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Jake's head throbbed when he woke up, but not nearly as badly as it had the night before. He'd seen the worry in Sara's eyes. He'd been worried himself. He never got sick!
Suddenly, he remembered the nightmare. An old one. More than the nightmare, he remembered Sara's hand on his back. He'd almost shrugged her away but it had felt so good…calming. He'd almost stopped breathing when she'd brushed the hair from his neck, when she'd kissed him. Had that been a dream? His overactive libido working even in his sleep? He'd watched her resting in that chair and as bad as he'd felt become aroused by it.
She'd fought to take care of him last night. Why? Did he dare believe she really cared? That she hadn't come back into his life for convenience or to make her life easier? Why hadn't she fought like that four years ago? Why hadn't she stood her ground and told him she was pregnant? If she'd loved him, she would have. If she'd loved him...
Damn! He was getting sucked in all over again because of a little kindness. He'd better get his guard back up and fast. He hated feeling weak. He hated feeling defenseless. Must be the flu.
The door to his room opened and Sara came in carrying a tray. Christopher was right behind her but waited at the threshold. She smiled at Jake. "He wanted to make sure for himself that you're all right."
Jake mustered up the best smile he could. "I'm getting better. But you'd better stay clear until I can come downstairs. I don't want you getting sick."
His son's brown eyes got wider. "Mom says Thanksgivin's soon. You gonna be okay then?"
Thanksgiving was only ten days away. "I'm sure I'll be fine until then."
Sara said, "Play in your room for a few minutes till I take your dad's temperature."
"Okay." Christopher scampered off.
"He's a good kid."
"And a better patient than you are." She held out the thermometer to him. "Here. You can have breakfast after you take it."
This time he didn't argue with her. The scrambled eggs looked light enough to float down his throat and his stomach rumbled.
She laughed. "Good. You have an appetite."
He had an appetite for more than her food.
Jake checked the thermometer before he gave it to her. "It's only 99. I'm better already. Good thing, too. I have calls to make, paperwork to go through..."
"Jake Donovan, don't you even think about stepping out of this room, let alone bringing work up here. If you don't behave today, I'll call Nathan."
Jake couldn't suppress his smile. "And just what do you think Nathan's going to do?"
"Sit on you if he has to. There's no reason you can't stay in bed and relax today. I called Gillian and she said she'll be in, and she'll handle any emergencies that come up."
"You had no right to--"
"Tell her her partner was a little under the weather? I don't need rights to do that. A secretary would have done the same thing."
Sara was right. He didn't know why he was being so argumentative. Maybe because she was invading every area of his life, and he felt crowded. After a lengthy pause, he asked, "Truce?"
She smiled. "Does that mean I don't have to call Nathan?"
"It means I appreciate everything you did for me last night."
Today, Sara wore jeans and a T-shirt that were every bit as appealing as the caftan that had swirled around her last night. Her smile slipping away, she came closer. "You had a nightmare last night. Do you remember it?"
Jake blanked out the pictures that were ready to flood his head. "Yes. It's the same one I always have. The car in flames, Mary Beth screaming..."
"It might help if you talked about it."
Jake hadn't talked about it to anyone, except when he'd told Sara about it, then Nathan and Gillian. "There isn't anything to talk about. Davie died and it was my fault."
"Jake, you can't still believe that."
"The bomb was in my car, meant for me. It was my fault. If that had been Christopher, you'd blame me, too."
She sat on the bed next to him and covered his hand with hers. "Are you so sure of that? Your loss was as great as your wife's. I can see how much you love Christopher. I can imagine how much you loved Davie. Some thug killed your son. You have to forgive yourself for being a cop then, or you'll never have any peace."
The pain in Jake's chest became so great, his throat tightened painfully. Sara's hand on his was like a lifeline, a way out of the pain. He studied their hands. She couldn't be his lifeline. He couldn't need her that much. If he did, and she left, too...
Sara looked at him with such compassion, he wanted to pull her down beside him on the bed, kiss her rosy lips, stroke her soft skin, breathe in every part of her. His pulse thudded and so did his head, bringing him back to reality with a jolt.
He reached for the tray she'd set at the foot of the bed. "I'd better get started on the eggs. If you have things to do downstairs, don't worry about me. I'll remember to take more aspirin in a few hours." Knowing he sounded gruff, he settled the tray on his lap.
Sara stood. "I'll check in a little while if you need anything. But I won't bother you if you're resting."
When she left his room, he wanted to call her back. But he didn't know what he'd say if he did. So he kept silent.
#
The following evening, Sara reached for Christopher's block at the same time as Jake. Their fingers brushed and the heat between them had nothing to do with the blaze in the living room fireplace. Jake's gaze had been on her all evening, as if he was trying to figure something out. They both chose a different block to add to their son's architectural masterpiece that was about ready to topple over. When Jake had awakened this morning, his fever had disappeared. He'd worked with Gillian in their office most of the day. By supper, he'd looked tired but his complexion now had the ruddy color of renewed health.
Suddenly, Christopher's building collapsed on the coffee table. The three-year-old just giggled. "Do it again."
Sara glanced at her watch. "Nope. It's time for bed."
