by James, Sandy
That seemed odd. “Really? You don’t go out to go shopping or to walk the dog or—”
“I don’t have a dog.” Was that hurt in her voice? Because she didn’t have a pet? Or because she didn’t get outside much?
“Fine. How about getting groceries or—”
She interrupted him again. “Hannah takes care of that. I’m usually...” He waited, but she never completed the sentence.
Josh decided she could be a very difficult person to talk to. Constant interruptions. Incomplete thoughts. She kept him on his toes, too. Those eyes held wisdom he had yet to tap. “Usually what?”
“Busy,” she drawled the word out in two long syllables.
Sarah settled into a leisurely pace, slowing often to look at flowers or birds along the way. “It’s May, isn’t it?”
Was she for real? “You don’t know what month it is?”
She didn’t answer, choosing instead to stare at the sidewalk as they walked. Step after step, they left her house behind. The constant quiet bothered him, and it took all his concentration not to start rambling about something, anything just to get her to talk. Sarah didn’t say another word until they reached the entrance of a park.
“It’s very pretty here,” she finally said in a voice so soft he almost missed the remark altogether. “Especially if it’s May.”
Leading the way, she stopped at a small stone water fountain next to one of the picnic shelters. Bending at the waist, Sarah gently lifted the curtain of her hair aside and sipped the water. Josh couldn’t stop himself from staring at her. Her skin was dappled with the shadows cast by the leaves of a large tree, her lips dampened by the stream of water she drank from. Her tongue darted out to lick drops of moisture away. His whole body tightened in response.
Sarah finished her drink and straightened, trying not to groan from the stiffness in her back. She glanced over to Josh and was shocked at how intensely he was gawking at her. Self-consciously running a hand across her mouth to make sure water wasn’t clinging to her chin and then smoothing her hands down her sweater, she wondered for a moment just how pitiful she looked. Tucking loose tendrils of her pathetically bland hair behind each ear, she tried not to be too dismayed. Joshua obviously wouldn’t find her attractive. Then she scolded herself for even caring.
The man was having an unsettling effect on her. As they had walked to the park, a light breeze seemed to be constantly sending his scent her way. And he smelled so good. Clean. Masculine. She recognized the scent of Calvin Klein’s Eternity from the last time she’d been to the mall. That seemed far too long ago.
Sarah had a hard time pretending to ignore him. She had to keep reminding herself what he was, how he was plotting and planning to hurt her cause, to hurt the people who needed her. The reminders did little to stop the overwhelming fascination. His handsome looks were too appealing, his voice too deep and soothing to belong to a man who wanted nothing more than to destroy her.
Sarah suddenly wanted him to go away. Quickly. She’d had no business inviting him along, selfishly wanting to spend some time with Josh that didn’t involve him probing her life and thinking she was a common thief.
Why had she suggested the park? Why hadn’t she just sent him on his way?
Because it had been too long since she felt like a woman. And Joshua Miller made her feel completely feminine. The warm glint in his eyes as he stared at her, the way everything about him exuded masculinity. From the dark eyebrows to the broad shoulders to the trim waist to his heavily muscled legs.
He was a romance novel cover model.
And she was falling for him.
Even with all she knew he could do to hurt her, Sarah wanted him anyway. “Damn it,” she let slip before she could censor herself.
He furrowed his brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing,” she replied with a wave of her hand, hoping he would let her gaffe pass. Thankfully, he did.
Following the paved path through the park, Sarah soaked in each ray of sunlight, sniffed every fresh scent. Newly mown grass. The breeze through the beds of flowers. Someone cooking with charcoal. Heaven on earth.
The playground was just over the next small hill. She stopped walking. Josh took several steps up the rise before he must have realized she wasn’t next to him. He turned back to look at her. “Sarah?”
She threw him a smile, hoping to throw him off balance. “Race you.” Not knowing where the burst of energy came from, she enjoyed it nonetheless as she ran past him toward the swing set, giggling over her shoulder.
