Chapter One
Six Years Ago – Africa
Cameron kept her eyes closed as she lay awake, feigning sleep. Ian’s voice murmured too low for her to make out what he said, but even without understanding the words, she could feel the love seeping from her fiancé’s voice as he spoke to their daughter. The unborn child moved in response.
Ian laughed, his lips curling against Cameron’s bare stomach. “You’re going to wake your mama.”
His breath sent shivers over her stretched abdomen, then lower. Groaning, she lifted her head. “Too late.”
The smile melted from his face. Instantly, she regretted saying anything. These early morning “talks” he shared with their daughter were some of the few moments in their days when she saw glimpses of the Ian she’d fallen in love with years ago. Lately, worry over the villagers they tried to save during their relief efforts and whether Cameron was in danger consumed him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just—”
“It’s not your fault.” The blow-up mattress wobbled as she pushed to a sitting position. “These things weren’t made for a woman of my size.”
Rolling his whiskey brown eyes, he leaned over her, planting a kiss on her lips. His large hand slid to her hip, somehow making her feel as if a waistline still existed. “Maybe not for a woman in your condition,” he conceded. “There’s nothing wrong with your size.”
Her obstetrician’s mind knew he spoke the truth. But her woman’s mind had trouble believing him. Before her pregnancy, she’d had a small build, feminine but certainly not voluptuous. Now her body curved in places that had only ever been straight lines. Her butt and breasts seemed to take on a life of their own. Not that Ian minded in the least. His hand crept around her back and down, squeezing her newly acquired ass.
“Ian.” Her protest was only half-hearted. Along with her new curves, she’d also gained an extra dose of hormones. True, sometimes she felt too tired or too hot or too fat, but when Ian touched her, none of that mattered. Her body had decided it needed Ian Gauthier all the time. Luckily for her, he never backed down from a challenge.
Even now, his lips trailed along her throat, making their way to the spot where her shoulder and neck met—the spot that never failed to send chills racing over her skin.
“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” He pressed the words into her skin, so they sank in and became a part of her. “But now…” Pulling back, his dark eyes roamed her body before settling on her face.
Never had she expected a simple look to affect her so much. But when Ian looked at her, she felt seen for the first time in her life. As if his stare penetrated beneath her flesh and bone to her very soul—the part she’d never learned to share with anyone. Except Ian. With him, everything came easily.
When he smiled, a dimple appeared in his left cheek, barely visible beneath the multiple days’ beard growth. “You somehow get more beautiful every day.”
Uncomfortable with praise, even her fiancé’s, she quipped, “Has anyone ever told you you’re full of shit?”
His smile bloomed into a full-blown grin, causing laugh lines to appear at the corners of his eyes. “Only every person I’ve ever met.”
As she giggled at his irreverent response, the smile slipped away. “But as my best friend, you, more than anyone, should know I don’t lie to the people I love.”
Her giggle died at his sincerity. Yes, she did know he was honest… almost to a fault.
“I thought Wes was your best friend.” Except for Ian’s stint in the Army, the two had been inseparable since high school. Wes, the leader of their group of doctors, had been the one to convince Ian to join him on his missionary trips to foreign countries. Thank God. Without this group, she’d likely never have met the man who held her heart.
Lazily, Ian lifted a shoulder, his hand sliding from her back to her hip. “He’s okay, but he never lets me see his boobs.” His hand wandered over her round stomach to the underside of her sensitive breasts. “And he’s a terrible kisser.”
Before her laugh could escape, he leaned forward, taking her lips with his and stealing the sound.
“That’s all it takes, huh?” She managed between presses of his mouth to hers.
His hand wandered lower now, parting her thighs. “Well, there are certain parts of you I enjoy that Wes just doesn’t possess.”
Letting her head fall back, she concentrated on his fingers inching their way up her thigh to the leg of the cotton pajama shorts she wore without panties. “Those parts enjoy you too,” she mumbled.
Against her breast, Ian’s mouth curved in an answering smile. Pulling away, he leaned over her. She cracked open one eye to stare into the whiskey-colored gaze. Her head swam from the intoxicating depth of sincerity staring back at her.
“I love you Cameron Crawford.”
Tears warmed her eyes. She’d never expected to find a love like this. Someone to be both friend and lover. Someone to share everything: work, play, family, friends. Until Ian, she’d reserved the term soulmate for fairytales and romance novels. Now it was her reality.
“I love you too Ian Gauthier.” Pushing him to his back, she crawled over him, straddling his lap and the hard ridge of his erection.
Groaning, he tilted his hips to press tighter against where she needed him most.
“We’re wearing too many clothes,” she protested as she rocked against him, searching for more friction.
