by Amy Ruttan
She had a tendency to be over-emotional at times. She was so used to bottling up her feelings that after a time they would erupt out of her like putting a mint in diet soda.
She was being unreasonable.
The cushion next to her dipped as Quinn sat beside her. He took her hand in his broken one. It was strong and didn’t tremble.
“I’m so sorry for snapping at you, Quinn.”
She leaned over and buried her face in his neck, drinking in his scent, his warmth and his strength. Strength she needed now more than ever.
Right now she needed to feel something besides pain. What she needed was physical contact with him. Even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t let him in, at this moment she wanted to drown her sorrows in him. For so long she’d been anesthetized to life and she hadn’t even realized it until this moment.
Making love with Quinn would remind her she was still alive.
“Charlotte,” Quinn whispered, causing goose bumps to spread across her skin. Her nipples tightened under her shirt. She pressed her body to his, trying to close off any space that remained between them.
Charlotte wanted nothing to separate them. Not at this moment.
“What can I do for you, Charlotte?” He kissed the top of her head gently as he cradled her. “I’ll do anything.”
“Make love to me, Quinn.”
A moan escaped past his lips and his hot breath fanned her neck. “Are you sure?”
Her answer was to simply wrap her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his hair, bringing his lips to her mouth. “Yes. Make the hurt go away. Please. I need you.”
No more words were needed in that moment. Her plea was silenced by a searing kiss that made her melt into him. Charlotte didn’t want to let him go. As the kiss deepened he pressed her against the cushions of the couch.
“Not here,” she said, reluctantly breaking off the kiss.
Quinn scooped her up in his arms, without breaking the connection of their lips as he kissed her again. He carried her the short distance down the hall to her bedroom. Her blood thundered in her ears as she thought about what was going to happen and about how much she wanted it.
He set her down and she gripped the collar of his shirt while his hands roved over her back. Quinn’s pulse raced under her fingertips as she undid the buttons at the base of his throat. “I want you, Quinn.”
I’ve never stopped wanting you.
The air seemed to crackle with almost tangible tension. It was like her first time all over again and it was only fitting. Quinn had been her first and only.
“I want you, Charlotte, but only if you’re sure. You’ve been through so much today.”
“I want this. Please.”
He seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment. “I can’t resist you. I’ve never been able to.” His lips captured hers in a kiss, his tongue twining with hers. Charlotte pulled him down onto the bed, until she was kneeling in front of him. His eyes sparkled in the dim room. “I’ve missed you, Charlotte. God, how I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too,” she whispered. She slipped off her shoes and they clattered to the floor. Reaching for him, she dragged him into another kiss. His hands slipped down her back, the heat of his skin searing her flesh through her thin cotton shirt, making her body ache with desire. Quinn removed her shirt and then his hands moved to her back to undo the clips of her bra. He undid each one painstakingly slowly, before he slipped the straps off her shoulders.
The sharp intake of breath from Quinn when his gaze alighted on her state of half undress sent a zing of desire racing through her veins. He kissed her again, his hands moving to cup her breasts and knead them. Charlotte closed her eyes and a moan escaped at the feel of his rough caresses on her sensitized skin.
She untucked his shirt from his pants then attacked the buttons and peeled it off, tossing it over her shoulder. She ran her hands over his smooth, bare chest, before letting her fingers trail down to the waist of his trousers. He grabbed her wrists and held her there, then pushed her down roughly on the bed, pinning her as he leaned over her. He released her hands and pressed his body against hers, kissing her fervently, as though he were a condemned man, yet there was tenderness there, too.
Charlotte had missed this.
She kissed him again, snaking her arms around his neck, letting his tongue plunder her mouth, her body coming alive as if it had been in a deep sleep.
He broke the kiss and removed her yoga pants, his fingers running over her calves. Each time his fingers skimmed her flesh her body ignited, and when his thumbs slid under the side of her panties to tug them down she went up in flames. Now she was totally naked and vulnerable to him.
Quinn stood and she watched him remove his pants. Moonlight filtered through the slatted blinds. He was glorious as he bared his well-honed body to her. She remembered every exquisite inch of him. She helped him roll on a condom.
When he returned to the bed he trailed his hand over her body, lingering on her breasts. Pleasure coursed through her at his touch. He pressed his lips against one of her breasts, laving her nipple with his hot tongue. She arched her back, wanting more.
“I love making you feel this way,” he said huskily.
I love it when you make me feel this way. Only she didn’t say the words out loud. His hand moved down her body, between her legs. He began to stroke her, making her wet with need.
All she could think about was him replacing his hand with his mouth. The thought of where he was, what he was going to do, made her moan.
As if reading her mind, Quinn ran his tongue over her body, kissing and nipping over her stomach and hips to where he’d just been caressing. His breath against her inner thighs made her smolder and when his tongue licked between the folds of her sex, she cried out.
