AN INNOCENT MAN

by Margaret Watson

  Lowering her onto the bed, he stood for a moment and looked at her. She felt suddenly cold and foolish without his arms around her and his body pressing against hers. He'd think she was an idiot, teasing him like that.

  "Don't, love," he whispered, pulling his shirt over his head. "Don't think it, not even for a second." Unbuttoning his jeans, he shucked them down his legs then straightened, standing in front of her in low-cut red briefs that did nothing to hide the extent of his arousal from her.

  "Don't think what?" she asked, feeling her cheeks heat.

  "Don't think you're making a fool of yourself. That's what you're doing, isn't it?"

  How could she be so transparent? Slowly she nodded.

  "I love every minute of it," he said passionately. "Can't you tell?"

  She looked at him again, letting her gaze rest on the bulge straining the front of his briefs. She nodded again and let her gaze roam upward. He was as magnificent as she knew he'd be. His flat belly was dusted with dark hair, and his chest was sleek with muscle. She'd completely forgotten about the bandage wrapped around his ribs, and when she saw it she sat up straight.

  "Connor, I forgot all about your ribs." She sprang up from the bed and touched the bandage gently. "Won't it hurt, to, you know…"

  He caught her hand in his and brought it to his mouth. "No, it won't hurt. Trust me."

  Bringing her other hand to his bandaged chest, she gently caressed the injured ribs. "I don't know. It's only been a few days since your accident. I kind of forgot all about it—" she waved her hand toward the stairs vaguely, "—back downstairs." She felt her face flame but kept doggedly on. "Maybe we shouldn't take a chance that you'll hurt yourself again."

  "Sarah, stop. I'm hurting now." There was a smile in his voice but she refused to look at him. "There's another part of my anatomy that's going to be permanently damaged if we stop now. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that, would you?"

  Her lips curved in a little smile and she finally looked at him. "Absolutely not. As a medical person, I took an oath to do no harm. You could probably report me to the authorities."

  He smiled back at her, one of his dazzling, all-too-infrequent smiles. Catching her breath, she could only stare at him.

  He drew her off the bed and pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. His sigh vibrated through her. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything or anyone in my life." He bent his head, nuzzling her neck. His warm breath stirred the hair behind her ear and made her shiver. "I want you so much I'm scared to death."

  "I'm scared, too, Connor. I didn't plan on fa – getting involved with you or anyone else."

  He pulled back just enough to see her face. "Then give me your hands and we'll face it together."

  Slowly she raised her hands and twined them with his. As they held tightly to each other, their mouths met in a tender, gentle kiss. She told him everything that she couldn't put into words, everything that she wasn't ready to say and he wasn't ready to hear. Still holding hands, they tumbled onto the bed.

  The moonlight bathed his strong, lithe body as he lay next to her. Propping himself up on one elbow, he swept his fingers over her hair, down her check, and rested them in the hollow of her collarbone. She knew he could feel her pulse pound. He watched her for what seemed like a long time, then he bent and kissed her again.

  This time he made no effort to hide his desire. His mouth locked on hers and his tongue swept past her lips. Shifting his legs, he slid on top of her and fitted himself into the V of her legs.

  He was on fire. His chest burned her, even through the cotton of her blouse. With one knee he pushed the fabric of her skirt out of the way and twined his bare legs against hers. Heat pooled in her belly and burned its way down to the place between her legs. Her arms and legs we too heavy to lift.

  He trailed his lips down her cheek and stopped at her ear. Taking her earlobe between his teeth, he suckled it gently while one hand unbuttoned her blouse. Shivering, she clutched him more tightly and waited, muscles tense, while he swept her blouse off her shoulders.

  A quick flick of his fingers and the clasp to her bra came unfastened. Suddenly she felt very vulnerable, lying in the moonlight bared to the waist. He lifted his head from the side of her neck and stared at her.

  Finally he looked up. "You're magnificent. All of my dreams pale beside the reality. Sarah, I—" He stopped and kissed her again, pouring himself into her. One hand cupped her breast almost reverently. When he drew his thumb slowly across the hard nipple, she arched, feeling the stab of need all the way down to her core.

  He looked at her, a hot look glittering in his eyes. "You like that?"

  "You know I do," she gasped. "Please, Connor…"

  Bending his head, he nuzzled between her breasts, a finger on each nipple. Kneading, stroking and gently squeezing, he explored thoroughly. She was in a frenzy of need when he finally took one hard bud into his mouth.

  She wrapped her legs around him and moved against him. Reaching down with one hand, she tried to pull his tight briefs down his legs. His hand reached for her wrist, gentle but firm.

  "Not yet, love. I want this to last for a while. If I was naked against you…" His voice trailed off in a groan and he surged against her. Letting go of her wrist, he fumbled desperately with the waistband of her skirt until he found the button that held it together. Sweeping the skirt down her legs, he hooked his fingers in her panties and pulled them off, too.

  She lay naked in front of him, but all her self-consciousness had disappeared along time ago. This was Connor, and nothing had ever been so right. Running her hands up his back, she gloried in his tense muscles that quivered at her touch. She was awed by the knowledge that she could bring him to this, that she could make him hold onto his control by a single, thin thread.

