For a few precious seconds she let herself soak up the sight of him, lean and dark with an angular strength that would age well. Relief swelled again. She would have the joy of seeing him at fifty, even seventy. He was alive, and no matter what happened between them as a couple, they were linked by Lucia.
Somehow she knew he would be just as appealing with even more gray in his hair. His innate honor and character would stay with him, stamped on his face that was currently so serious and intent on making their time together special. How could she not be totally...
Entranced.
Clasping his hand, she sank to her knees in front of him. She kissed his bandaged arm carefully. "I'm sorry."
He buried his face in her neck. "Losing you hurt worse."
She cupped his face and kissed him hard, tongues and emotions rasping hot and raw before she eased back to pant against his mouth. "How did we make such a mess of things?"
His hands skimmed down her shoulders to cover her breasts, his mouth against the base of her neck. "Is that really what you want to talk about?"
"I'm not sure I want to talk at all unless it's to tell you how excellent..."
He brushed his thumbs in light circles.
Her breath hitched, "...how excellent...that feels. Don't stop."
"As long as we can last."
He lowered her to the floor, side by side, the blanket and rug more cushioning than their jungle bed the past couple of nights.
Plus the floor didn't squeak.
The dim glow from the bedside crystal lamp provided more romantic lighting than any candles—quite possibly because she'd learned the importance of the emotions, the moment. The person.
She let herself savor the feel of his hands under her clothes, against her skin. The never-to-be-underestimated pleasure of simply kissing.
Except kissing wouldn't be enough tonight. "You should probably find one of those condoms before we take this any further and forget."
Lucas smiled against her mouth, kissing her quickly, then slower, before backing away. "Smart lady."
She flopped onto her back and allowed herself the indulgence of watching him. Unhooking his survival vest from the rocking chair, he tugged a small packet from one of the many pockets. A condom. Of course they needed birth control with so much unsettled between them. But a small corner of her heart couldn't stop thinking of the miracle of having his baby inside her and what it might be like to savor that miracle together.
He returned to her side, frowning as he looked down at her. "Sara? Second thoughts?"
She shook her head. "Not second. Just thoughts."
He must have seen the memories in her eyes or felt them in the air, because he knelt beside her and splayed his hand over her stomach. "I'm sorry I wasn't there with you when you carried Lucia, and I will regret until the day I die, missing those first years with her.">"You're a good guesser." Damn it was hard to talk with Sara's fingers searing through his skin and the past burning through his brain.
"Were you defending her honor?"
"Hardly." He would have, though, and that bit his pride worst of all. He'd been an idiot. "She was the one holding the knife."
"Where is she so I can scratch her eyes out?"
Well damn. Sara hadn't even assumed for a second that he deserved to be cut. She trusted him that completely. He was humbled.
And shamed.
She deserved the same level of trust from him, and he'd failed her. He owed her more than an apology, but all she'd asked for were a few words.
He turned to kiss her palm. "Sorry, but you can't scratch her eyes out. Dawn overdosed at nineteen."
After a beating from her pimp of eighteen months. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to label Dawn a hooker out loud, even after what she'd done to him or however much Sara wanted confidences.
She gasped. "How awful."