In light of her private admission, it was the most natural thing in the world to ease her body over his, to straddle his hips and to begin to lavish upon his body some of the attention he’d delivered to hers. To show him, even though she wasn’t yet brave enough to tell him, exactly how he made her feel. And then, as he trembled beneath her touch, to position his swollen flesh at her centre, to lower herself slowly on his length. A deep aftershock of pleasure rippled through her as she took him inside her, welcoming him into her body, into her very soul.
She rocked against him, and felt his answering thrust. Again and again and yet again until she was lost in a blur of stimulation, conscious only of the man beneath her and the rising tide of pleasure that swelled from that point where they joined. And then the ecstasy peaked, for him and for her, sending them both cascading into a rolling eruption of bliss so sweet she thought she might pass out from it.
Erin collapsed on Sam’s chest, their bodies now both slick with perspiration, their breathing labored, their hearts beating frantically, yet as one. As she gave herself over to the darkness, one thought filtered through her shattered mind. The emptiness that Sam had talked about earlier, and that had resonated so strongly with her, was gone.
She must have slept for half an hour or so. When she awoke her body still hummed with the residue of satisfaction. She stirred, realizing that at some stage during her slumber Sam had carefully moved her from on top of him to his side. He must have left the bed, too, however briefly, to dispense with the condom. Now, as she shifted slightly, he adjusted the strong curve of one arm around her to pull her more tightly to him.
This close, she was aware of every aspect of him. Of the shadow of his unshaven cheeks, of the way that the serious lines that usually bracketed his mouth and furrowed his brow during the day—lines that spoke of pain and unhappiness—had now relaxed into smoothness. Even of the scent of him, a mixture of warm skin and spice and essential male, sent her senses into a spiral of heightened consciousness, as if she was attuned to him and him alone.
She wanted to know him better, deeper, more. She already had a handle on what foods and drinks he enjoyed, and over the past week he’d talked a bit about growing up in New Zealand and his move to San Francisco, but to her, all that was peripheral. Suddenly, it was vital to know what made him laugh, what drove him each day—what made him happiest. What made him sad. She already knew losing his wife had plunged him into a dark place. Her hand drifted along his thigh, feeling again the ridge of tissue that still looked newly healed.
And it wasn’t his only scar, she noticed in the faded light cast by the bedside lamp. There were others. A neat line, still bearing traces of stitch marks, crossed his abdomen. Smaller, faint silver strikes that she hadn’t noticed before marked his forehead, and another one on his jaw—but it was more noticeable for the fact that no stubble grew there.
“Do I pass muster?” Sam asked, his voice a deep rumble by her ear.
“You’re beautiful.” She said it simply but she meant it with every beat of her heart.
She felt him shake his head. “Not beautiful, Erin. Never that.”
“I beg to differ,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow. She coasted her hand over the scars on his abdomen and his leg. “These are just marks that show the path of your journey so far.”
“They’re reminders of the selfish and arrogant man I used to be. That’s all.”
“I didn’t know that man. But I’m getting to know the one you are now, and I like him. A whole lot.”
Sam lifted a hand and cupped her face. “That’s good, because I like you, too. A whole lot.”
She smiled at him, feeling her heart swell in her chest at his words. “Tell me about your injuries, Sam. Tell me about this one.” She bent her head to tenderly press a kiss against the scar below his rib cage.
“Lacerated spleen. It won’t be a problem if I’m ever in another wreck,” he said drily, although Erin sensed the underlying anger at himself in his words. “I don’t have it anymore.”
“And this?” She repeated the kiss with the scar on his jaw.
“My cellphone, oddly enough. Funny thing when your car is forced to stop rapidly. You and everything else in it don’t.” He shifted his hand to rest on his thigh. “And this was a compound fracture of my femur. A bone infection, post surgery, ensured my stay in hospital was longer than either I or the medical staff were happy with.”
“Not a good patient?”
“Not patient, period,” he said bluntly. “Too much time to think about what choices I should have made that day, rather than the ones I did. I learned a lot about myself while I was in hospital, and I didn’t like most of it. Eventually I decided, if I had to survive, I had to change. I will never again put my work or myself before my family.”
There was a steely undertone to his voice now that resonated with Erin. She knew exactly how he felt. Nothing and no one would get between her and her son. Ever.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” she whispered, stroking her hand across his belly with featherlight movements.
His recovery must have been tough. The fact that he hadn’t given up on it was a strong measure of the man, and how far he’d come since that awful day. Dare she begin to hope that the rest of his journey might be with her?
* * *
Sam lay there, his thoughts churning. Making love with Erin tonight had been a temptation he simply couldn’t resist. He wasn’t ready for this, for the feelings that being with her aroused in him, for wanting her the way he had—the way he still did. His feelings for her went beyond the physical attraction they so clearly shared. It was something he hadn’t anticipated and he had no preselected mechanism to cope with this resurgence of emotions.
