Sinful

by Joan Johnston

  She could feel the muscle and sinew in his back and arms as she caressed him. Her hand brushed across a scar on his side, and she paused and traced it again.

  He froze, then dropped his head against her shoulder. His hand let go of her breast and fell away to the bed.

  Eve realized that the demons that plagued him had taken hold again. She held him closer, wanting to comfort, wanting to ease his pain.

  “Was this where the bullet grazed you?” she asked as she traced a wound under his arm.

  He shook his head. “That was shrapnel.” He took her hand and placed it on an indentation at his waist where flesh was missing. “The bullet tore a chunk out of me.”

  She ran her hand over the spot and felt him flinch. “Does it still hurt?”

  He smiled wryly. “You tickled me.”

  “Oh. Where did the shrapnel hit?” She’d seen the wounds on his chest, but she wanted to feel them with her hands. It was the only way she could think of to share his pain and to ease it.

  He unbuttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt, then pulled it off over his head. He sat unmoving, allowing her to examine the scars slanting across his chest, which gleamed white in the moonlight.

  Eve traced several of them in turn, then reached for the one over his heart. “This one was close.”

  “A quarter inch deeper and I’d be dead.”

  “I’m glad you were spared. I’m so glad you came home to…” She was about to say “me” and substituted “us.” She leaned forward to kiss the scar and felt him quiver when her lips touched his flesh. Eve draped her arms around Connor’s neck and leaned her head against his shoulder, loving the feeling of closeness to him that was more than physical. “Did you start Safe Haven in memory of your friend?”

  Connor shook his head. “I started it for guys like me, who have to go back again and again to fight. Guys who need a respite from killing and death. Guys who need a break from the constant wariness of watching for the bullet or bomb that’s going to get you. Paddy’s sacrifice forced me to acknowledge that even a man like me, with medals for valor, has limits. That soldiers sometimes desperately need a place to rest, so they can fight again.”

  Eve kissed his throat. “You’re doing a good thing, Connor.”

  “I think what you’re doing for those mustangs is pretty special, too,” he replied. “What got you started?”

  Eve took advantage of the opportunity to touch Connor, and brushed the stubborn lock of hair off his forehead. “A friend asked me to take photos of a herd of wild mustangs a week before they were scheduled to be removed from land where they’d been running wild all their lives. They were going to be rounded up and placed in corrals.”

  “Why?” Connor asked.

  Her body quivered with anger. “According to the Bureau of Land Management the grassland where the mustangs lived was ‘overpopulated’ for the available food and water.”

  “And it wasn’t?”

  “It wouldn’t have been if the wild mustangs weren’t sharing it with a herd of cattle.”

  “Whose cattle?”

  “Whoever leased the land from the government at rock-bottom prices.” She leaned back to look into his eyes. “Oh, Connor, they were so beautiful in the wild! So playful. So utterly fascinating to watch. The week I spent with that herd I took some of the best photographs I’ve ever taken in my life.

  “My friend invited me back a month later to see the same herd—or rather, what was left of it—in pens waiting to be adopted and turned into saddle horses.” Eve sighed heavily. “They stood canted on three legs, uninterested in their surroundings—no need to graze, no need to be wary of predators—in a dirt corral with no available shade. The life had gone out of their eyes. I stayed for the sale of the mustangs that hadn’t been adopted the third time around, the ones sold to ‘kill buyers.’ The ones headed to slaughter.”

  She shuddered and felt Connor’s arms tighten around her. “Then I made the mistake of following the kill buyer’s truck as it left. When I passed it on the highway, I saw a wild horse that was clearly in distress, the whites of his eyes showing, his mouth open wide to reveal bared teeth as he shrieked—that’s the word that comes to mind—shrieked in terror. Did he know what was coming? I don’t know. I raced to get in front of the truck, then slammed on my brakes so the driver had to screech to a halt to keep from hitting me. I bought every animal in that truck. Twenty-two mustangs.”

  “Your herd.”

  She nodded, her head moving against his chest. “It took every penny I had in savings, but it was worth it. You’ve seen them running free, how proud they are, how majestic.”

  “I’m surprised you’re letting the vets break them to saddle,” Connor said.

  “If I were wealthy, if I had the land, I’d keep them free. But they won’t be unhappy as saddle horses, not if they get good homes. Horses and men have been partners for eons. Besides, there are a lot more mustangs out there that need to be rescued.”

  “I guess you and I have at least one thing in common,” Connor said.

  “What’s that?”

  “We want to save the world.”

  Eve laughed. “Not the world. Just a few wild horses.”

  “And a few good men.”

  Eve had never felt closer to another human being than she felt to Connor right then. The amazing thing was that there was nothing sexual about their closeness. Was this what marriage was like? Was this what their life would be like in the years to come?

  Eve realized that although Connor had said “Let me love you,” it had been a request for the physical act. What they’d shared had been far more profound. He’d told her something he’d never shared with Molly. What did it mean?

  “I’m sorry my nightmare woke you,” Connor said. “You must be whipped. Do you want to sleep here with me or go join the kids?”

