The doctor's meant-to-be marriage

by Janice Lynn

  His voice held anger, self-accusation, and a whole lot of raw pain.

  “Her death isn’t your fault.” She softly rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand in a caressing motion. Helplessness washed over her. She wanted to ease his sorrow, to take away his pain, to comfort him however she could, yet she didn’t know where to begin, what to say to lighten his burden.

  “Connie knew the risks. She made the choice to have the treatments. What happened is horrible, but couldn’t have been foreseen. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

  “She wouldn’t be dead right now if I hadn’t pushed her,” he began, looking away when his voice broke. Moisture shimmered on his dark lashes, and Chelsea’s heart pinched so tightly she could barely breathe.

  She lifted his hand to her chest and hugged it to her. Words seemed inadequate when she wanted to give so much more.

  They stood in silence, Chelsea wanting to comfort him, feeling the tremble in his hand next to her heart. His arm went around her, pulling her to him tightly, and he buried his face in her hair. “She’s dead because of me.”

  “Oh, Jared,” she breathed against his neck, wishing she could take away every ounce of his sorrow, every ounce of his guilt. “I’m so sorry she’s gone, but you’re wrong. Connie’s death was an accident.”

  “I failed her.” He rolled his forehead against hers, his face squished with torment. “I thought I knew best, that if she’d just take the treatments she’d overcome her cancer. I couldn’t bear the thought of her not fighting. I should have listened to what she wanted. If I had, she’d still be here.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped her from dying, Jared,” Chelsea said. “Without treatment she would have died. Chemotherapy was her only hope.”

  “I know.” But she could tell he didn’t. Not in his heart.

  She held him, not speaking, not acknowledging how he shook, how he leaned into her, his face buried in her hair.

  His body shook next to hers, and his arms tightened their hold, molding her against him. She didn’t care. She clung to him, knowing that next to Jared was where she always wanted to be, through the good times and the bad.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, wasn’t even convinced at first that she felt the light brush of Jared’s lips against her hair. Not until he began trailing kisses over her face in what she knew was a desperate attempt to ease his pain.

  Needing to take away his hurt more than to draw her next breath, Chelsea lifted her face and kissed the corner of his mouth.

  When he didn’t pull away, didn’t remind how they shouldn’t become involved because of being coworkers, didn’t remind of how they were just friends, didn’t complain or remind her she was too young and he was in love with someone else, as he’d done the last time she’d kissed him, she kissed him again. Only this time she pressed her lips fully to his and moaned when something within him snapped. Snapped and unleashed the flood of emotions dammed inside, showering her with his need. She welcomed the passionate storm.

  He kissed her mouth, assaulting her lips until she opened, granting him access.

  He kissed her with all the fervor she’d longed for when she’d first fallen head over heels for him and for what seemed like most every day since.

  He kissed her until she clung to him, breathless and needy. Not at all like “just friends”. Oh, no, his kisses were raw, edgy, full of passion, intense. Wonderfully intense.

  “Your mouth drives me mad.” He brushed his hands over her hair, her face, her lips. “I’ve wanted to kiss you, to feel your lips against mine. When you smiled at me for the first time, Chelsea, I wanted you. God, how I wanted you, but you were too young and I was involved with Laura. I had no right to want you. Not then, not now, but I do. I want you so much.”

  Chelsea stared at him, wide-eyed and in shock. She’d seen the way he looked at her. On some level she’d recognized the emotions as similar to what surged through her veins, but he’d pushed her away and she’d lacked the experience and confidence to do anything about his rejection. But Jared was admitting to wanting her. His hungry expression admitted to much more than his words said.

  And he liked her mouth? He must, because he was kissing it again, devouring her lips with his in urgent caresses that told a story of their own. A story where Jared cherished her.

  “You have the smile of an angel.”

  He was an angel.

  Had to be because his kisses, his touch were heavenly.

  Feeling emboldened by his praise, Chelsea stroked her fingers over his shoulders, his neck, curling into the midnight hair at his nape. The silky strands were just long enough to tangle her fingers in, wrap around her fingers, hold him to her, and show him everything in her heart. Everything that had been in her heart for what seemed like an eternity.

  She had no concept of time, of how long they stood touching, caressing, comforting, not until Jared pulled back.

  “I shouldn’t have come here. Not like this.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m taking advantage of you. Of this moment. Laura. I can’t.”

  Fear pulsed through Chelsea. She didn’t want him to leave. But any second he’d go back to the pretense they’d maintained for weeks. She was tired of pretending he wasn’t everything she’d ever wanted, because he was.

  Tonight, at this moment, he needed her, wanted her, looked at her like she was everything he’d ever wanted. That thought was heady and one that sparked her into action.

  She cupped his face, making him look at her. “You’re not taking advantage of me.”

  “I’ll just hurt you, Chelsea. It’s what I do, even when I don’t mean to.” His gaze held hers and already she could see him throwing walls up.

  “Please, don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t ruin what just happened by telling me how wrong our kiss was or how we can never have a relationship because of all the bad things that have happened or might happen.”