  He slid his hand down her belly to the juncture of her thighs. Cupping her in his hand, he lay still for a moment. She felt his struggle with control even as she squirmed against him. He shuddered once, then began to stroke her. It was too much. She felt herself hanging on the edge, and she reached down to pull his briefs away again. "I need you, Connor. Now." She barely recognized her voice, trembling with passion.

  "I don't want it to be over yet," he answered, the agony of control in his voice. "You deserve more than this."

  "I can't wait," she whispered, reaching down and slipping her hand inside his briefs. Closing her hand around him, she felt him grow even harder. His hips jerked and he rolled away from her suddenly.

  Stripping off the briefs, he sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for his jeans. Moonlight reflected off the little foil packet he ripped open. The next second he was laying on top of her, spreading her legs and lowering his mouth to her breast again.

  When she arched into him this time, he drove into her. She gasped and froze, feeling him fill her. Jerking his head up, he looked at her, stricken. "I hurt you. I'm sorry."

  "You didn't," she said fiercely. "It's just … been a while."

  "Sarah," he began, but she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

  "Love me, Connor. You don't know how much I want you to love me."

  He moved a little and she froze again, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. She slid her hands up his back, slick with sweat from his battle to go slow. Arching into him, she twined her legs around him. When she reached down to cup his hips in her hands, the last vestige of his control fled.

  Murmuring her name over and over, he moved faster and faster, harder and harder. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as she felt herself falling, and suddenly everything exploded in light and color. Clinging to him, she felt him stiffen and whisper her name again and again as he emptied himself into her.

  They lay entwined for a long time, holding each other tightly as their breathing returned to normal. Connor shifted once and tried to slide off her, but she refused to let him go.

  "I don't want to hurt you."

  "You're not."
>
  "How about this, then?" He spoke as he turned suddenly, and she found herself stretched out on top of him.

  "Mm," she said, snuggling closer to him.

  "Sarah." Brushing her hair away from her face, he willed her to look at him.

  Opening her eyes, she looked at his face. The faint echoes of passion we still reflected in the hard planes of his cheekbones. "What?" she whispered.

  His face softened as he watched her. "Nothing, just Sarah."

  "Connor," she mocked softly. "What's wrong? Are you regretting this?"

  "Never." He gave her a slow, deep kiss. "I'll treasure this night for the rest of my life. I was just afraid that you're having some regrets."

  "How could I?" she asked. "I lo—" She bit her lip and corrected quickly, "I loved every minute. Couldn't you tell?"

  He stroked one hand down her back and over her buttocks, and the heat began again. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure."

  "Well, I'm a nurse, so that means I'm a scientist. Maybe we should use the scientific method."

  "Mm." His hand kneaded one hip and slipped between her legs in a brief, feather-soft touch. "You mean see if the results are reproducible?"

  "Something like that," she moaned as his hand found her again.

  "I like the way you think." He slid her down his body and she felt him, hard and ready. "There're a lot of different experiments that I have in mind, though."

  Closing her hand around him, she murmured, "Well, what are you waiting for? We have only another twelve hours before tomorrow gets here."

  "I think I could get to be a real fan of the scientific process."

  * * *

  Daylight streamed across her face and Sarah rolled over, bumping into something hard and warm in her bed. Sitting up and opening her eyes with a start, she saw Connor sprawled on the bed next to her, the sheet barely covering him and leaving nothing to her imagination.

  She lay down slowly, feeling an unaccustomed stiffness in her body from the night before. She ached in places she'd almost forgotten she had. Pulling the sheet over herself, she looked at him and smiled softly.

  It had been an enchanted evening, full of magic and moonbeams. However, this morning would be quite another story, she was afraid. Knowing what she did of Connor, she was sure that any hint of clinging or possessiveness would be enough to send him flying away from her. The last thing he wanted was to feel bound to her.

  Well, she could play it casual with the best of them. She'd give him all the time he needed to realize he couldn't live without her. Slowly laying down, she slid over until she nestled against him. In a few more minutes it would be back to reality. For now, she could pretend she belonged there.

  Connor stirred and stretched, noticing with satisfaction that his ribs hardly hurt at all. Suddenly he realized he wasn't alone in the bed, and his eyes snapped open.

  Sarah was curled around him, her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face. Memories of the night before cascaded over him and he felt his body responding. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and pulled her into his arms.

  She opened her eyes slowly and smiled at him. "Good morning." Her voice was husky with sleep and pleasure, and deep contentment filled her face.

  His arms tightened and he bent to kiss her. If he lived to be a hundred, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of waking up next to her.

  Except that there was no way he could get used to it. Slowly, as if he was tearing away a piece of himself, he moved away from her and sat up. "Good morning, Sarah."

  She watched him for a moment, a tender smile on her face. Then she sat up, clutching the sheet above her breasts, and shook her hair out of her face. "Do you want to use the shower first, or shall I?"

  What he wanted was to pull that sheet away from her and sink back into her sweetness, to spend the rest of today and, the next several lifetimes in this bed with her. "You go ahead," he said gruffly, leaning against the headboard. At least he could watch her walk to the shower.