“Hey! No fair!” Josh shouted after he finally understood what she was doing. If it was really a race, the damn little vixen was cheating. It didn’t take him long to catch her. Her laughter floated around him, soothing away what seemed like years of worry and pain. Sarah made him feel young again. She made him smile. She made him happy. As they stopped next to some empty swings, he grabbed the chains supporting one wooden plank and helped her take a seat.
Good God, how old was he? Because he was acting like a damned kid.
He was Joshua Miller, Pulitzer Prize nominated journalist. And he was pushing the subject of his current investigation on a swing while she squealed in delight. He was supposed to be asking her questions about why she ripped people off, not enjoying her company with carefree abandon.
Needing to put some space between them so he could think, he suddenly stopped pushing her and walked over to a bench. Before he sat down, Josh reached in his pocket, pulled out his little black stone, and rubbed it with his fingertips.
He watched as Sarah still sat on the swing that slowly ground to a halt. Then she leaned the side of her head against one of the chains and just stared at him. Her gaze made him unsure, unsettled. He looked down at the stone he caressed, having no idea what to do about the whole bizarre situation.
He’d forgotten Miranda. God forgive him, he had actually forgotten his wife. What kind of asshole was he for desiring another woman? Especially this woman.
Just about to tell Sarah he needed to leave, Josh glanced up and realized she’d disappeared. Quickly slipping the rock back in his pocket, he frantically looked around, afraid for a moment that she needed him. “Sarah? Sarah! Where did you go?”
Jumping up from the bench, he jogged over to the swing set. His gaze scanned the area until he finally saw her crouching in the grass next to a large oak tree, cradling something in her cupped hands. She slowly rose to her full height, slight as it was.
“What do you have there?” Josh asked as he walked up to stand beside her and peer down at what she held. There was no reply as she concentrated hard on her tiny burden, not even acknowledging him. “What is it, Sarah? What have you got?”
“He must’ve fallen from his nest,” she replied as she slowly opened her palms to reveal a baby robin.
Immature enough to still be covered with pinfeathers, the poor thing shivered with fright. It was clearly too young to survive without parents. A closer inspection revealed that one of the pathetic bird’s legs was bent at an odd angle. He knew it had no chance to survive. “It’s hurt. It’s probably best to let nature—”
“No,” she whispered. “I can’t stand to see an animal suffer. He’s not going to die.” Closing her eyes, she let her hands encase the little bird again. Her body began to tremble.
“Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer him.
Josh watched, wondering what she hoped to accomplish. Slow minutes passed. “Sarah, you can’t—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I can,” Sarah insisted as she opened her eyes and grinned. She slowly opened her palms. The baby robin rested there, both legs now straight.
Blinking against the image, Josh fought to understand. Reaching out to touch the tiny bird, he ran a fingertip along each spindly leg. “I don’t—”
“I couldn’t just let it die. It had a broken leg.”
“I saw. Sarah, I... You didn’t...” But she did. She had actually healed it. The proof was right
there in front of his skeptical face. He didn’t want to believe it.
“I need to put him back in the nest.” She began to look up at the branches of the tall oak.
Josh shook his head. “The parents won’t take care of it if they smell humans—”
“That’s a myth,” she interrupted again. He was starting to get used to that habit of hers. “Listen.”
“I don’t—”
“Just listen.”
He waited patiently but didn’t expect to hear anything. He sighed. She shot him a scolding glance. He tried to listen again.
There it was. Bird song. He followed the melody to another tree that rubbed branches with the oak. Two infuriated robins were watching out for this baby as they shifted from branch to branch, squawking and flapping their wings. Sarah must have realized he heard the parent robins because she favored him with an arrogant smirk Josh suddenly realized he could learn to love.
“They haven’t left him. If I can get him back in his nest, they’ll still care for him.” Sarah slowly circled the big tree, gazing up through the branches and frowning.
