Her Baby's Father

by Rebecca York

  He did, and after a few moments, she felt it bump against her face, then come down lower.

  “I felt it.”

  “Can you tie it around your waist?”

  With one cautious hand, she fumbled for the end. It was at her shoulder level, with no length to spare.

  “It’s not long enough.”

  She heard him curse softly.

  “How long is it?”

  “Fifteen feet, I think.”

  That must be how far she’d fallen.

  “Grab the end, and I’ll pull you up.”

  Cautiously, she transferred one hand to the rope, grasping it firmly before she let go of the root with the other hand. When the rope swayed, she gritted her teeth.

  “Okay?” Jack called down, and she knew that he’d taken her weight on the upper end of the line.

  “Yes, but I’m going to keep my feet braced against one side and my back against the other,” she called up.

  “Good.” As he began to pull on the rope, she walked her feet up the side of the well, feeling the rough brick scrape against her back.

  It was agonizingly slow going.

  Jack kept reeling in the rope, and she did as much as she could from below.

  Perhaps she was three feet from the top when the line lurched and dropped a few inches. She gasped, picturing herself tumbling all the way to the bottom. But she didn’t drop any farther.

  “Sorry. My hand caught on something sharp.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  He waited a beat before pulling her upward again, this time more slowly.

  There wasn’t far to go. She could feel the air growing warmer as he pulled her toward the surface. Finally, when she dared to look up, she could see the rim above her.

  “Hang on.” With one more mighty heave, Jack pulled her over the edge, and she saw him kneeling over her as she flopped out onto the ground.

  They were both breathing hard.

  “Thank God,” he cried out, gathering her close. “Are you all right?”

  “Just scared. And maybe a little bruised.”

  He hugged her to him, and she clung just as tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  “Taking you out here. It was a dumb idea.”

  “You didn’t know the well was open.”

  “But—”

  “You saved me.”

  She pressed her mouth to his.

  Perhaps in some part of her mind, she had intended it to be a reassuring kiss. Or maybe a simple thank-you.

  But as soon as his lips touched hers, the moment turned frantic.

  As he held her in his arms, the realization slammed into her that she might have died.

  She started to tremble. He was trembling, too, as he ran his hands over her back, her shoulders, gathering her closer, so that she melted against him.

  In this reality they had known each other only a few days. But for Sara it was so much longer.

  Maybe in some way he knew that, too.

  No. That wasn’t possible.

  Still, he kissed her as though she were precious to him.

  When he angled his head first one way and then the other, she made a small, needy sound.

  Lying back on the grass, he pulled her on top of himself so that her body sprawled along the length of his.

  One of his hands slid down her body, holding her tightly. She felt his erection and moved against him, making her craving for him worse.

  She was all raw nerves and desperate feelings that the fall into the well had unleashed.

  Needing more, she clasped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her breasts against his chest.

  The fall might have ended in disaster. Now she needed to affirm her escape. In Jack Morgan’s arms.

  As they clung to each other, it was only a small leap to the next step. He must feel it, too. The need to claim her for his own.

  Somewhere along the line, she had forgotten where they were. Forgotten everything but the man who held her in his arms.

  His hands stroked over her back, then down to her hips while he kissed her like a starving man offered a feast.

  He worked his hand between them and cupped her breast, then glided his thumb across the beaded nipple.

  It felt so good.

  How long had it been since he’d touched her like that?

  Too long. An eternity.

  She might have worked her skirt up and reached for his belt buckle, but a burst of music from the mansion made them both go still. It must be the sound system. Somebody had turned it up for a moment, then quickly adjusted the volume again, but that was enough to inject reality into the moment.

  “Sara,” he murmured, holding on to her for seconds before he sat up, bringing her with him. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For going too far.”

  “Did it seem like I was objecting?”

  “No.” He looked around at the darkened woods. “But this isn’t a good place for…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  She moved off his lap, running a hand through her hair, removing a twig.

  “I must look like a mess,” she whispered. “I can’t go back to the party.”

  “Right.”

  He helped her up. But as he stood, he winced.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, and she knew he didn’t want her to know his injured leg had taken a beating as he’d struggled to get her out of the well.

  He swiveled around, staring into the darkness. “I know you want to go home, but do you mind if I take a look around first?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’d like to see if I can figure out what the hell happened out here, before we arrived.”

  “Somebody was careless.”

  “Hard to believe.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “I need a flashlight. There’s one in the garage. We should be able to get in there and out without the guests seeing us.”

  She wasn’t so sure, but she wasn’t going to object. It sounded like he thought someone had deliberately taken the cover off the well, which might mean he was starting to think in the right direction.

  “My shoes,” she whispered.

  “What about them?”

  “They’re in the water down there.”

  “I’ll get you another pair.”

