by Nina Bruhns
“Get out of here!” Jake yelled, then took off at a run to help. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
A few seconds later a rumbling began, and before their eyes, what was left of the town houses fell in on itself, erupting in a whoosh of sparks and flame.
Sully didn’t know how it happened, but when it was over he found himself sprawled on the ground, clutching Elizabeth under him in a death-grip, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
“You hurt?” he cautiously asked when he dared lift his head.
“I’m good,” she answered. “You?”
“Bien.” He closed his eyes, took a deep, steadying breath.
“It’s okay, you know.”
He opened his eyes again and looked down at her. “What is?”
“To be afraid. A fire almost killed you, Sully. If it were me, I’d be terrified. No way would you get me within a mile of another one.”
An ironic smile teased his lips. “Yeah, but I’m the fire chief, chère. Kinda goes with the territory.”
“So quit.”
“My men look to me for leadership. I can’t let them down.”
Her fingers tunneled gently in his hair. She smiled up at him. “You’re a good man, Andre Sullivan.”
Just then, a group of loud, brassy men in grimy firefighters gear tromped by. One of them spotted them lying on the ground and halted with a chortle. “Dang, Chief!” he called out good-naturedly. “Leave it to you to find the prettiest gal in the crowd to rescue. That’s not the same one as this morning, is it?”
The rest of the men laughed and waved, then they all clomped along, heading for one of the huge red engines. But when Sully glanced back down at Elizabeth, she wasn’t laughing.
“Guess we are a bit conspicuous in this position,” she said tightly, and shoved a hand against his shoulder so he rolled unceremoniously off her. She scrambled to her feet and brushed off her skirt and blouse. “Need a hand up?”
“I’ll manage.” Inwardly he cursed his men’s rude comments as he groped for his walking stick and pushed awkwardly to his feet. Knowing Andre Sullivan’s reputation, they’d probably done it on purpose—helping their confirmed bachelor captain establish solid boundaries with his newest conquest. You might have him now, baby, but tomorrow he’ll be gone. His lack of staying power with Lisa Grosvenor must have confirmed that opinion.
Sully’s stomach wrenched. Obviously Elizabeth had heard the message loud and clear. She was standing watching the remnants of the fire burn out with her arms crossed rigidly under her breasts, her face red as the flames.
Le Bon Dieu, mait la main. God help him.
“Chère,” he said softly, reaching out to touch a blond tendril that had blown across her cheek. “Don’t listen to them. That Andre Sullivan, the one they knew, he’s gone…changed. I’m just not that man anymore.”
She nodded, but her smile was strained. “It doesn’t really matter,” she said. “I have no designs on your…freedom. I’ll only be here a few days, until your doctor decides whether you can donate bone marrow or not.”
The reminder of why she was in Magnolia Cove swept through him like a cooling wind. It couldn’t be denied, she wanted something from him. A noble something, as far as he could tell, but still something she treasured beyond price. Something for which she was even willing to sacrifice her virtue—to sleep with him when she otherwise wouldn’t.
If his guess about the pencil drawing was correct, Elizabeth Hayden had wanted something from him, too. Something she treasured more than her virtue—wealth. Had she sacrificed herself to him to get it? Had her love simply been a sham? Had she playacted her affections for him for all that time, in order to put her hands on the greater prize?
The new Elizabeth had readily revealed her reasons for seeking him out and maintained she held no other secrets than a sick brother. Indeed wh at could they possibly be? She had been forthcoming, even in terms of her willingness to bargain with her favors.
Maybe it was the hated smell of smoke in his nostrils, or the heat of the flame on his skin that was causing this bout of paranoia. But suddenly, he was unsure of her, too.
He’d been so certain Elizabeth Hayden had somehow come back to life, to be with him, as Elizabeth Hamilton. But if he was right, was the present Elizabeth also out to betray him? If so, how?
He needed to find out. Before he did anything foolish. Or got in deeper. He needed a plan.
A plan that would reveal her true purpose.
A determined smile sketched itself across his face. Because he knew just the way.
When they arrived back at the Pirate’s Rest Inn, Sully pulled open the front door for Elizabeth, and asked, “Will you still help me with the laptop? I know it’s getting late, but I really should send a message to my friend. About his building burning down. Unfortunately I have no idea how.”
Being in the same room with Andre Sullivan was the last thing Elizabeth wanted at the moment, but when put that way she could hardly refuse.
“Sure,” she said, and went inside.
She had to pull herself together. Her emotions were all over the map. She’d never met a man before who brought out such contradictory feelings in her—one minute convinced he was nothing but a bounder interested only in her body, the next, not really sure if she cared. Being held in his arms made her forget everything except how good it felt to be there. Made her want things she’d never wanted before.
Being with Caleb for every waking hour she didn’t spend working on the farm and her job, she hadn’t given herself a chance to dream about falling in love or having a family of her own. Being with Sully changed all that.
Damn, she needed some distance from the man.
Except, for Caleb’s sake she had to stick close to him, to help convince him to do the bone marrow transplant, if he proved to be a match. If she avoided him, he might think she didn’t care about his answer.