Josh let his gaze follow hers up several limbs until he saw the nest. “There,” he said, pointing to the junction of several medium-sized branches.
She nodded. “I see it, but I can’t reach it. Maybe we can find a ladder or something.”
Josh had a better and much more convenient idea. “Come here,” he coaxed as he crooked his finger. She took a few hesitant steps toward him. Crouching in front of her, he wrapped his arms around her knees and stood up. Her shocked gasp made him smile, that and the fact that her thighs were pressed to his chin as he looked up at her. “You can reach now.”
Sarah gently placed the baby robin back in the nest. “You can let me down now, Joshua.”
Gradually releasing his tight hold on her legs, Josh let Sarah’s body slowly slide down his. He was aware of every inch of her. Thighs, stomach, and breasts passed eye level. Josh tried to control his body’s reaction to the feel of her, the smell of her, the perfection of Sarah. He stopped her descent before her feet touched the ground, content to simply stand there holding her against him.
Staring into her eyes, he saw the confusion he knew must mirror his own. Sarah’s hands rested on his shoulders, but she didn’t resist his embrace. Slowly, her arms stretched out to encircle his neck.
Josh gazed at her pretty pink lips, wondering how she would taste. He gave in to the urge, gently settling his mouth on hers. She tasted like heaven, her lips as soft and just as sweet as he’d anticipated. He only savored her for a moment before pulling away. Then he let her slide down the rest of the way until her feet reached the ground.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sarah whispered as she slowly drew her arms away and let them fall to her side.
“No, I probably shouldn’t have,” he replied, wondering if the kiss had affected her the same way it had affected him. He could still smell her delightful flowery scent, taste her sweeter than honey on his lips.
Wondering if he should apologize, Josh was taken entirely by surprise when Sarah suddenly stood on tiptoe, slipped her arms around his neck again, and pressed her lips gently to his. Just a quick peck, but he had no idea what had possessed her. Their eyes locked, her arms still holding him close, his hands settled on her waist.
Suddenly, a peck wasn’t enough. Josh set his lips against hers, but not for an innocent kiss. No, there was nothing chaste about it. Nudging her lips open, his tongue swept into her mouth in blatant possession.
The little mewl from deep in her throat fired his response. She was warm, willing, addictive. His mouth slanted across hers, pleading for her to give and taking all she offered.
With great effort and ignoring the fire she’d created in his body, Josh pulled away. A cross between guilt over enjoying a kiss with a new woman and satisfied male smugness over Sarah’s reaction fought a battle for possession of his mind. He really wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. He wondered why that revelation didn’t scare the hell out of him. But it didn’t. Not even a little.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, slowly pulled her shaking hands back, her face flushing red. “I just wanted to see what... I’m sorry.”
He grinned, hoping she didn’t think he was mocking her, but he just couldn’t help himself. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.” God, he sounded so damned lame. But what was he supposed to say? That he was the moth, she the flame? That he wanted her, couldn’t honestly resist her? Or some other stupid, romantic cliché?
“I really need to go back,” Sarah said as she stepped back, looking as uncomfortable as Josh felt.
“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
Chapter 5
Hannah was waiting on the porch with her hands on her hips, wearing one of her annoyed looks Sarah had grown to know all too well. Lord, she was tired of seeing that chastising scowl.
“Where were you?” Hannah demanded. “There’s someone here to see you. A client. She and her husband have been waiting and waiting.”
Sarah closed her eyes and sighed before she could guard her reaction. Surely Josh would notice her reticence, and she didn’t need him asking any questions. Nor did she want him here if someone needed her, if she was going to heal someone. “I wasn’t supposed to see anyone today.”
“Well, they just showed up,” Hannah said. “I couldn’t turn them away.”
“I know, but...” Josh was still here. Wouldn’t Hannah know Sarah couldn’t do her job? Not with him hanging around.
