong, he said, “I never said that.”

  “But you thought it. It scares you to death that Annie and I are friends.”

  He felt lost, no sensible argument coming to his aid. Going on the defensive seemed his only recourse, and he did, summoning up his best show of umbrage. “Lace, how can you possibly be a virgin?”

  “Simple.” She curled her lip in a credible sneer and glared at him. “All I’ve ever met are jerks like you.”

  “So why did you sleep with me, Lace?” As he spoke, he trailed his fingertips down her arm and watched goose bumps rise in the wake. Ha! Regardless of what the woman would like him to believe, she wasn’t immune to him. Not by a long shot.

  That fact filled him with intense male satisfaction.

  Lace scooted off the bed, then pulled back the coverlet and climbed beneath, pulling it up to her chin. Daniel enjoyed her antics, consoling himself over the loss of her nudity by the fact
that she hadn’t left the room or even the bed. She’d only grown tired of his overly interested gaze.

  Sighing, he came to his feet beside the bed. He felt Lace watching him, her gaze warm and full of curiosity. He was still half hard, but he supposed they had to talk before they could proceed further.

  The late afternoon light barely shone through his frost-covered window. Outside, a tree branch heavy with snow scraped the side of the house, moved by the winter wind. And in his bed, huddled under his covers with an adorable show of belated modesty, was the most appealing, most complex and intriguing woman he’d ever met. He stood by the side of the bed and slipped on his glasses; he wanted to see her clearly, to make certain he didn’t miss a single thing about this very special moment in time. Then he propped his hands on his naked hips.

  Lace’s gaze skittered away, then back again. She licked her lips. “Why don’t you put something on?”

  “Answer my question, Lace.”

  Tightening her grip on the quilt, she glared up at him in defiance. “Why shouldn’t I have slept with you?” She waved a dismissive hand at his body. “You’re available, attractive and even you had to have noticed the sexual chemistry between us.”

  “I’m not buying it, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “You didn’t complain earlier.”

  Heat blossomed in her cheeks. “I wasn’t myself then.”

  Laughing, he sat on the edge of the bed and nicked the tip of her nose. “Whoever you were, I liked you. Hell, I still like you. Don’t you like me just a bit?”

  “No.”

  “Tsk, tsk. You shouldn’t lie, Lace. A few hours ago I might have believed you. But not now. Now I know just how discriminating you’ve been all your life. And I know a little thing like sexual chemistry wouldn’t have changed anything if you’d truly despised me.”

  “Well, there’s where you’re wrong. I’d never felt it before, so how could I help but respond to it?”

  He wondered if she had any idea how her words affected him, how territorial they made him feel. He moved closer to her, propping his back on the headboard and tugging her close despite her resistance. “Just let me hold you, Lace. That is what men and women do after sex, you know.” He paused, struck by his words. “Come to think of it, you wouldn’t know, would you? But it’s true. They hold each other.”

  “Not always.” She tried to wiggle away, but when he held on, she relented and plopped back against him. “I know more about sex than you ever will, Daniel. I’ve been studying it my entire adult life. And what you say isn’t at all true. Sometimes, after sex, the man just gets up and walks away.”

  “Or the woman.”

  She shrugged, a nonverbal agreement. Daniel enjoyed the feel of her at his side, the plump softness of her breast pressed into his ribs, the silkiness of her hair against his chin. He kissed her crown and breathed in her scent.

  He was aware of her thinking, considering everything that had happened. He didn’t know what conclusions she’d drawn, and it bothered him. “Lace?”

  Her sigh was one of disgust. “Honesty forces me to admit that there are a few select times when I suppose I like you a little.”

  He burst out laughing. “So fulsome with your compliments.” She leaned her cheek against his chest and his arms tightened. “Well? When do you like me? Or is the situation so rare, you can’t even remember anymore?”

  “I remember.” Her voice had turned soft, gentle. “When you’re with Annie. You’re so careful with her and it’s obvious how much you care for her, how close the two of you are. It’s a wonderful thing to witness. And Max, how you deal with him, though sometimes you are so blind I want to smack you. But other times, I can see how Max respects you, and he’s a good man, mostly because of you.”

  He felt touched to his soul by her praise.

  “Sometimes when I’m at the hospital with my own work, or meeting Annie there, I see you with a patient, and you have that intense, concentrated look on your face because you care so much.”

  Here she was, waxing eloquent on his sterling character, and he thought of all the times he’d put her down, judged her harshly. He’d been an idiot, a complete fool.

  And he’d dug himself into a hole so deep, it would take him a while to work his way out.

  His hand smoothed over her hip, toward her bottom. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  Her nose bumped his nipple as she shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Lace?” He wanted her again, right now, this time with no games between them. He cupped her chin and started to tilt her face up. But she slipped away.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m still mad at you, Dr. Sawyers. What you did was reprehensible. Will you take me home, or should I call a cab?”

  *

  Eight

  « ^ »

  “Do you see Santa Claus out there, or are you just avoiding Daniel?”