  “Please, there’s no need.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  She could think of a lot more he could do. In fact, she was going to make sure he did it, when they got back to the warehouse. But she wasn’t going to share those plans.

  Instead, she walked silently with him back toward the house, looking at the blazing lights shining from the huge mansion. The idea of getting anywhere near the party made her stomach churn, but so did staying out here by herself.

  They skirted the lit area, as he led her to a side door, which was unlocked.

  It led directly to the garage.

  Inside, he switched on a light, then walked to the utility shelves along one wall. Tools and other equipment were neatly arranged by somebody who valued order in his life.

  “Is this your father’s stuff?” she asked.

  He laughed. “You don’t think he fixes anything by himself, do you?”

  “Some executives enjoy hands-on work.”

  “Not Dad. This is where Bruce, our handyman, keeps his tools.”

  “Could he have taken the cover off the well?”

  “Why would he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jack took a flashlight off the shelf and led her back the way they’d come.

  They had just stepped back out of the garage when a figure blocked their path.

  A woman gasped, and Sara realized that they had run into Carolyn Morgan, of all the bad luck.

  Chapter Ten

  Beside Sara, Jack cleared his throat. “Mom? What are you doing out here?”

  “Going out to see
if the caterers have more dessert in the truck. They’re running out of it in the kitchen.” She gave them a careful inspection, and Sara had to keep from finger-combing her hair or smoothing out her dress.

  But she couldn’t stop from moving her arm, which brought Carolyn’s attention to her.

  “What have you been doing?” she asked, taking a better look at Sara’s disheveled appearance.

  “I was showing Sara the property, and she fell down,” Jack answered.

  Mrs. Morgan’s expression looked a shade less hostile until her gaze dropped to Sara’s feet. “What happened to your shoes?”

  “Lost them in the fall,” Jack said.

  “This is sounding very odd.”

  “We’re going out to have a look for them,” Jack said, holding up the flashlight.

  Which probably didn’t help, Sara thought. Probably his mother assumed they’d been rolling around on the ground and misplaced her shoes. Maybe Carolyn even assumed she and Jack were high on drugs.

  She wanted to say, “It’s not what you think.” But she knew the protest would only make it worse.

  “You’d better get those desserts,” Jack said. With his free hand, he knit his fingers with Sara’s, and they started back down the hill. But she could feel Mrs. Morgan’s gaze burning into her back.

  “You know what she thinks we were doing,” she whispered.

  “Do you care?”

  “Actually, yes. With you, it doesn’t matter so much, but for me it doesn’t make a good impression, and I want your parents to like me.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She did worry, but she didn’t keep arguing. He’d been secure in his place in the family for years, and he wasn’t going to understand her point of view.

  They were more cautious as they walked back to the shade of the trees. Jack played the light around the grass.

  “Footprints,” he said, pointing.

  “They could be yours.”

  “Yeah.” He searched for a little while longer. “But they lead off this way.” He followed the trail and found the wooden top that should have covered the well. It was several yards away, half-hidden in a raspberry thicket.

  “I don’t think a fox dragged it,” he said.

  “I guess not. What do you think it means?”

  He shrugged. “Nobody knew we were coming out here. I mean, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  “Uh-huh.” She racked her brain for a way to make something more specific of it but couldn’t think of anything that would sound plausible.

  They returned to the garage, where he replaced the flashlight. And she was thankful that they didn’t run into any other guests.

  As they drove away, she breathed out a little sigh. But the closer they got to the warehouse, the more she felt her nerves jumping.

  Maybe Jack’s were, too, because the moment was ripe with possibilities.

  When he pulled up at the loading dock, she said, “Come in.”

  “Yes.”

  She got out, glad that she hadn’t lost her evening bag. There wasn’t much inside because she hadn’t been driving herself to the party, but she did need her key to get back into the warehouse.

  They stepped into the shadowy storage area, and she led him down the central aisle to her apartment where she’d left one lamp burning.

  She’d been thinking about inviting him in before she’d left. The room was straightened up. And the lamp cast a warm, inviting glow on her eclectic furnishings.

  He stood looking around a little uncertainly. Likely he would chicken out if she didn’t press the issue.

  “All during the party, I was thinking about being alone with you.” Reaching for him, she wrapped him in her arms, holding tight. For a moment he held himself stiffly, and she knew why. He was worried about what she would think when she saw his body.

  It was going to make her think of everything he had endured, but she couldn’t tell him that.

  “Jack, don’t fight what’s between us.”

  “We haven’t known each other very long.”

  That might be true for him. Not for her. Again she couldn’t explain that. Instead, she said, “It feels to me like I’ve known you for ages.”

  Her heart was pounding so hard that she thought it might break through the wall of her chest as she waited to hear what he would say.

  It was only one word. “Yes.” Spoken in a voice rough with emotion.