  He opened his mouth, and she shook her head.

  His eyes took on an increasingly tortured appearance, but he didn’t move away, didn’t launch into an argument on the detriments of office dating. Instead, he cradled her face and gently stroked his thumb over her cheek.

  She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to risk him moving his hand away. Such tenderness was conveyed in his simple touch. Tenderness that said he cared and ached for what she could give him.

  He eyed her with torn emotions, but what shone through was his need. That need undid her, made her resolve weak, her determination strong. Not sexual need, although lust was there in abundance. No, what she saw was a need to feel alive, to feel connected with another human being, to not be alone. She recognized the emotion well and hated it that the nasty feeling had a hold of Jared.

  His thumb stilled against her face, and he took a deep breath. “Tell me to go, Chelsea, please, because I don’t want to leave. God help me, I don’t want to go.”

  “Then don’t,” she whispered, not bothering to attempt to hide what was in her heart. She couldn’t have anyway. Not when she overflowed with love. “Stay with me. Let me hold you.”

  His jaw tightened. “I won’t use you. You deserve better than that. I won’t risk hurting you.”

  “I’ll hurt if you leave.”

  He closed his eyes, torment on his face.

  A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. If he left, where would he go? What would he do? Who would hold him while he fought his grief? His guilt? Would he end up shrouded behind even more emotional barricades? But if he stayed, how would she let him go in the morning and pretend nothing had happened if that’s what he wanted? Because she’d never want to let Jared go.

  When looking back on her life, she knew this moment would stand out as monumental. If she didn’t seize the opportunity to love Jared, to give to him even if he could never give back to her, she’d regret her decision, just as she’d regretted letting him walk away after she’d kissed him all those years ago.

  Laura or not, too young or not, she should have t
old him how she’d felt.

  No matter if he used her to distract himself from Connie’s death. No matter if he left her bed in the morning only to ignore her at the office. No matter if they never had anything else beyond tonight. Even if Jared took one look at her back and felt revulsion, she wanted him to stay.

  She would take what fate gave, which was one moment to the next, and in this particular moment she was right where she wanted to be. In Jared’s arms.

  Connie Black’s voice whispered in her ear, “Grab what you want and make it happen. If you love the boy, let him know. Show him what’s in your heart.”

  She stood on tiptoe and moved to within millimetres of his mouth. His eyes had opened and raged with an inner battle between logic and need.

  “I want to love you, Jared. Stay with me.”

  Despite reason warning he’d regret his actions, Jared wasn’t going anywhere.

  Not tonight.

  He couldn’t face the emptiness of his heart.

  Was that why he’d held onto his anger at Laura for so long? Why he’d held on to his guilt? Because without it he had nothing left to feel? To make him feel alive?

  At the moment he felt alive.

  More alive than he’d ever felt.

  Because of Chelsea.

  She stared at him with such longing, such sweetness. He wanted to swoop her into his arms and protect her from the world forever.

  In reality, he needed protection from her because he’d be the one to have to start over when the rubbish hit the fan, as it inevitably would.

  But he wasn’t leaving. Not when the tenderness in Chelsea’s eyes promised that drowning himself in her heaven would be worth whatever hell he later faced.

  Knowing she waited for his answer but unwilling to verbalize his weakness, he leaned in, took her mouth, and lost himself in the sweetness of her body.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALTHOUGH he hadn’t said a word since calling out her name in a passionate cry, Chelsea knew Jared was awake.

  He’d rolled onto his side, pulled her to him, and held her close. She waited for him to notice the scars on her back, to jerk away in disgust or whatever it was Kevin had felt when he’d seen the evidence of her surgeries.

  But if Jared noticed, he didn’t comment, just breathed softly into her hair.

  Tears stung her eyes although she wasn’t sure if they were from happiness, sadness, or relief.

  She loved Jared. He’d been tender and demanding and all-consuming. By no means was she an expert on sexual relations, but she didn’t need to be. What they’d shared had been special.

  “I should go.”

  So special he wanted to leave even before his breathing had returned to normal.

  Chelsea stiffened, but she didn’t beg him to stay.

  If he still wanted to go after what they’d just shared, there wasn’t anything she could say or do that would keep him with her.

  “But I’d like to stay,” he continued. “If you’ll let me.”

  Elation filled her. He wanted to stay.

  “I told you I wanted you to stay,” she reminded him. “That hasn’t changed.”

  He kissed the back of her head in a gentle peck, and Chelsea smiled. Everything would be OK.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her of what she’d been doing when her brother had called, when Jared had arrived at the beach house.

  “I have pizza and beer, if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m starved,” he admitted, brushing his lips against her hair as if he might be referring to her when he admitted to his hunger. “I missed lunch.”

  Taking care not to expose her back, she rolled, stared into his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, Jared. That you came to me.”

  His eyes searched hers for the longest time before he nodded. “Me, too.”

  After reheating several slices of pizza in the microwave, Chelsea and Jared sat on her sofa, munching. Surprisingly, Jared talked almost non-stop. Mostly about Connie Black, her daughter and grandsons, her deceased husband, and what a wonderful life they’d had.