Instinctively she began to grind her hips upwards, her fingers slipping into his hair, holding him in place. She didn’t want him to stop. Warmth spread through her body like she’d imbibed too much wine, her body taut as ecstasy enveloped her in a warm cocoon.
She was so close to the edge, but she didn’t want to topple over. When she came she wanted him to be buried inside her.
Quinn shifted position and the tip of his shaft pressed against her folds. She wanted him to take her, to be his and his alone.
Even if only for this stolen time.
He thrust quickly, filling her completely. There was a small sputtering of pain, just like their first time. She clutched his shoulders as he held still, stretching her. He was buried so deep inside her.
“I’m sorry, darling,” he moaned, his eyes closed. “God, you’re tight. It’s been far too long.” He surged forward, bracing his weight on his good arm while his bad hand held her hip. She met every one of his sure thrusts.
“So tight,” he murmured again.
Quinn moved harder, faster. A coil of heat unfurled deep within her. She arched her back as pleasure overtook her, the muscles of her sheath tightening around him as she came. Quinn stiffened, and spilled his seed.
He slipped out of her, falling beside her on the bed and collecting her up against him. She let him and laid her head against his damp chest, listening to his rapid breathing.
What am I doing? What have I done?
She knew exactly what she’d done. She was angry at herself for being weak and for possibly hurting them both again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHE WAS BEING watched.
Charlotte could feel Quinn’s gaze boring into her back. It made her feel uneasy. Why had she slept with him again? What had she been thinking?
That was a foolish question. She knew exactly what she’d been thinking and she was now regretting it wholeheartedly in the pale light of morning. Though she had to admit she’d liked being in his arms again. Every touch, every kiss h
ad been like a dream come true, one she hadn’t woken up from when the best part had come.
Grief had pushed her carefully guarded emotions over the edge and her walls had come tumbling down.
I’m an idiot.
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder. Quinn smiled lazily at her.
“What’re you looking at?” she asked.
“I just like watching you.” He propped himself on his elbow. “Where are you going?”
Her stomach twisted as she thought of that little building on the edge of town and she turned her back to him again. “To see Anernerk.” She stared down at her knees and tried to keep back the tears threatening to spill.
The mattress dipped and Quinn scooted towards her. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“Wise or not, I thought of her as a mother. She raised me as her own and it’s my duty to be there.” Besides, she had to put some distance between her and Quinn. Last night had been wonderful, but it needed to end there.
“A tradition?”
“Yes.” A sigh escaped. She was not relishing her duty because she didn’t want to face the reality that Anernerk was gone. Someone else she loved who’d left her.
You have Quinn. All you have to do is reach out and grab him.
Did she have Quinn? He hadn’t said anything to the contrary. She might trust him for his surgical abilities, but she didn’t trust handing her heart over to him again. Charlotte didn’t want to pin all her hope on the notion that he might stay. She wasn’t sure if he truly understood why it meant so much for her to stay up here and devote her life of medicine to these far-flung communities.
And she couldn’t ask him to stay with her, giving up the life he wanted. Neither would she hold it against him this time when he left.
“I understand. I’m just worried about your emotional state.”
Charlotte stood, but wouldn’t look at him. She wasn’t brave enough to meet his gaze, to let him have all of her.
“My emotional state is fine.” Then she met his gaze and saw tenderness, concern and perhaps something more in his eyes.
Walk away, Charlotte.
“I have to go.”
“Will you be back soon?” he asked.
“Does it matter?”
“It does. I want to talk about going to Iqaluit.”
Charlotte took a step back, shocked. Did he want to work in Iqaluit? She hoped she hadn’t led him on. “Why?”
“Unless you have laparoscopic equipment up here, I need to get to a facility that does. We’re going to do a dry run of Mentlana’s procedure in a skills lab.”
Her heart sank in disappointment. What were you expecting? Really. “Yes, well, I don’t... I mean, I’ll have to file a flight plan.”
“Then file one. We need to get down there as soon as we can.”
“You want me to come with you?”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “How else are you going to assist me?”
“Assist you? I thought you were joking before.”
“I don’t joke about surgery.”
“I’m flattered, but I can’t go to Iqaluit with you.”
Quinn frowned. “I thought you still had a surgical license.”
“I do. I can still perform some surgery, but I can’t leave Cape Recluse.”
“Why not?”
“I’m the only physician here.”
“And your only current high-risk patient is Mentlana?”
“Yes.”
“Then what choice do you have? You need to go through a dry run with me in a skills lab. You fly, George flies and it’s a two-hour flight, so you won’t be separated from your patients up here. You can spend a few days in Iqaluit with me, practicing. This is for your best friend, Charlotte.”
Damn. Quinn was right.
“I’ll talk to George. We’ll arrange something, but after Anernerk’s funeral.”
“Deal.”
She turned to leave then spun back round. “You’re serious? You want me to assist?”
“Positive.” He lay back against the pillows. “Only you.”