  Lace turned, smiling at Guy Donovan as he stepped up beside her at the dark window. She’d been staring out, daydreaming, feeling vaguely discontent. She welcomed the interruption to her thoughts. “It’s a beautiful sight, with all the snow on the trees and the twinkling lights everywhere. I love Daniel’s house, especially how it’s situated here among all the trees.”

  Daniel’s house had a homey, lived-in look, for a bachelor. The furniture, though dark and heavy, was comfortable and functional. And he’d hung prints on all the walls and set photos of his family everywhere. The house was one floor with a large basement and a spacious yard that abutted the woods in back and a narrow creek on one side; it was a house meant for a family, for kids.

  Resting his long lanky body against the wall, Guy crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. “This house is fine. But Daniel should have kept his family home after his father moved out, instead of me living there. But the memories are too tough for him to deal with.”

  “I know.” Daniel had already explained to her that Guy agreed to live in the family home, since Annie and Max had both taken apartments, and Daniel didn’t want it. And like Daniel, his father avoided the house and the memories. All too often, it seemed, he avoided his children as well. Any reminder of his wife, especially at the holidays, was more than he wanted to deal with. Lace understood that, and how difficult it was for Daniel. “Daniel remembers his mother better than Max or Annie do.”

  “I remember her, too,” Guy said. “She was a fantastic lady. Unlike Daniel, I like the reminders, seeing little things every day that bring back the memories. They’re good memories. I practically grew up in that house, and I think it’s important to keep it around, for Annie’s and Max’s sake.”

  “You and Daniel have been friends a long time.”

  A smile spread over Guy’s face, and for the first time Lace noticed how handsome he was. With his ruthlessly short hair, rangy walk and sloppy attire, he’d always seemed inconspicuous enough.

  Even now, at Daniel’s Christmas get-together, Guy was dressed in a loose flannel shirt over a faded gray T-shirt with jeans that had seen better days. And his hair, short as it was, still managed to stick out at odd angles.

  He ran his hand over that hair, demonstrating for Lace how such a style was possible, then nodded. “We’ve known each other since grade school. He’s like a brother to me.” His gaze scanned the room beyond them, and as Annie came into sight, her snug red dress hugging the curves of her body, Lace saw Guy stiffen and scowl.

  Distracted, keeping his gaze on Annie, he muttered, “The Sawyers are like family, Max and Annie included.”

  Annie laughed at something Max said, swatted at her brother and moved out of view.

  Guy gave his attention back to Lace. “I’m glad you came today. Annie enjoys your company and she needs more friends, to get out more often. She’s been kind of strange lately.”

  Despite her resolve to forget Daniel’s perfidy, Lace asked, “You’re not worried about me corrupting her?”

  “Annie? Ha! She has a will of iron and
more stubbornness than her two brothers combined. Even as a baby, she could get her way on any and every little thing. No, Annie will always do exactly as she pleases, and she couldn’t possibly be influenced by anyone to be other than what she wants to be. Usually a pain in the neck.”

  Lace looked back out the window. Snow on Christmas Day was supposed to be a magical thing. She felt anything but magical. Since that illfated day when she and Daniel had made love, she hadn’t been able to think straight. She wanted to stay away from him, because she knew he was dangerous, both to her heart and her beliefs.

  But he’d made her feel things she’d never imagined, and she wanted to feel them again. Even now, being in his home and hearing the music, the laughter and easy, casual conversation, made her crave things she had never wanted before. She wondered where her mother was, what she was doing and who she was with. She wondered if her mother had liked the vase, or if she’d even gotten the gift yet.

  Lace swallowed and took another sip of her punch. Without her mind’s permission, the words came out. “Daniel doesn’t want me anywhere around his sister. He doesn’t even want me around Max.”

  Guy tilted his head, considering that. “He’s always been overprotective of Annie. He lost his mother, and he’s afraid of losing her, too. Plus, he doesn’t think any man is good enough for her, and he can’t quite reconcile himself to the fact that Annie has grown up, that she’s a woman now, and men might want her. It’s easier to blame you than to accept that things are changing. As far as Max is concerned, he’s just jealous.”

  Lace nearly dropped her cup of punch. “Jealous? Why in heaven’s name would he be jealous of Max?”

  “Lace.” Guy shook his head, looking down at her with a chastising frown. “You’re not naive. You have to know Daniel wants you. But he thinks Max wants you, too. Hell, he thinks every man wants you, and it makes him nuts. That’s the main reason he’s so rude, you know. Not because he doesn’t like you, but because he doesn’t want every other man liking you.”

  Lace thought about the possibility of what he said. Obviously Guy had no idea that she and Daniel had already gotten past the hostility, however brief their truce had been. How could he know? Since that day, they’d hardly spoken without bickering. Daniel was irritated that she wouldn’t see the reasoning behind his deception—even though he hadn’t given her a good reason. And Lace simply wanted to avoid losing herself to a man who disdained her very existence, who was ashamed to admit he wanted her.