  Jumping off the bed, she twisted the sheet around herself and headed for the bathroom down the hall. She paused at the door and turned around, saying softly, "I'll only be a minute."

  Then she was gone, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and frowning at the place where she'd disappeared. She was being awfully casual about this whole business, as if waking up in bed with a man wasn't that unusual.

  But he knew otherwise. Every move she'd made, every surprised little cry and subtle tensing of unused muscles had told him it had been a long time for her. Standing up, he looked around for the clothes he'd discarded so hastily the night before. She was probably just trying to make it easier for him, and he stood in the hallway and stared at the closed bathroom door.

  He'd give anything if he could have met Sarah Wesley in a different place and under different circumstances. He hadn't known people like her still existed. She was good to the core, a luminous, shining woman. And she made him burn with a desire that was like a fever.

  Who had he been fooling? One night with her would never be enough. It had just whetted his appetite, made him realize what he'd be missing when he went home to Denver. And going home to Denver was inevitable. There was no place for him in this town. And he didn't care. He didn't want Pine Butte, either.

  Hearing the shower stop, he turned and headed for the stairs and his clean clothes and shower in the bedroom in the clinic. Knowing he had to go, he tried to tell himself he could leave Sarah alone, that he wouldn't hurt her any more than he already had. As he stood in the lonely room downstairs, hearing her padding around in the apartment above him, he wondered who he was trying to fool.

  Walking slowly up the stairs twenty minutes later, he heard pans clinking on the stove and a radio cheerfully reciting the time and temperature. When he hesitantly entered the kitchen, Sarah turned and gave him a bright smile. "I thought I'd make pancakes and bacon. I'm starving this morning."

  Her face colored slightly at the last words and she turned to the stove. Without thinking, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  "Me, too." He nuzzled her neck. "What do you say we have dessert first?"

  For just a moment she melted into him, then pulled herself together and stood up straight. "Everyone knows you don't have dessert with breakfast. You need something substantial to start the day."

  "What I have in mind would be very substantial. And it would be a great way to start the day." His hands crept upward until they cupped her breasts. In spite of all his lectures to himself in the shower, he wanted her as much as he had the night before. More. Now he knew what it would be like.

  Dropping the spatula into the frying pan with the bacon, she turned around slowly in his arms. "I've never had dessert for breakfast," she whispered. "But I'm always open to new experiences."

  Closing his eyes, he bent and kissed her. It was too late to pull away, to play it casually the way he'd planned to do. He was going under fast, and there was no lifeline in sight.

  Taking her hand, he led her out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. She'd made the bed and picked up her clothes, leaving the room looking as pristine and untouched as it had been before last night.

  Staring at her for a minute, trying desperately to distance himself from her, he gazed into her wide, trusting blue-green eyes. It was like gazing into a pure, crystal-clear stream. He could see all the way into her soul, and there wasn't a shadow of doubt in her.

  Finally, releasing the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, he kissed her again and felt her drawing him down onto the bed. As she murmured his name, he closed his eyes to block out the truth. For now, he would see only what he wanted to see. And that was only Sarah.

  When they finally ate breakfast, the bacon was burned and the pancakes were dry. Taking a bite, she wrinkled her nose. "Are you sure you don't want to go to Earlene's?"

  "Positive," he replied. "We wouldn't have nearly as much privacy at Earlene's." He watched her, feeling his body stirr
ing again as a blush washed over her cheeks. "And there are certain times when a man wants privacy."

  Her cheeks still red, she pushed away from the table and began running water to wash the breakfast dishes. "We've had about all the privacy we're going to get, for the morning at least. Josie'll be here soon and my patients won't be far behind her."

  "And I need to get going, too."

  She spun around, fear on her face. "You're not still planning to go to the mine, are you?"

  "I have to, Sarah. Nobody's going to come up to me and say, 'Oh, by the way, MacCormac, you want to hear what happened to your father?' If I want any answers, I have to dig them out myself."

  She leaned against the counter, a soapy dark blue coffee mug clutched in her hand. "All right, then, I'm coming with you. I told you I would last night and I meant it. I don't want you going out there alone."

  "You have patients coming this morning, Sarah. You can't just take off." He figured that appealing to her sense of duty would be the quickest way to head her off.

  "Josie can reschedule them. We won't be gone all day. And besides," she said firmly, her eyes filling with excitement, "I have the perfect reason to go out to the mine."

  He could see a plan churning in her mind, and in spite of his determination he felt himself getting caught up in her excitement. "What's that?"

  "There are a bunch of papers I have to fill out for workers' compensation about Chet's accident. It would be natural to go out to the mine to get Richard's signature and pretend I had to check up on some facts."

  "Why would you have to check on things at the mine for Chet's accident? Wouldn't that be Richard's job?"

  "Probably, but he won't realize that right away. By the time he does, we'll be gone and you'll have checked what you need."

  "I think you missed your calling," he said ruefully, knowing it was inevitable he would give in to her. "You should have been a detective. I can just see you in a long trench coat, badgering some poor sap into confessing just to get you off his back."