He smirked. “Oh baby, I’ve got this.” Gripping the hem of her tank top, he whipped the shirt over her head, leaving her heavy breasts exposed and aching.
“Ian.” As his mouth descended on her breast, she moaned and gripped the silky dark strands of his hair.
With his free hand, he slipped the band of her shorts down. She lifted enough to free herself of the bottoms, then went to work freeing Ian from his own pajamas. This time when she sat on his lap, nothing separated the hard, straining length of him from the soft, warm center of her. Releasing a sigh of pleasure from deep in her chest, she sank onto him, taking him to the hilt. For a moment neither of them moved, content to stay still, connected in the most primal way. Cameron’s chest tightened and her eyes again filled with tears. Love, all-consuming and almost terrifying, filled her until she had to move or risk combusting from the force. As she began to rock, Ian clutched her hips, stilling her momentarily.
“You. This…” His head dipped to her swollen belly between them. “I could never imagine anything more perfect.” His eyes shimmered behind a layer of moisture. Then he lifted his hips, driving into her and proving even perfection could be improved upon.
* * *
Cameron trudged through the brush, picking her way carefully over limbs and undergrowth as she made her way to camp. Only moments before, she’d seen Ian slipping between the trees, but now she found no sign of him. Pausing, she placed one hand against the tree next to her and the other on the swell of her stomach. Underneath, her daughter stirred. A smile stretched her lips as she soothed her child, eager for the day she could hold her in her arms and soothe her there. With a deep breath, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. Maybe Ian was right. The time had come for her to go back home and prepare for her own birth instead of traipsing through jungles delivering other people’s babies. Sighing, she pushed away from the tree. With her head down, she walked, watching the ground for roots, vines, and . . . ambushes. The tribes surrounding the village fought incessantly. Cameron and her team of doctors had been warned to watch for traps. So far, they’d found none, but she couldn’t afford to take any chances—not when she carried a tiny, innocent life inside her.
As she approached a clearing, voices floated to her over the sounds of chirping birds and a trickling stream. Ian. Slowing, she picked her way closer, trying to understand his words. When she spotted him, her breath stopped, and her heart slammed into her chest. She’d found her fiancé, and he wasn’t alone. A woman pressed against him, her arms wound around his neck, her long dark hair falling loosely behind her. Recognition slammed into Cameron fast and painfully. Her gaze darted to the man’s face. Surely, she’d only thought she heard Ian’s voice. Someone else, maybe Wes, must be kissing Mallory. But no. The man with his full lips pressed against the group’s nurse was the same man who’d gotten on one knee, slipped a diamond on Cameron’s finger, and asked her to marry him not even a year ago. The same man who’d made love to her only hours before. She spun away. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she tried to ease the nausea churning in her gut.
“Mallory.” Cameron couldn’t untangle the emotions filling Ian’s deep voice. Truthfully, she was too afraid to try.
She closed her eyes and lowered her head. Resting her hands on her knees, she tried to drag in a full breath. Behind her, Mallory murmured a reply.
Then Ian’s voice responded loudly, too loudly for the quiet of the jungle, “I don’t want a child.”
Cameron’s heart shattered. She’d known Ian hadn’t been ready to start a family yet. When she’d first told him they were expecting, he hadn’t even tried to hide his worry. Their plan had always been to spend more time traveling and exploring each other before having children. Since she’d felt the same way, she’d understood his original worries, but she’d thought over the past seven months he’d not only accepted but begun looking forward to meeting their daughter and becoming parents together. Parenting would allow them to embark on an adventure unlike any either of them had ever experienced. And they’d be conquering it together. He’d convinced her he loved her and the tiny life they’d created. She’d never imagined, never suspected…
Shaking her head, she forced herself to move. Behind her, she could still hear Ian and Mallory, but she didn’t know what they said. She didn’t care. Already, she’d seen and heard enough. Ian didn’t want a child. And so, whether or not he wanted Cameron, he wouldn’t have her, because she wanted their child and already loved her fiercely.
She stumbled through the jungle, no longer watching for the things that moments ago seemed like her worst potential threats. As she approached the clearing that marked the worn path used to go between the two villages, she didn’t look up. If she had, perhaps she would’ve spotted the child soldier across from her, his dark eyes void of emotion, the conscience already beaten from him. By the time she noticed him, he’d already raised his gun. His dusty, scabbed finger tensed on the trigger. The bang of the gun splintered the roar already rushing in Cameron’s mind. Instinctively, she lifted her hands to the child resting under her heart. Stumbling back, her foot snagged on a small wire. Hell erupted around her. As she fell, fire and pain licked at her skin, then everything went black.
* * *