Which she did. More than anything.
Enough to allow him to be interested only in her body, if that’s what he wanted?
Oh, Lord.
What had possessed her to tell him she’d say yes?
That wasn’t her, wasn’t what she was like. It wasn’t what Caleb would want her to do, either.
And yet, there was a different, hidden side to Sully that she was slowly getting to know. A vulnerable side that seemed stuck in another, simpler time; an honorable side willing to face his inner demons rather than disappoint the men who looked up to him. A romantic side that gazed at her with such longing it made her weak in the knees.
And nothing appealed to her more than the idea of making love to that more sensitive, admirable side of him.
Andre Sullivan was certainly a man of vast contradictions.
But he wasn’t interested in making love, an inner voice warned her. All he wanted was sex. To give her pleasure.
Or…had the accident really changed him?
They had reached the second-floor landing in front of her door. He stopped and gazed up the stairs as though he’d rather face a firing squad than take that last flight up to his room.
“You’re about to fall over. Why don’t we set up your laptop in my room for now?” she suggested. “By the time you’ve sent your e-mail you’ll have caught your breath and can make it up to the third floor without killing yourself.”
He sent her a look. “Have I mentioned how much I hate this?” he muttered.
“Once or twice.” With a commiserating grin, she held out her palm. “Give me your key. I’ll get the computer.”
Which she did. By the time she’d gotten back to her room, he was stretched out on the bed with his eyes closed.
She quietly set down the laptop. “Sully?” she whispered, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. He must be exhausted.
No answer.
She approached, taking in the sight of him. He was such an incredibly handsome man. Tall and well-built, broad-shouldered and brawny, his body nearly filled up all the available space on her bed. His fac
e bore the creases and angles of his outdoor life and his optimistic personality, the sculpted curve of his lips his innate sensuality.
To give her pleasure… Hell, he was a man custom-made to give a woman pleasure. She shivered at the thought of being that woman.
Would it be so wrong to give in to this one, small indiscretion? It had been so long….
She stepped back and turned, squelching the impulse to join him in her bed. She could switch rooms with him for the night. That would remove the all-too-real temptation.
But first she plugged in the laptop and got the e-mail up and running. The bright blue and yellow screen popped up and before she could react, the speaker chirped brightly, “You’ve got mail!”
She winced as Sully stirred.
“Elizabeth?” His voice was deep and rough with sleep.
“I’m here.”
“Sorry, I must have dozed off.” He made to sit up.
“No, stay where you are. I’ll sleep in your bed tonight.”
His eyes sought hers, brow raised. “The hell, you say. I’ll be damned if I finally get you into my bed and am not there to enjoy it.”
She smiled. “You have a reassuringly one-tracked mind, Chief Sullivan.”
The other brow hiked. “Reassuringly?”
“For a few minutes there I thought you might really have changed. It’s so much easier to resist a slimy skirt-chaser.”
“You wound me,” he said, his lips turning down in a moue. He flopped back on the pillow.
“You know I’m joking.”
“Aye. But not really. That’s what you think of me, and to be sure, every bit of evidence points to the truth of it. The problem is, the evidence is all from before the accident.”
“True.” Could a near-death experience really change a man’s inner core? But…if for whatever reason he was faking his amnesia…was this just an act?
“Give me a chance, Elizabeth,” he urged. “The new me.”
Suddenly she realized what was bothering her more than anything else.
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you want me to give you a chance? Why not just take what I once offered with just that one string attached, that you plan to do anyway?”
And if he said a single word about Sullivan Fouquet and his tragic fiancée, Elizabeth, she would walk right out the door. Not because it would prove he was crazy, but because she wanted to be wanted for herself, not that she reminded him of some far-fetched figment of his imagination.
Though, crazy…yeah, crazy would be bad, too.
“Why do I want you?” His gaze raked over her. “Join me in this bed and I’ll show you why.”
She tipped her head, disappointed. “Your argument is a circular one. I’m not denying our chemistry, Sully. I’m pretty sure sex with you would be incredible. But you’re trying to convince me you’re not interested in meaningless sex. Joining you in bed doesn’t seem the answer.”
“Who said anything about meaningless?” The corner of his mouth crooked up. “At least lie down here next to me while we discuss it.”
The man was truly incorrigible. “Sully…”
“I kept my promise last night, didn’t I?”
She had to admit he had. As far as it went. If the phone hadn’t rung, though…
He scooted to one side and patted the mattress next to him. “Vien.”
And there was another thing that bothered her. The Cajun accent and French words. He’d even stopped correcting himself when he used them.
“Lizzie?”
She’d probably live to regret it.
She knew darn well she wasn’t strong enough to resist him if he genuinely tried to seduce her.
But she also knew she’d kick herself for the rest of her life if she didn’t make up her mind and resolve this insane situation one way or another.
She was an adult. If she wanted to sleep with the man, she would sleep with him. If she didn’t, well, then she wouldn’t. But she would do neither out of fear—fear of talking things out. Fear of learning what he really wanted of her.