  “Because this is so right,” she answered.

  His resistance crumbled. With a sound low in his throat, he slanted his mouth over hers. His lips touched down, settled. And then he was devouring her the way he had after he’d rescued her.

  His response thrilled her to the marrow of her bones. Finally, after all this time, he was in her arms, kissing her with uncensored emotions. She had been longing for this moment since she’d realized where she was. And when.

  Or had she been waiting for centuries?

  Was this the wrong thing to do? So early in their relationship? She didn’t think so. And it didn’t matter because she couldn’t stop now. Not when she knew how much the two of them had meant to each other.

  No, what they would mean to each other. This was only the start of something extraordinary.

  With her eyes closed, she held on to him as they swayed together, neither of them steady on their feet.

  Needing more of him, she reached around him, tugging at the bottom of his dress shirt, pulling it from his slacks so that she could slip her hands under the shirt and flatten her palms against the heated flesh of his back.

  He drew in a sharp breath when she moved her fingers against him.

  It had been like this before. With her taking the lead because she’d sensed his reserve. Now that she understood better where it came from, she had no intention of letting it stop her from getting what she craved. What they both craved.

  She wanted him naked, but she also wanted him so hot that it would be impossible for him to refuse her. And she knew she was halfway there because she could feel his erection pressing against her middle.

  She wanted to unbuckle his belt, lower his zipper and reach inside to clasp him. But she knew that was much too bold. Instead she swayed in his arms, moving her body against his, tantalizing both of them with the friction of it.

  “I don’t want to stop,” he whispered.

  “Neither do I.”

  “I need to tell you…”

  She raised her face, her gaze meeting his.

  He swallowed. “I’ve got some scars that aren’t very pretty.”

  “Do you think I care about that?”

  “You haven’t seen them.”

  She was so drunk with arousal that she almost told him that she had.

  Instead, she reached for the buttons at the front of his shirt, undoing them, until the sides of the shirt hung open. Pushing the fabric aside, she touched his chest, tracing the line of a scar, then bending to follow her finger with her lips.

  “Medals of honor.”

  He made a snorting sound.

  “And you worked hard to get yourself back into shape.”

  “Reasonable shape.”

  “You’re a hero. In so many ways.”

  “I don’t think of myself that way.”

  He stopped protesting as she found his nipples, tracing circles around them, then replacing one of her fingers with her tongue, tasting him, reveling in the puckered texture of the nubs and the shiver that went through him.

  She stepped away so that she could toss throw pillows onto the floor, then turn back the coverlet.

  “Can you unzip my dress?” she asked, her voice barely under her control.

  “Yes.”

  When she turned around, he lowered the zipper. Baring her back.

  The sundress was the kind that made a bra unnecessary. She tugged down the front, exposing her breasts. Then she pulled the dress the rest of the way down so that she was wearing nothing but her sheer panties.

  Still standing b
ehind her, Jack made a strangled sound, reaching around her, his hands cupping her breasts, taking their weight in his hands.

  She leaned against him, arching her back as he stroked his thumbs over her nipples, wringing a little sob from her.

  “That’s so good,” she managed to say.

  “Oh, yes.”

  She remained against him as he played with her breasts, before stroking one hand farther down her body, into her panties, then into the slick, wet folds of her most intimate secrets.

  He pressed her back against himself, one hand at her breasts, the other at her sex, giving her pleasure beyond imagining.

  Maybe he wanted to push her over the edge, to give himself an excuse to stop there. Before he could tease her any further, she turned in his arms, undoing his belt buckle, then lowering his fly so that she could reach into his pants and clasp her hand around him.

  He dragged in a ragged breath as she stroked him, pushing him past the point where he was going to object to her looking at his mangled leg, or anything else.

  She brushed his shirt off of his shoulders, then dragged his pants and underwear down, clasping his naked body to hers.

  They clung together for a breathless moment before she eased them both onto the bed.

  He came down on top of her, kissing her, stroking her, saying her name.

  Opening her legs, she guided him to her, and they both cried out as he claimed her.

  He looked down at her in wonder, and she was sure he only half believed that they were doing this.

  She thrust against him, and he answered her, the intensity building between them into an explosion of pleasure and satisfaction she had never imagined.

  Not last time and not now.

  He followed her into ecstasy, clinging to her, his breath ragged, and she stroked the damp skin of his back, so grateful for this time together.

  He rolled off of her, flopping to his back, turning his head toward her.

  She reached for his hand, linking her fingers with his and holding tight, and he answered the pressure. Having him in her bed again was a miracle. She wanted to weep with the joy of it, but she held back the tears as she lay beside him.

  “I’m glad you…trusted me enough for that,” she murmured.

  “I’ve been alone for a while.”

  She nodded against his shoulder.

  “I didn’t take you to the party expecting to end up in your bed,” he said.