One Night That Changed Everything

by Tina Beckett

  “She’s an obstetrician. I’m sure she’s used to working crazy hours. Babies can’t be programmed to arrive during a nine-to-five workday.” The words came out with a bitter edge she didn’t understand.

  She swallowed her food. “Exactly. Which is why I don’t want to call her for any little thing.”

  “You were attacked by a moose—banged around by him. Isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?”

  “I’m fine. Not even bruised. I think my recovery consisted of sleeping.” She set her jaw. “I’m not calling her.”

  “Fine.” A flash of anger went through his eyes, but he didn’t say anything more.

  There was no sound for the next few minutes, other than eating. Hannah kept her head down, wishing her hair was long enough to shade her face and afford her a bit more privacy.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Greg’s soft voice came across the bar, and she looked up in surprise as he continued. “I forget that other doctors don’t get the kind of satisfaction from their jobs that I do.”

  “Just because they don’t work themselves into the ground it doesn’t mean they don’t find satisfaction in what they do. I enjoy having weekends off. It helps me recharge my batteries.”

  “I’m not judging you or anyone else. It’s simply how I’ve chosen to live my life.”

  How he’d chosen to live his life. So he’d made a conscious decision at some point in time to work this hard? If so, she thought she knew when that had been.

  “Because of your sister?”

  His fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “You said you became an oncologist because of her.” She forced the words past the lump in her throat. “Is that why you work so hard?”

  “Yes.” The word came out as simply and smoothly as silk. Things clicked into place a little bit further.

  “You once said it was because you wanted to help others like her, but is it more than that? Do feel guilty for being alive? Are you paying some type of penance?”

  He seemed to consider that for a minute. “No, but we were pretty close. Her death came as a shock—it was more sudden than anyone expected, a couple of days after one of her chemo treatments. Her doctor was nowhere to be found when she got to the hospital. I never want that to happen with my patients.”

  “You can’t be available every second of every day.”

  “No, but I also don’t have to live at the golf course or the ski slopes, depending on the season.”

  “Are you saying that’s what your sister’s doctor did?”

  “He has quite a reputation in Ketchikan, from what I’ve learned.”

  “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  His left shoulder lifted and fell. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

  Was he? His behavior said he wasn’t.

  “It never seems that long ago.” She spoke from the experience of her own health crisis. Maybe someday in the distant future she’d look back at her cancer as some tiny speck in her rearview mirror instead of the huge black mass that stood just off to the side, waiting to slide into her path and derail her dreams. Just like that moose from yesterday had sent the other car careening off the road. It could happen suddenly. Without warning.

  Even as she thought it, the fear inched closer, rising in front of her.

  You ‘re fine, Hannah. Healthy. Strong.

  She pulled in a deep cleansing breath, let it back out. Sucked down another.

  A hand covered hers. “Hey, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you’ve been down that path, too.”

  “It’s stupid. I just can’t seem to get past it, to…” Horror of horror, tears washed up her throat and gathered in her eyes. She blinked furiously, trying to suppress them in any way she could.

  Greg got up from his seat and came around to the other side of the bar, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing her face into the solid warmth of his chest. “I know the feeling. I promise you, I do. If I could do something to make sure the cancer doesn’t ever come back, I would. I swear it.”

  “I know.” She sniffed. “It’s not you. It’s me. And I know you’d do the same for your sister, if you could. You’re trying to make it up to her with each patient you save.”

  He cupped her face, tilting it so she was forced to look at him. His thumbs stroked across her cheekbones sending a slow shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cold. Nothing to do with fear. “You’re probably one of the few people who could ever understand that. One of the few who could fathom why I never wanted children…a wife.”

  A stabbing pain went through her chest, and she tried to pull away, only to have him hold her in place. She’d known this all along, was a fool to believe him when he’d said he wanted to be involved with this child, if it was his.

  He didn’t want a baby. Any baby.

  “Let me go, Greg, please.” Otherwise the tears she’d successfully fought back could start gushing through the crack in her soul.

  “I can’t.” His eyes bored into hers. “I didn’t want kids, but the thought that this—” one hand left her face to splay low across her tummy “—might be mine has messed with my head in ways you can’t even imagine.”

  Maybe that kiss on her forehead yesterday hadn’t been her imagination after all. Maybe he was just as confused as she seemed to be. She’d gone from wanting to stay as far away from him as she could to wanting to be closer to him than any human being possibly could. If nothing else, she could admit it.

  “Mine, too.” She forced a smile. “It was a whole lot easier when I thought those cells came from the end of a catheter.”

  “Easier.” He smiled back at her. “But not quite as much fun.”

  Any remaining tears receded at his gentle, teasing tone. “You know what they say about natural being better than modified. We could always put a stamp on you and call you organic.”

  He laughed, then his head dipped, his cheek sliding against hers. The still rough whiskers from last night scraped across her skin, and his scent filled her nostrils. Then his lips were at her ear, causing gooseflesh to rise on her arms as he whispered into it, “I think what’s going on between us is pretty organic.”