“All right,” she said, and slipped out of her shoes. He hadn’t made it easy. He’d moved to the near side of the bed, forcing her to climb over him to get to the empty side.
She supposed it was that playing with fire thing again, but for some unfathomable reason, it pushed a button with her. She took up his challenge.
Deliberately she slid her body over his, letting her breasts and thighs brush against his chest and hips, and the ends of her long hair trail over his mouth.
All at once his hands grasped her around the ribs, stopping her movement, holding her fast above him. Unafraid, she looked down into his smoldering eyes.
Her hands were to either side of his head, her knees bent outside his thighs, but he’d taken complete control of her with his powerful grip. Slowly he lowered her so the tips of her breasts once again brushed over his chest. He moved her, a fraction of an inch, then back again. Her nipples zinged with electric sensation, sending curls of aching want straight to her center. Then he did it again.
Neither of them spoke, but his gauntlet was so deliberate and obvious there was no need. The only question was, what was she going to do about it?
Was this what they meant by eyes wide open?
“Why?” she repeated, her throat tight with desire for him. Unwilling to give in without an answer.
“Because you want me. And I want you.”
“That’s—” she swallowed, lied “—not good enough.”
He let her slip down a little in his grip, so her breasts pillowed into his chest. So their mouths were nearly touching. So his lengthening, hardening arousal pressed provocatively between her legs.
“Non?”
“No,” she affirmed.
“Because you want more.”
“Yes. No. I—I don’t know.”
“Because you want more,” he repeated softly, “but you don’t trust me. Or—”
He spun them over and she landed under him, his tall, hard frame pushing her deep into the feather bed. She gasped, grappling with the strong hands that captu red her wrists and held.
“Or perhaps,” he continued, “you hesitate because you feel guilty.”
She stilled her struggles at his words, staring up at him. “It’s true, I would feel guilty asking you to go through another painful medical procedure,” she said, “if it turns out you’re a match for Caleb.” She swallowed again, heavily. “But that wouldn’t keep me from sleeping with you. If anything…” She halted the thought before it could escape.
His brows arched elegantly. “Out of pity? Really, Elizabeth, you insult me now.”
“Not pity,” she murmured contritely. “Comfort. Ease. Gratitude.” She exhaled. “Heartfelt gratitude.”
He studied her from above, his eyes black, inscrutable. “Nothing more?”
The blood in her veins seemed to thicken, the strength in her limbs to desert her. Her heart thudded fast in her chest as his relentless gaze refused to release her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Desire.”
“Desire for what, chère?”
“To feel you inside me.”
Chapter 6
I t was all the invitation Sully needed.
He was satisfied she was hiding nothing from him, but even if he weren’t, it had been too long and he wanted her too badly to stop now.
He covered her mouth with his and kissed her. Kissed her hard and deep, until he felt the melting of her limbs beneath him and heard her moans of surrender.
“Why do I want you?” he murmured, lifting so he could see the need in her half-lidded eyes and the flare of her nostrils, the blush of desire on her cheeks. “Because you’re mine, Elizabeth. I recognized it the moment I saw you. It’s no use fighting fate. You belong with me.”
He let her wrists go and reached for her blouse. Her hand covered his as he went for the buttons.
“You thought I was someone else when you first saw me, Sully. But I’m not her, and I don�
��t want—”
“A mistake,” he interrupted, swiftly undoing the top buttons. “She betrayed me, chère. In the past. Pretended to be something she wasn’t, to feel something she didn’t. But you would never do that, non?”
“Of course not!”
He lost patience, and with a quick yank, ripped her blouse open. Buttons flew everywhere. She gasped as he put his lips to the slope of her breast and feasted on her lush flesh. Shoving aside the lacy garment that covered it, he took her pebbled nipple in his mouth and suckled deeply.
Her body bowed under him and he groaned with the powerful, grinding want that coursed through him from his toes to the roots of his hair. It had been so damned long….
His senses filled with her, with the sweet womanly scent of her, the silken feel of her soft curves, the taste of her on his tongue. The needy moans…
He tugged uselessly at the scrap of lace. “Take it off,” he ordered, pulling her upright to peel off her blouse. In a twinkling he had her skirt off and the rest as well, so she was finally naked in his arms.
“Si belle,” he murmured, the words clogging his throat at the sight of her pale beauty. “You take my breath away.”
She twined her arms around his neck and smiled shyly as her lips met his. “Your turn,” she whispered.
“Mais, yeah,” he answered, his voice low and husky. “I fully intend to take your breath away…and more than once.”
Elizabeth had never been made love to as Sully made love to her. With his tongue he swept away every doubt, every hesitation, every thought of ease or gratitude. With his lips he breathed life into her body, which had up until this moment lain dormant, waiting for this man to awaken it. With his touch, he convinced her that all he said was true.
She belonged with him.
With slow, sure moves, he kissed and licked and touched her everywhere. For blissful hours he learned her body inch by inch, lingering in all the places that made her shiver and quake in pleasure.
He took her breath away. More than once.
And then he came inside her, thrusting into her, filling her to bursting with his thick, hard length. And took her breath away again.