God Almighty, what had she been thinking, healing that robin right in front of him? That had been a reckless act. The man was a reporter after all. He would obviously think she’d tricked him somehow with a slight of hand. Josh probably saw nothing more miraculous in what she’d done than the smoke and mirrors used by any magician. He’d never believe she honestly had a gift, and she had no idea why that bothered her or why she cared so much about his opinion of her. But the poor baby bird had looked so helpless. Sarah couldn’t have stopped herself even if she had wanted to. She’d never possessed the ability to simply walk away. It was just a baby bird, she reminded herself. Baby birds died all the time. People died all the time. It was the way of the world. She couldn’t heal everyone.
Sarah sighed again, knowing she’d try to do just that if she only had the time and the energy. Penance for the life I took.
“Come on, Sarah,” Hannah scolded as she gestured with her hand like she was encouraging some stubborn child to move along. “They’re waiting.”
Turning back to Josh, Sarah tried to politely dismiss him. “Thank you for the walk. I had a nice time.”
He didn’t seem to take the hint, standing there as if waiting to be invited inside. “Me too.”
“I really need to go inside now.”
A few awkward moments passed. Josh stared at her. She glared right back. Where were his manners? Were all reporters this rude? She’d all but told him to leave, yet he stubbornly remained on her porch. She was amazed he didn’t just shove his way inside.
Knowing what he wanted, how he was probably dying to see her heal someone, Sarah decided that she wasn’t about to perform for him like some sideshow freak. “I need to go, Joshua. You need to go.”
“I’d like to stay.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She flashed him an indignant, open-mouthed scowl. The bluster came right out of her when he smiled warmly in response. She supposed he possessed one of her own annoying traits. Obstinacy. The stubborn journalist in him couldn’t simply walk away any more than the determined healer in her could. He was plainly too curious not to follow through.
“I’m staying, Sarah. I want to see you do for a person what you did for that bird in the park.”
Hannah appeared confused, an expression she sported often. “Bird? What bird?”
“Later, Hannah,” Sarah said before turning back to Josh. “I don’t want you to stay.”
“I know.”
“God, you’re pigheaded.”
He smiled again. “Of course I’m pigheaded. I’m a reporter. It’s part of the job description.” With a chuckle, he added, “And I’m a Miller.”
“Oh, well, that must explain it,” Sarah grumbled. “Joshua, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
His hand reached out to stroke her upper arm. “I want to see this for myself, Sarah. Please. I need to know.”
What choice did she have? Someone was waiting for her help. Josh was as tenacious as a caffeine addict sniffing out the closest Starbucks. Sarah finally gave him a curt nod as she followed Hannah back into the house with Josh close behind. At least he didn’t have a camera, but she knew it would be futile to ask him not to write about what he saw. That was, after all, why he had come.
The couple sat on the couch, looking fidgety. When they saw Sarah, they both jumped to their feet.
Josh all but dismissed the man. Dressed in “casual yuppie,” he was clearly not the one who wanted Sarah’s help. But Josh had to guard his reaction to the sick woman. Chemo had robbed her of her hair because she wore a white scarf wrapped like a turban around her head. Her skin was sallow, her face drawn. She couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds, her frame so delicate she looked like her bones would snap akin to twigs if someone hugged her too hard.
She seemed so much like his Miranda right before she died, Josh had to close his eyes and rein in his tumbling emotions. Sarah was going to steal from this woman, this deathly-ill woman. This “healer” might as well have been picking Miranda’s pocket. Disgust raced through him.
“Hi,” Sarah said as she grabbed a wooden stool and dragged it next to the sofa. “I’m Sarah.” She looked the woman up and down. “What’s your name?”
“Shelly.”
“What happened to you, Shelly?” Sarah asked.
Josh realized that while Sarah made pleasant conversation, she was so focused on gazing at the woman that she didn’t appear to be paying much attention to what Shelly said at all. Sarah’s hazel eyes bored into the sick woman with an intensity Josh realized might be intimidating. But Shelly didn’t seem to mind. She actually reached out and touched Sarah’s arm a couple of times as the women talked.