  Eve wanted very much to stay with Connor, but she was afraid they’d end up making love after all. They were going to be married tomorrow, and even if she wasn’t going to have a fancy wedding, it was still possible to have a wedding night.

  “I need to go back to my own bed,” she said. “I don’t want the kids to wake up and find me gone.”

  Connor kissed her quickly on the lips and stood as he eased her out of his lap and onto her feet. Eve realized he wanted her out of the bedroom before he gave in to temptation. There was a certain look to his features, a heaviness of lids, a fullness of lips, that told her he was ready and willing to make love to her right then, right there.

  Eve glanced at Connor once over her shoulder before she turned and ran down the hall. She was careful not to wake the kids when she slipped under the covers. But if she thought she could fall asleep, she was very much mistaken. Thoughts of her wedding night, and hopes and expectations for the future, kept her awake long past when she should have been soundly sleeping.

  Chapter 16

  EVE WOKE THE next morning to the sound of a landline ringing somewhere in the house and discovered that she was alone in bed. When she’d returned to her room last night, she’d changed out of her clothes and put on a knee-length, Swiss-dotted, baby-blue nightgown so she wouldn’t get caught half dressed if the kids wanted her help in the morning.

  When she’d finally managed to doze off, she hadn’t slept well. Brooke’s elbows and knees stabbed her every time the little girl rolled over, and the kids had sprawled across so much of the bed, she’d spent the night clinging to the edge, hoping not to fall off. By the time dawn arrived, she was exhausted. She could hear the kids in the kitchen with Connor and blessed him for letting her sleep in.

  She was in the middle of a lazy stretch, groaning with enjoyment as she extended her fingers wide, her hands high over her head and her toes arched toward the foot of the bed, when Connor appeared in the doorway, phone in hand.

  “It’s for you.”

  Eve felt self-conscious because, with mascara clumped on her eyelashes and her hair spiked every whichaway, she looked like something the cat dragged
in.

  Connor must have just gotten out of the shower. A lock of damp hair fell over his scarred forehead, and he was freshly shaven. He was dressed in a short-sleeved black T-shirt that showed off his powerful biceps and jeans faded with age that lovingly cupped the proof of his sex, which happened to be at eye level.

  She had a vivid recollection of what it felt like to have that warm, hard part of him nested against her own softness and felt her body quicken. Eve ran her hands through her tangled hair to keep from reaching out to touch. “Hardly anyone knows I’m here. Who is it?”

  He handed her the phone. “I don’t know. Some woman asking for you.”

  Eve tried to imagine who it could be, but came up blank. She started to slide out of bed and realized her nightgown had gaped open at the top. She grabbed at it and shook her head in chagrin as she met Connor’s gaze.

  He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, acknowledging that he’d enjoyed the view.

  Eve playfully swatted his arm as she took the phone from him. “This is Eve Grayhawk.”

  She could feel Connor’s eyes on her as she listened and then replied to the speaker on the other end of the line. “Um, yes. I see. How soon? Yes. How long? Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

  She clicked off the phone and dropped it on the bed, too stunned for a moment to speak. She looked at him with amazement and said, “That was National Geographic. They loved my photographs. They have another assignment for me.”

  Connor’s smile was instant and infectious. He lifted her into his arms and swung her in a circle. “Congratulations! I told you your work was good.”

  She was laughing by the time he set her down. “I still can’t believe this is happening. It’s a dream come true.” It just didn’t seem possible that she’d been offered something that she’d been working toward ever since she’d first picked up a camera at thirteen.

  She’d told Mrs. Stack about the project she’d done for National Geographic as though she took photographs for the magazine all the time. In truth, it was her first job with them, and she’d been waiting on pins and needles to hear how much of her work they were actually going to use. Now she’d gotten this wonderful, life-altering call.

  “I’ll be photographing mustangs in the wild,” she said, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

  “Here in Wyoming?”

  “In Nevada.”

  After a long hesitation, Connor asked, “When?”

  “Six weeks from now, in May.”

  “For how long?”

  “As long as it takes.” She couldn’t keep the smile of delight off her face. It wasn’t just taking photographs for one of the premier magazines in the world, it was photographing the wild mustangs she was so passionate about saving. Her evocative photos could move hearts and change minds. They could be the impetus to keep more mustangs in the wild.

  “I’ll be following a herd of mustangs with several pregnant mares until they give birth and then taking photographs of the foals as they grow.”

  “So you’ll likely be gone for several weeks. Or maybe months.”

  Eve nodded. She was still on cloud nine when Connor said, “How does that fit in with our plan to be married today?”

  The smile disappeared from Eve’s face as though she’d clicked a camera shutter. It had never been necessary in the past to balance her life between the people she loved and the work she loved. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know.”

  Connor’s expression was unreadable, but his hip was canted, and he’d stuck his hands into his back pockets. “I suppose there’s a big payday for this job,” he said. “Big enough to help you relocate your horses and afford a place to live.”

  Eve crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “I guess, yes.” The amount she’d been offered for this single project was as much as she’d made in an entire year selling her photographs locally.

