"But--."
The pressure of his lips on hers stopped her. Again, she was lost in a whirl of new sensations. Her blood rushed to every nerve ending, and an ache began to form between her thighs.
She felt his hands untie the top of her chemise, and as he lowered the fabric to expose her, his fingers claimed her other breast.
He drew his head back to look at her. His hand rested on the soft swell of her breast, and she saw the question in his eyes.
"What's this?" he asked, his finger skimming across the fabric covering her breast.
Oh, God. He'd felt her scars through the chemise. Her face flamed with embarrassment and shame.
How could she have done this? How could she have forgotten?
Wresting herself out of Sam's arms, she snatched at her blouse and folded it over her chest. How could she have been so stupid?
"What's wrong?" Sam tried to bring her back into his arms, but Emma slid back until she was out of reach.
"Nothing." Emma quickly buttoned her blouse and smoothed her skirt. "I have to check on the children."
"They're sound asleep. Now come here. We aren't finished."
"Yes," Emma said sternly. "Yes, we are."
"What happened? What did I say to upset you? Was it because I asked about what I felt? It felt like a scar."
Oh, if only the ground would open up and swallow her now.
"Is that what it is? A scar?"
Emma nodded. How had she let this happen? How could she have lost control of her common sense and allowed him to touch her? His kisses had felt so good, so natural, and his touch ... well, she'd never felt a man's touch, had never realized just how exciting it was.
But if she didn't stop now, he'd want to touch her again. And more. He might even see the hideous puckered skin on her shoulder and her breast. And he'd look at her in the same way the doctors had. And the same way Barclay had looked at her when he'd caught a glimp
se of her shoulder after the accident. His eyes had widened in horror, and he'd stood, speechless as she struggled to cover herself. He hadn't been able to hide his shock - or his disgust. She was still in hospital when she'd received his note ending their engagement.
She couldn't risk the same reaction from Sam.
Sam reached for her, drawing her back into the circle of his arms. "I thought so. Someday you can tell me how it happened, but right now, I'd rather your lips were doing something else."
Emma pushed away. "No."
Confusion appeared in Sam's eyes. "Why not?"
"I ... just can't ..."
Self-consciously, Emma folded her arms across her breasts.
"It's only a little scar, Emma. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
"It's not a little scar. You have no idea--"
Sam got up and moved a few inches away. "No, I don't. So why don't you tell me? What is it about a scar that's got you in such a state that you can't get away from me fast enough?"
"Nothing," she said sternly, but the quiver in her voice gave her away.
"Don't lie to me, Emma."
"I'm not lying. You say my scars are nothing only because you want ... " Emma paused, trying to find the right words.