  His words sent a jet of raw need spurting through her system, sweeping along her senses until every cell in her body was waiting in hungry anticipation.

  Those cells didn’t have long to wait because he soon retraced the same path his cheek had taken, only this time with his mouth. When he reached her lips he hovered there for a second or two as if debating options.

  Only there was no option, even he had to see that. “Kiss me, Greg.”

  Very slowly, his hand moved to her nape, fingers sliding into the short strands of her hair. “I don’t want to do this.”

  Oh, yes, he did. She could feel it in the tension radiating from him, in the way his hand applied just enough pressure to keep her from moving away from him. And Hannah gloried in it. Rejoiced that a man—this man—could be so attracted to her that he was willing to ignore his rational side just to have her. And he wanted her in spite of the effects of the chemotherapy that were still very evident in her body and mind—her short hair, her scars, her moments of unbridled terror.

  He didn’t seem to care about any of that.

  And hanging in the balance was everything he claimed to want in life—everything he said he didn’t want.

  That didn’t stop his head from beginning that fatal descent, didn’t stop his lips from meeting hers in a delirious, electrifying kiss from which there was no hope of escape.

  And the last thing Hannah wanted was to escape.

  All she wanted, was him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  FIVE seconds after Hannah wrapped her arms around his neck, strong hands swept her off the barstool and carried her somewhere. She didn’t open her eyes to look. Didn’t care where they were going.

  All she knew was that there was nothing like the sensation of this man’s lips on hers, the crazy things his tou
ch did to her on the inside—and on the outside, where her nipples were already pressing against her shirt, her body moistening in anticipation of what was going to happen.

  What she hoped was going to happen.

  Greg moved her in a way that no other man ever had. From the moment he’d come onto the scene, her life had gone topsy-turvy. In some ways those changes had been terrible beyond belief, and in other ways they had been more wonderful than words could express.

  This was one such moment.

  He kicked at a door, muttering a curse under his breath when it evidently bounced back and caught him in the shoulder. She smiled against his lips. “Oh, an ouchie. Do you want me to kiss it?”

  “No.” The growled word was followed by a quick hard press of his mouth to hers. “I have better places for you to kiss.”

  A wave of need rose up inside her, and just like the time in his office she wanted him to consume her in a fiery rush, wanted him so badly that she shook with it. It made her crazy, confused her in ways that she’d never been before.

  She loved it. And hated it.

  And where she should grab on to the latter thought and start waving it like a white flag in front of her raging libido, her mind embraced the former, to the point where she didn’t know if the idea of love referred to the man himself or what he did to her.

  Please don’t let it be the man.

  The plea had barely been processed when her back met the same soft surface it had yesterday afternoon, only this time Greg followed her down. And his reassuring kiss was not on her forehead but had moved to her throat where the touch was anything but comforting. Instead it made her squirm against him, arching her neck to give him better access.

  “I thought you had places you wanted me to kiss.”

  “I lied.” One of his jeans-clad legs nudged between her thighs, the weight of it resting on her most sensitive spot. She resisted the urge to shift her hips to increase the pressure.

  His mouth slid down to her collarbone, licking across something before kissing it gently.

  The scar from her port.

  The almost reverent act made her breath catch and tears once again appeared on the horizon, but he’d already moved lower, to where the V of her shirt dipped, showing the slightest curve of her breast.

  His lifted his head, all teasing gone. “Do you want me to use protection?”

  Her mind whirred. She was already pregnant, had already had him without anything between them. It seemed silly to backtrack at this late point. “No.”

  Greg moved back up and took her mouth again, showing her with his tongue and teeth that he approved of her decision. Her own heart threatened to hammer its way from her chest as he mimicked the long strokes from a few weeks ago. She reached up to hold him against her, needing him to continue doing exactly what he was doing.

  He didn’t disappoint, sliding his left hand to her breast, finding her nipple even through the padding of her bra. Sensation arced from her breast to her center, where his leg was still exerting delicious pressure.

  Moaning against his mouth, she couldn’t stop herself from lifting her hips this time, and a wave of need hit her system when she did, moving through her like wildfire. She pressed closer still.

  Greg reacted by shifting his weight and removing temptation.

  “No! What are you doing?”

  He kissed her mouth before answering. “Slowing things down a little bit. Last time was—” he paused “—great, but I want this to last.”

  Last? Who cared about lasting? She wanted him, and she wanted him now.

  But Greg evidently had no intention of letting her call the shots because despite her low sound of displeasure he smoothed her hair off her forehead then kissed her eyes, her cheeks, the tip of her chin.

  When he acted like he was going to avoid her mouth, she put her hands to the back of his head and pulled him to her. He obliged, his lips sliding across hers repeatedly, the subtle friction nearly driving her insane before he finally kissed her the way she wanted to be kissed.

  She melted with a sigh.

  “Better?” he whispered.

  “Much.”