  “I wish I’d had the opportunity to know her better,” Chelsea said, before taking a sip of her beer.

  “You’d have liked her.” He picked at the label on his glass beer bottle. “In some ways you remind me of her.”

  “I do?”

  “You’re both spunky as hell.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as one. You both have a passion for life and aren’t afraid to take risks.” He placed the bottle against his lips and took a drink. “A part of me knew she’d agree to chemotherapy again if I pushed. Maybe that’s why I pushed so hard for her to go. After Paul died, she went on, but wasn’t the same.”

  “He must have been an amazing man for her to love him so much.”

  “They complemented each other well. Paul stood by her, gave her strength during her last bout of cancer.”

  He launched into another story of a visit with Connie and Paul. When he’d finished, he looked at his empty plate, the two empty bottles on the coffee table, and then at her. “You’re easy to talk to. I find myself telling you things I never meant to say.”

  “It’s not so difficult to be a good listener when I’m interested in the topic.” She smiled. “And the person speaking.”

  His eyes darkened to a deep navy. “Where do we go from here, Chelsea? Tonight’s complicated the hell out of things, hasn’t it?”

  “I don’t see us as a complication, Jared. To me, what we share feels right.”

  Surprisingly, he nodded. He picked up an empty beer bottle and toyed with the paper label, peeling it away from the glass surface.

  “I’ll be here for you when you need me, Jared. Always.”

  Panic edged into his expression, and she wondered if she’d said too much. No. They’d just made love. If she couldn’t tell him how she felt then she sure shouldn’t have invited him into her bedroom.

  “Let me help you clean up,” he said, gathering up the bottles and heading to the kitchen.

  Chelsea stared at Jared and wondered how she’d gotten herself into this predicament. One minute they were having a great conversation on her sofa over beer and pizza, then cleaning up her kitchen, the next they’re walking on the beach hand in hand, and the next he was stripping off his shirt and asking her to go into the water with him.

  No way did she want to go skinny-dipping with Jared.

  Well, she did, but not when it meant he might see the long scars on her back.

  Was there enough moonlight that he’d notice the scars? Had he already seen them and not cared? She couldn’t buy that. Surely he’d have asked about them? She recalled his hands gliding across her shoulders, her waist, but not once had his fingers moved over her marred skin. She’d been on her back, on him…no, he didn’t know.

  “Don’t try to tell me you’re shy because I’m not going to buy it. Not after earlier.”

  Moonlight reflected off the water, glistening against his skin. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his chest, his abs, how a fine line of hair disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. How she knew exactly where that arrow led and just how perfectly his body melded with hers.

  She’d known he was gorgeous, that his body was solid and fit, but, oh, in the short time from when he’d made love to her, she’d forgotten. Or had not allowed her mind to believe that just seeing his finely muscled abdomen would make her mouth go dry and water all at the same time. She swallowed, but the motion felt more like trying to gulp sand.

  His fingers lingered at his jeans snap, drawing her gaze back to the sexy arrow of hair, making her think that no anatomy lesson had ever prepared her for Jared’s body.

  “I’m not much of a swimmer,” she mumbled above the sound of the waves.

  “I’ve heard Will talk about the vacation you two went on last summer. He took you to the Caribbean.”

  “That doesn’t mean I swim.”

  “You went scuba diving. Tell me, how did you
do that if you don’t swim?”

  He had her there.

  “Go in without me. I’m not feeling up to a swim tonight.”

  He sank down onto the sand beside her and stared at the moonlight, clearly trying to decipher her thoughts.

  “Will’s been a good brother, hasn’t he?” she asked to change the subject before he pushed to find out what caused her aversion to taking a dip.

  Jared’s jaw flexed. “Will is a good man, so I imagine he’s a good brother. Certainly, he’s always seemed to care a great deal for you.”

  “He was my hero, growing up,” she admitted, refusing to let the conversation lag.

  “Did Will rescue you from dragons?”

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Jared reached out, took her hand in his. “Were there lots of dragons in your childhood?”

  At first she thought he was making a snide comment, but a quick glance in his direction revealed he was serious. That maybe he saw more than most.

  “Enough to keep my brother busy.”

  “What about now?” His thumb caressed her palm. “Are there dragons you need rescuing from?”

  She started to say no, but realized that would be a lie. Dragons haunted her every day. Leftover dragons from her childhood. Deeply embedded dragons that said she was scarred and unlovable. Dragons that said a man like Jared wouldn’t really ever want her. Dragons that lived within herself.

  How could one be rescued from one’s self?

  “I have dragons.”

  “Fire-breathing ones?”

  “Total flamers.”

  “There’s an entire gulf full of water, Chelsea. No dragon can get to you here.” He lifted her hand, kissed it. “But I’ll stay close, just in case.”

  Jared close?

  She wanted him close. So why was he standing, watching her with dark eyes?

  He stripped off his pants, leaving only his boxers to cover his hips. Chelsea refused to look up. To do so would put her gaze right at his most private parts and she just couldn’t. Not when she so vividly recalled making love with him.