Only me?
It gave her pleasure to know that he did trust her, that he had faith in her abilities to assist him, a renowned neonatal surgeon.
Of course she’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.
She’d file the flight plan with the airfield as soon as she was able to. Right now she had to focus on Anernerk and it was going to be hard. Even thinking about Anernerk laid out, waiting until they could dig through the permafrost, made her throat constrict. They’d have a memorial in a day or so and then bury her when the ground was softer.
Charlotte slipped on her parka at the door and headed out into the cold, but winter’s bite didn’t have any effect on her. Her mind was whirring with several things, Anernerk, Mentlana, the baby and, of course, Quinn.
Charlotte paused in front of the little cabin and took a deep, steadying breath.
I can do this. Anernerk wanted me here. She wanted me to be a part of this moment.
The handle to the door shook in her gloved hands as she opened it and stepped inside. The local ladies, including Lucy and Lorna, had placed Anernerk’s body on one of the hides Anernerk’s father had cured—a caribou which had been special to the old woman.
Charlotte stepped forward without saying anything. She’d seen this ritual performed before and she’d taken part in it as well. This time, however, it was much more personal. She took the wet rag Lorna handed her and gingerly picked up Anernerk’s arm. She began to wash Anernerk’s paper-thin skin.
A draft rushed at her back. Charlotte turned as Mentlana lumbered into the room. Two steps and Charlotte was by her side.
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m all right,” Mentlana chided.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Charlotte gripped her shoulder. “Don’t you understand what bed rest is?”
Mentlana snorted. “Please. Genen already gave me that lecture. He brought me over on the dogsled, tied to the back of his snowmobile.”
“What?” Charlotte was going to have a stern talking to Genen.
“He went like five kilometers an hour. Besides, it was my idea.”
“Apparently, pregnancy has rendered you into a lunatic.”
Mentlana sighed. “I wanted to be here. Let me braid her hair. I’ll just do that and go back home.”
“Okay. But then Genen’s taking you home.”
Mentlana nodded. “Thanks, Charley.” She moved slowly to Anernerk’s head and began to brush out the snowy white hair.
They finished preparing Anernerk’s body. Mentlana braided the hair beautifully and was taken back home by Genen. The elders dressed Anernerk in traditional clothing and then wrapped her body in the caribou hide on which she’d been laid out.
Charlotte stood back, tears blurring her vision, but they didn’t escape. She watched the final rituals. Later there would be requiems for Anernerk and her life.
There was nothing more she could do here. It was at times like this Charlotte felt helpless, useless. She was a healer and death was a blow to her. She’d lost and death had won.
“Can I have a moment alone with her?”
The other women nodded and exited the cabin. The sound of the door shutting behind her thundered in her head like a deafening blow of finality. She was alone with Anernerk, the outside world closed out so she could say her private farewells.
Charlotte would have to be quick. It was too cold outside for the other women to be out there long. She took a step toward Anernerk, the woman who had kept her from being lost in the system as an orphan. The woman who’d encouraged and nourished her dreams. The only mother Charlotte had known. She brushed her fingers across Anernerk’s cold cheek.
“Aanak,” she whispered. “I love you. You saved my life. I don’t know how I’ll go on without you, but I know you would want me to and I will. I hope you have the peace you were looking for.” Tears rolled down Charlotte’s face and she brushed them away.
“May the spirits guide you home.” Charlotte opened the door and the elders returned to finish the preparations. She nodded to one of the elders and slipped out of the cabin. The sun was beginning to set and the stiffness in her shoulder alerted her to the fact she’d been tending to Anernerk’s body for some time.
The lights from her house flooded out on the snow and a warm sensation built in the pit of her stomach. Quinn was there, waiting for her. She didn’t have to be alone tonight if she was willing to take the risk and be with him again.
That was not a risk she was willing to take. She wouldn’t lead him on.
Too much water had passed under the bridge and Charlotte couldn’t see a way back to reclaim what they’d had. She wouldn’t lose her heart to him again.
When she entered her home the scent of garlic hung heavily in the air and her stomach rumbled in response. Her home smelled like an Italian eatery, which was odd. Nothing in town was open. Today was a day of mourning for Anernerk. When someone died, communities became ghost towns for a couple of days.
Charlotte hung her jacket on the hook by the door and peered into the kitchen. The windows were steamed up and Quinn was moving back and forth between the stove and the table.
She suppressed a chuckle when she spied the old frilly apron, which had been her mother’s, wrapped around his waist. She’d kept it for purely sentimental reasons, but seeing Quinn in it, tearing around the kitchen, amused her.
On the table was a clean white lace tablecloth, and two emergency candles were alight in a couple of old pickle jars. Two glass tumblers were filled with grape juice. It was the most romantic thing he’d ever done for her.
Damn. What is he doing?
Quinn cursed as he lifted the lid on a steaming pot. He shook his hand and stuck his finger in his mouth.