He’d thought he’d learned to shut himself down. To be the quintessential iceman as far as his feelings were concerned. He knew what it was like to go through the wringer. Sentiment wasn’t something he welcomed into his life anymore. And yet, with Erin, and with Riley, he’d found an awakening of hope. A small kernel of a dream he’d once had. A dream he’d expected to share with Laura but to which, in light of his role in her death, he’d decided he was no longer entitled.
He still didn’t believe he deserved to find happiness, but fate had thrown him a second chance with the possibility that Riley might be his son. Was it possible that, together with Erin and Riley, he could have that chance of a family that he’d thought he’d lost forever? Could he reach for the happiness he so wanted, yet deep down didn’t believe he deserved?
Maybe he could.
He reached down to his jeans on the floor next to the bed, sliding the other condom he’d put in there—just in case—into his hand. Whatever happiness there was to be taken, it began now—here, with Erin. The ice in his veins had begun to thaw, leaving in its wake a hot drumming need to bury himself in Erin’s softness, her welcoming warmth.
He rolled over her, loving the sizzle of sensitivity that sparked between them, skin to skin. She was so responsive, so giving.
This time as they made love, he took his time. Bringing to her the crest of a peak, then letting her slowly dip before he allowed her to launch again. His need was strung so tight, by the time he ripped open the foil packet he’d shoved under the pillow he almost messed up putting the condom on. But then finally he was there, his erection arrowed straight toward her body.
Their joining was slow as he fought to prolong every second, his hands holding her hips when she woul
d have pushed against him, enveloping him in her heat. The pleasure-pain of holding back, of teasing her as he withdrew only to enter her again, slowly, oh, so slowly, took every ounce of concentration he had. Concentration that went flying to the four corners of the room the minute he allowed his body to penetrate her fully. She closed around him, holding him to her, tight. Her arms snaked around his body, pulling him down against her, length for length. And as he began to rock gently within her he knew they had no beginning, they had no end. They just had each other in this perfect moment in time.
Nine
Sam wiped away the remnants of shaving foam from his jaw and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He could barely keep a smile off his face these days. Over the past two weeks, since the first night he and Erin had made love, their days and nights had slid into an easy rhythm. One punctuated only by the day she and Riley had gone to her lawyer’s office for the supervised sample taking. Knowing where they were going, and why, had driven him crazy for the couple of hours they were gone. But now things were really in motion, his kind of motion.
He hated waiting, but he knew that each day would just bring him closer to the result he hoped would be music to his ears. And, in the meantime, he’d begun to allow himself to feel happy, to feel a measure of hope for the future.
Every day was brighter, better—something he would never have believed possible—and he could feel the bond between himself and Riley growing stronger. He genuinely loved the little boy. He’d tried to hold back, in case everything just blew right up in his face again, but every day he saw in Riley something of himself, or his family, that underscored his paternity. Now all he needed was the clinical confirmation and he could set new plans in motion. Plans that included Erin and Riley in his future. A future he never dreamed he’d want again, or stood a good chance to have.
He turned away from the mirror just as he heard his cellphone begin to ring from where he’d tossed it onto the bed in his room. A bed he hadn’t slept in for a while. And there it was again, the smile.
Tightening the towel he’d wrapped around his waist after his shower, he limped across to the bed and cast a glance at the caller ID. A rush of adrenaline flooded his entire body with an icy chill. David Fox, his lawyer. He accepted the call and barked a greeting.
“And a good morning to you, too,” David said smoothly.
Sam could hear the smile in the other man’s voice. “Get to the point, Dave.”
“Break out the cigars. It’s a positive match.”
Sam couldn’t speak. There was a lump in his throat the size of Mount Rushmore. He slowly sank to the edge of the bed.
“Sam? You okay, bud?”
He swallowed then coughed a little. “There’s no doubt?” His voice came out a little rough.
“No doubt whatsoever. He’s your son.”
Sam could barely begin to assimilate the news. From the moment he’d been notified about the potential error at the fertility clinic he’d been hoping against hope that Riley Connell was his little boy. Now he had incontrovertible proof. He was a father. Riley was his son.
“What happens next?” Sam asked, still a little shaky.
“We approach his mother with the findings and suggest that a joint custody arrangement be reached. If she’s reluctant to cooperate we can launch action to ensure that your rights as the child’s father are met.”
“Wait on that for a while, okay? I…I just need a couple of days first.”
How would she take the news, he wondered. If he was the one to tell her—and along with that to share with her his feelings for both her and Riley—would that make a difference?
“Sure, if you’re certain that’s what you want.”