Glancing first at Jake and then at his mother, he accepted her verdict. "Can Daddy read two stories tonight?"
Christopher had missed Jake while he was gone and the two days he'd been sick. Sara waited for Jake to answer.
"Help me gather up the blocks, then we'll pick out two books."
A smile lit Sara's heart. Jake was getting good at handling Christopher.
She enjoyed the ritual of putting their son to bed. It was a time when she felt closest to Jake. But tonight, even while he was reading with Christopher nestled in his lap, she felt his gaze on her now and then in the same searching way.
After they'd tucked in their son and Sara preceded Jake down the stairs, she wondered what was coming. Sitting on the sofa, she waited.
Jake crossed to the fireplace and stared into the leaping fire. When he finally turned and looked at her, she felt she could go up in flames as easily as the extra kindling laying on the hearth. "I've been thinking about what you said, about going back to school. If that's what you want to do, it's all right with me. Do you want me to pay for it, or will you use the proceeds from the land in Arizona?"
His question took her aback. "I'd like to save that money for Christopher's education."
"From what you've said, it'll probably be a drop in the bucket. Besides, he won't need it. I'll be paying for his education."
"Both of us have the responsibility for his education. Both of us should be working together for all of our needs."
"Because California's a community property state?" His brown eyes were unreadable.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine?"
She hadn't really thought about all that. "Yes, I guess. Though the land in Arizona might not sell for a while...if ever."
"It could be a very long while," Jake agreed, still giving nothing away.
"I don't know what you're getting at, Jake. It's a little late for a prenuptial agreement. I'm surprised you didn't have
Nathan draw one up before the wedding." She couldn't keep the hurt from her voice. Standing so she'd feel as if she were on more equal footing, she tried to keep her voice calm. "I have a job at the day care center if I want it, but you don't want me to work while Christopher's at home. I'd like to go back to school, yet you're going to resent paying for it. Do I have that right?"
Jake mowed his hand through his hair, a sure sign of frustration. "No, I won't resent paying for it, not if we're working toward the same goal of building a life together."
What in heavens name did he think she was trying to do if not build a life with him? The suspicion he'd voiced before hit her with renewed force. "Do you still think I married you for security?"
He came closer to her, almost within touching distance. She could smell the trace of aftershave he'd used that morning, could see the shadow line of his beard, could feel the tension in his body as all that was past, present and maybe future vibrated between them.
His eyes darkened as he said, "I think you were tired of trying to make ends meet, tired of working and trying to give Christopher attention at the same time, tired of not capturing your dream. Marrying me solved all your problems."
The spark of anger inside her flared. She was tired of his suspicions, tired of feeling as if she was guilty of some terrible wrong. "Solved them? Let me tell you, Jake Donovan, my 'problems' as you put them seemed a cinch compared to living with your distrust. Maybe this Christmas you should ask for a heart to replace that block of stone in your chest." As soon as she said it, she knew she'd gone too far.
Jake reached for her and crushed her against him. "Stone? You think any part of me is made of stone? Let's see what you think after this."
His mouth covered hers as his arms tightened her against him. The hardness she felt was hot and pulsing with life. Not stone...but male and heat and desire. His embrace and his kiss demanded she respond. Should she meet his demand or would she regret it if she did?
Chapter Seven
Jake's lips opened on hers, his tongue broke the seam of her lips and thrust inside. The strength of his passion melted doubts, the fervor of his desire engulfed her. She'd waited so long for him to hold her in his arms. Reveling in being where she most wanted to be, she curved her arms around his neck and laced her fingers in his hair. It was longer than she'd ever seen it. She loved its vitality, its thickness, the slide of it through her fingers.
His tongue stroked hers, dashed against the roof of her mouth as if he couldn't taste her fast enough. Angling his head, his hands passed up and down her back. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. The fullness in his jeans tempted her, urging her to become bolder. While she stroked his jaw with one hand, she rubbed her breasts against his chest. His groan vibrated through her.
He broke their kiss, and she protested. But he'd only stopped to edge his fingers under her sweater and yank it over her head. His gaze went directly to her breasts. Their rosy peaks showed through the lace cups. Quicker than she could blink, he unhooked her bra and held one rough palm to each breast. She loved the feel of his calluses on her skin. On the sensitive skin of her breasts, the stimulation was almost more than she could stand. She closed her eyes to absorb the wonder of his touch. Suddenly, she felt the wet, rough texture of his tongue sliding against her nipple, and she moaned. When he did it again, her knees buckled. He held her as they slid down to the floor.
Palming her breasts, he kissed her hard, again and again and again. Sara couldn't keep her world right side up. But she was aroused enough to know she wanted his skin against hers, his body filling hers. She reached for the buttons on his shirt, trying to concentrate on slipping one after the other out of their holes. After she managed the last button, she slid her hand across his chest.
Jake laid her on the floor and unsnapped her jeans. She reached for his. "I want you, Jake. It's been so long..."
Her voice penetrated the haze. For the first time since he'd kissed her, he stilled and gazed into her eyes. She saw anguish there and didn't know why. "What's wrong?"
He swore viciously and looked away. "This is wrong."
"We're married, Jake."