  “If I’m not mistaken, once folks see your photographs—which I’m guessing will be spectacular—you’re going to be deluged with offers to take pictures all over the world.”

  Eve felt flattered by Connor’s estimation of her work. She stayed silent because she was beginning to realize the full scope of the opportunities she was going to have—and how they might take her away from the man and the children she loved.

  “You no longer need to marry me to have a home and save your mustangs,” he concluded.

  Eve’s throat constricted at the thought of giving up a life with Connor and Brooke and Sawyer. Surely she didn’t have to choose. Surely she could have both her work and a family to love. “Nothing’s changed, Connor.”

  “Everything’s changed.” He looked at her with wounded eyes. “I’m not going to steal your dream from you, Eve. The deal was that I’d get something and you’d get something. That’s no longer true. Don’t worry about me and the kids. We’ll figure out some way to get along without you. I’m glad for you. I’m just sorry things turned out this way.”

  He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. “Wait!” Why did he have to be so noble? Didn’t he want to marry her? Was she really so easy to dismiss from his life?

  Eve could feel something important, something vital to her happiness, slipping away. “I don’t have to leave for six weeks. I can still help you get through this adjustment period with Brooke and Sawyer.”

  He whirled to face her, and her hand fell away. “Then what? The whole point of getting married—and staying married—was to give the kids two parents they can count on.”

  “I love them. I don’t want to leave them.” Eve saw Connor flinch and realized what she hadn’t said. That she loved him. That she didn’t want to leave him. But it was too soon to exchange words like those, even though she yearned to say them.

  “Getting married to me is only going to tie you down and hold you back,” he said. “Why would you want to do it?”

  Because I love you. Because I’ve always wanted to be your wife. “You seem to think a home for myself and my mustangs is all I’d be getting out of marriage to you. I love those children,” she said fiercely. “I want to be their mother.” And I want a life with you. “Lots of women balance careers and families. At least let me try!”

  “What are the kids supposed to do when you take off? They’ve already lost their mother. They’ll be devastated if they lose you, too.”

  “They won’t be losing me. I can talk with them on the phone. I can Skype. They’ll know I’m still there for them, and that I’ll be coming back.”

  “If you do a good job—and I have no doubt you will—won’t this just be the first of many assignments that take you away from home? What about having more kids? Can you have babies and take on more projects like this?”

  He was asking good questions, none of which she’d had time to consider. “I don’t have all the answers, Connor. I just got the offer a few minutes ago. I haven’t even agreed to take the job.”

  “Why not?”

  “They gave me time to consider whether I wanted the work. I’m supposed to get back to them.”

  “When?”

  “I need to give them a month’s notice, so two weeks from now.”

  He rubbed a hand across his nape. “I want you to have the life you’ve always dreamed of having. I don’t want you giving that up to help me out.”

  If only she could tell him the truth. If only she could say, You’re the dream I’ve had all my life. You’re the dream I don’t want to lose. She loved taking photographs, and she could never give up the work that gave her life so much meaning, but she was more willing to compromise than Connor seemed to believe. “I’ll always want to take photographs, but I won’t always have to leave you and the kids to do it. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.”

  “What are you saying?”

  She met his gaze, her heart in her throat, and said, “I want to go through with the wedding.”

  He didn’t respond for several long moments. “All right,” he said at last, his voice rough with emotion. “L
et’s go get married.”

  Chapter 17

  CONNOR STOOD BESIDE Eve, listening to the magistrate read the words that made them husband and wife, wondering if he was making a mistake marrying a woman who loved his kids—but not him. He hadn’t realized until it seemed he might lose Eve just how much he wanted to be married to her.

  It was the vow to try and be a better husband that had caused him to share his feelings of guilt and shame for Paddy’s death with Eve. He hadn’t realized how good it would feel to have her absolve and defend him or how moved he would be when she shared an important turning point in her life.

  He felt a tug on his jeans and looked down into his son’s cherubic face. “Pick me up, Daddy.”

  He picked up his son and held him close. He knew how precious and fleeting these moments with his children were. Molly’s death had proved there were no promises in life. He had to reach for happiness if he hoped to have any chance of achieving it. Which meant marrying a woman he’d loved most of his life, even though she didn’t love him. He fought the ache in his throat so he’d be able to speak when the time came.

  Eve smiled at him as he settled Sawyer against his waist.

  Brooke stood between them, a bright blue ribbon tied around her ponytail and a small bouquet of wildflowers in her hands. She was listening carefully to everything the magistrate said.

  Brooke looked up at Eve when she said, “I will,” and then up at him when he said, “I will.”

  The magistrate said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He grinned. “I have to say I’m surprised to see you two here under these circumstances.” Both Connor and Eve had appeared before the magistrate more than once as teenagers to atone for mischief they’d caused.

  Eve shot Connor an embarrassed look, and Connor grinned and shrugged back.

  The balding man, who sported an impressive handlebar mustache, continued, “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d marry one of you wild Flynn boys to one of King’s Brats. My best wishes to you both.”