“It is,” Sam said, his voice firm now. He didn’t bother to give any further explanation.
Dave had no idea of what he was up to, or that he’d hired a private investigator to find Erin Connell in the first place. He doubted the man would have approved. Whatever, it didn’t matter one bit. He’d wanted to see the child, had wanted to meet the child’s mother. He’d done that—and more. What happened next would need to be very carefully orchestrated.
“Okay then. I’ll wait for your instructions.”
Sam disconnected the call and got to his feet. A part of him wanted to race downstairs—well, as much as he could race with his blasted leg—and give Erin the news. To reveal who he was and what that meant to them as a family. A family. The moniker reverberated through his mind.
His family.
* * *
Erin was humming in the kitchen as she packed the picnic basket she was about to take out to the boat. Today she planned a very special outing. Before she sent the boat away to the storage facility she’d decided to take Sam out on the lake for a day. Just the two of them. Sasha had happily agreed to babysit Riley here at the house and Erin had made a sumptuous lunch. She’d also made sure the small stateroom on board held every possible accoutrement they might need during their day. All going well, she didn’t plan on them being back until shortly before dark.
Her whole body buzzed with anticipation as she mentally ticked off the list she had in the back of her mind, and a tiny thrill of excitement purred through her as she thought about the delights she had planned. After taking Sam on a scenic tour of the lake, and maybe some fishing with the day license she’d secured, she planned to bring him back into the cove, anchoring just the other side of the outcrop that would give them privacy from both the lake and the house.
There, she planned to show him, in word and deed, exactly how much she loved him. Yes, today she would declare her feelings. It was time and it felt right, so right the joy teemed through her.
“You sound happy.”
Sam’s voice came from behind her, making her jump. How he still managed to do that astounded her. His arms locked around her waist from behind and he kissed the nape of her neck, sending a shiver of delight through her body. She turned in the circle of his arms with a smile on her face and brushed a kiss against his lips.
“Good morning. And if I sound happy, it’s because I am.”
She gave him a good look. She felt that over the past few weeks she’d begun to get to know him pretty well, but there was something different about him today. It was as if he pulsed with a new energy. Something that shone from his eyes and lightened his features.
“I hope you weren’t planning on working today,” she continued, “because I have plans to kidnap you and take you away for the day.”
“Sounds intriguing.” He smiled back. “I’m open to persuasion. Riley will enjoy a day out, too, I’m sure.”
“I’ve made other arrangements for him today. Sasha will be looking after him here at the lodge.” She leaned closer and punctuated each of her next few words with a kiss. “I. Want. You. All. To. Myself.”
She was tingling all over when she pulled away to finish checking the contents of the basket. She hefted it up off the table.
“Let me help you with that,” Sam said, stepping forward to take the basket from her.
“No, it’s okay. I’m just going to take this out to the boat and then I’ll be back.”
“You know it’s okay to accept help from other people from time to time.” He said it softly but some of the light and energy that had surrounded him seemed to fade a little.
Erin wondered if she’d hurt his feelings by not accepting his help. Sure, he’d been injured, but he wasn’t incapacitated by any means. But that wasn’t it. Not fo
r her, anyway. She was used to looking out for herself. Even with her marriage she’d maintained a measure of distance, of independence that she hadn’t been prepared to relinquish. Probably a hangover from the days when she’d been reliant on others for everything, and nothing had been forthcoming. She gave her head a small shake. She didn’t want to go there, not today.
She smiled up at him. “I know, but I want everything about this to be a surprise treat for you. How can I be sure you won’t peek and spoil the surprise if I let you take this out to the boat for me?”
His features softened and he gave her a crooked smile. “Nice cover,” he said. “I’m inclined to argue but let’s leave it at that for now.”
“Look, if you want to help, can you keep an eye on Riley for me? He’s on his play mat in my sitting room.”
With her free hand, she unclipped the baby monitor from her hip and put it on the kitchen table then shifted the weight of the basket on her arm.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll be back in a minute. Sash should be here soon and then we can head out.”
* * *
Sam didn’t wait for her to leave the house. He went straight through to the sitting room to where Riley was having fun with the play gym set up over his mat. His heart gave that now-familiar squeeze when he saw the little boy. Little boy? Hell—his son.
“Hello, little man,” he said, lowering himself to the floor beside the baby.
Riley squirmed on the mat, pumping his arms and legs in excitement.
Sam laughed, he couldn’t help it. Looking at Riley, knowing he was his son, filled a missing piece inside of him that had threatened to overwhelm him without him even realizing it. He reached for the little boy, scooting him out from under the play gym and scooping him up to sit on his stomach. Riley clutched at the hair on his forearms and gave him a gummy grin, then gabbled a run of baby-speak.
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