His voice was gravelly. "Sara, the way things are between us...what happens if we have sex and regret it?"
She sat up, conscious of her nudity, but more concerned with what Jake was thinking. "You seem sure that would happen."
He stared into her eyes. "When I make love with you, Sara, I don't want to have doubts. I don't want to wonder if you told me about our son so I could take care of you both. I don't want to wonder if you're pretending something you don't feel."
He was as vulnerable as she was, maybe more so because he was so good at hiding it. "And what about you, Jake? How am I supposed to know what you feel if you don't tell me?"
"I'm telling you now."
"What do you feel?"
For a moment, she thought he wouldn't respond, that he'd button his shirt and walk away. Instead he ran his hand across his forehead, then answered her. "I want you, Sara. Plain and simple. My body and my mind remember what we shared. But I won't be that blind again. I need to be sure we're going to make it before I give you more than my body."
"I can't separate my mind from my body," she said softly. "I loved you then and I love you now."
Anger creased his brow and vibrated in his words. "If you'd loved me, you wouldn't have left. My father left. In her way, my mother left. That's not love. Maybe you'd better decide what love means to you. Because to me it means sticking together no matter what."
"I promised I'd stay when I married you."
He shook his head. "Promises can be broken. That old adage is true that actions speak louder than words. We haven't been together long enough for me to trust in your promises this time."
Her eyes filled with tears, but she also felt a glimmer of hope. He'd been honest with her. He'd unlocked his feelings and let her see his vulnerability. Because of that, she believed they could have a good marriage. She'd prove to him he could trust her or she'd die trying.
Avoiding his gaze, she reached for her bra. Jake turned away and snapped his jeans. The awkwardness between them couldn't get any worse. She slipped her sweater on and ran her fingers through her hair. Sensing Jake had closed himself off again and further discussion about their marriage wouldn't solve anything, she searched for something tangible to talk to him about, to keep the connection between them.
"Thanksgiving is coming up soon. What would you like to do?"
Slowly, he buttoned his shirt. "Did you have something in mind?"
"I'd like to ask Aunt El, of course. Do you think Nathan and Gillian would like to join us?"
"Nathan is flying Gillian's mother in for the holidays."
"They could all come here," she suggested.
Jake studied her, as if she were a puzzle he couldn't quite put together. "You sure you want to take on a dinner that size?"
"Thanksgiving is about family and extended families. I think we'd all enjoy it."
"Do you want me to ask Nathan and Gillian?"
"No, I'll do it. And maybe next week we could go Christmas shopping for Christopher?"
"We did say we'd do that."
He wasn't pushing her away, even after sharing what he had. That gave her so much hope her heart almost flipped over in her chest. "I'm going to prove to you that you can trust me, Jake. I'm going to prove I love you."
He met her eyes and cocked his head.
She felt more naked than she had a few minutes ago when her clothes had lain in disarray on the floor.
His voice was gentle as he said, "We'll have a large Thanksgiving dinner if that's what you want, and we'll go Christmas shopping together. But you and I both know things won't change overnight."
She wasn't that naive. But she was filled with more hope than even she thought was possible. Christmas was a time for wishes to come true, and she'd always believed in Christmas magic. Maybe she could show Jake it was time for him to believe, too.
#<
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As Jake walked by shelves of toys the day after Thanksgiving, he actually felt happy. He'd hardly remembered the feeling of lightness, the wonder of laughter, the simple joy of smiling often. Sara had made Thanksgiving Day a holiday to remember. He was grateful to her for that and a lot more--giving him a chance to get to know his son, championing their relationship...taking care of him when he was sick. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him. He'd hated the feeling of powerlessness at the time, but...
In his mind's eye, he could see her sitting in the light of the fire by his bed. He needed a way to thank her, and he might have found it. Yesterday Eloise had reminded him about Sara's birthday on December nineteenth. He and her aunt in a quiet moment had discussed how difficult the holidays would be for Sara this year without her mother. That's when the idea had hit. A surprise party for Sara. Christopher would love it, too, though Jake knew better than to tell him about it before the day of the party.
Sara walked down the aisle of the toy store beside Jake. Remote control cars lined these particular shelves. Jake picked up the demonstrator model and set it on the floor. He pushed a button and it ran over Sara's toe.
He grinned. "Sorry."
Sara teased, "Do you want that for Christopher or yourself?"
He looked as sheepish as a five-year-old. "Maybe we should get two. Then we could race them."
His crooked smile melted her. They were almost through the toy store and their cart was stocked full of books, games, a stuffed panda bear, a backhoe practically as big as Christopher, an electronic device that could help a child learn to read, a baseball mitt, and a variety of stocking stuffers.
"Maybe you should ask Santa for one."
Jake's gaze was hot on hers. "I've got a few things on my list that are a cut above remote-control cars."
"A Ferrari?" she managed.
"How about an old fashioned Christmas with all the trimmings?"
"That would be my wish, too," she said softly.
The heat between them sizzled as Jake came toward her. He stopped directly in front of her. If he leaned forward, their bodies would touch. "You made yesterday special. I wanted to thank you."
Jake's Bride (Search For Love) Page 11