  Her neck, which had been straining up in an effort to reach him, relaxed into the pillows with a sigh as he deepened the kiss, following her down. Her hands, no longer needing their feverish grip on his head, wandered over his back, feeling the bunching of muscles as he moved in time with the give and take of their joined mouths.

  The same way those muscles would react when they were joined in other areas. Would he have to get rid of the bed afterward, like he’d done with his desk?

  She almost laughed. These little rendezvous could end up costing him a fortune if this became a regular event.

  No. Don’t think about that right now. Just enjoy the time you have together. That’s what you vowed to do, right? Take life as it came and not worry about what might happen in the future.

  Yes. That was better.

  So much better that…

  Her hands went from holding on to shoving at his chest.

  His “What are you—?” was drowned by her laughter as she turned the tables, flipping him onto his back in a smooth move that would have made any ju jitsu instructor proud.

  “I assume you had a reason for doing that?” His brows went up.

  “Mmm-hmm.” She wiggled her hips against his rigid length. “I’m taking charge.”

  He groaned. “I thought we’d already settled this. We’re going slow.”

  “I’m not interested in slow.” To prove her point, she sat up, her legs straddling his hips—where she could still feel a definite spark of interest—and stripped off her shirt. Her bra followed a second later. She trailed the garment across his lips, up one of his arms. He wrapped his hand around it and flung it to the side.

  “Hannah…”

  “Spoilsport.” She leaned forward, her breasts flattening against his chest, and used her hand to cover his mouth. “I’ve already decided how this is going to go, so no use trying to stop me.”

  He nipped at her hand until she removed it. “Believe me, I have no intention of stopping you.”

  “Well, good.” She sat up again. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.”

  She slid higher, until she was on his belly, her hand reaching behind her to find the zipper of his jeans and that delicious hard ridge that lay just beneath it. Placing her palm over the swell of his flesh, she stroked him for a second or two, until he sat up in a rush, dumping her back onto his lap.

  “My turn,” he said, his breathing not quite steady.

  His hands slid over the skin of her back, hot and urgent as they headed down, edging beneath the waistband of her slacks and cupping her bare butt.

  She smiled. “Oh, I like that.”

  “Yes? Then how about this?” He jerked her forward until she was pressed tight against him, his strong grip rocking her along his length. The breath she’d been holding rushed from her lungs in an audible gasp as a sudden jolt of sensation gripped her center. From zero to a hundred in under a second and a half.

  Her eyes closed at the heady knowledge that he was using her body to massage his own, to heighten his pleasure, even as hers skyrocketed, as well. Her thighs, forced wide by his hips, made her fully aware that only a few centimeters of clothing separated them, and even that couldn’t stop the torturous friction that had her rushing closer to oblivion with each passing second.

  She gripped his shoulders for all she was worth as he increased the speed and pressure, his own body static, while hers rose and fell. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, knowing if she was going to ask him to slow down, it needed to be now. But she’d started this…claimed she didn’t want to go slow…so he was giving her exactly what she’d demanded. What she wanted. What she…

  The black depths of his pupils appeared before her as she struggled in vain to stay afloat, but this wave was too tall, too wild, too…

  She buried her face against his neck with a hoarse cry as everything inside
of her seemed to implode all at once, her mind blanking out as her body shattered into a thousand pieces and then fell back together again in a rush.

  Hannah was vaguely aware that while Greg’s hands still held her tightly against him, he was no longer dragging her along at a punishing pace. But his body was still hard. Still tense.

  She leaned back to look at him, trying to breathe as she gathered her thoughts. “Wh-what, exactly, was that supposed to be?”

  His crooked grin was unrepentant. “That was fast. Just like you wanted.”

  Fast.

  It had been that. And more. Her legs were still trembling from the force of her explosion.

  “What about you?”

  “Me?” His hands came up, one splaying across the middle of her back and the other cupping her head. “I already told you. I’m all about slow.”

  As if to demonstrate exactly what he meant, he laid her gently backward an inch at a time, until she was again lying on the bed, her head at the opposite end this time. Once she was there, he reached down and unbuttoned her jeans, the act taking her all the way back to the first step on the stairway she’d just climbed. She looked at the distance from here to where she’d just been and sighed.

  Mmm.

  Slow sounded like a very, very good idea.

  “Annie, look what someone made for you.” Greg brought out a neon purple hat one of his other patients—who’d seen Annie in his office a week ago—had knitted for her out of some kind of soft furry yarn.

  The child’s eyes widened as she reached for it, her fingers sinking deep as she hugged it to her. Her happiness contrasted with the bittersweet emotions circling within his own chest.

  “It’s so soft,” she said. “Just like my kitty’s fur. Are you sure it’s for me?”

  He smiled, the wonder on her face tugging at something inside him. “Is your favorite color purple?” He nodded at the lavender tank top covering her thin frame.

  “Yes. But how did the person know what color I liked?”

  He glanced up at Hannah, who stood in the doorway, a file pressed to her belly as she watched the scene unfold.