He inhaled the richness that was her, a floral scent yet something wispy and sweet that was only Sara. Even her name calmed him. He nuzzled his nose against her skin before his lips touched it. Her hand stilled in his hair for a second then continued to caress.
She felt so good, so right in his arms. Her curves molded to his perfectly.
Grant released his hold on her marginally but she made no attempt to leave. He placed a kiss behind her ear. “Sweet, sweet Sara,” he whispered.
Her heart thudded sharp and strong against his chest. She wasn’t as unaffected by him as she led him to believe.
His lips brushed along her neck and then across her jaw. She turned toward him slightly and his mouth claimed hers. Heat fired in his gut and his manhood came to complete attention. His mouth moved across her lips, tasting and testing until her fingers found the back of his neck and nudged him closer. Sara returned his kiss with all the fervor he’d ever dreamt of. She shifted, turning in his lap and giving him better access.
Pleasure-filled moments went by before he pulled back. “I want you. Right now. Right here.”
Sara blinked as if she’d forgotten where she was. Slowly she began to untangle herself from him. Grant tightened his grip. She looked him straight in the eye. “Grant, I won’t be the instrument you use to purge all the memories this room has for you. When I make love with a man I expect him to be sharing it with me, not erasing ugly thoughts.”
His arms slackened their hold. For once in his life he was truly ashamed. He let his arms rest on the chair arms, giving her an opening. “It’s not that way, you know.”
Sara rubbed across his shaft as she stood. He stifled a groan.
“You think about it. Despite how enjoyable being with you might be, doing so in your father’s chair, on his desk or on the floor wouldn’t be about you and me. It’d be about you and him.” She walked halfway to the door and turned back. “I’m sorry about your patient. I know you did your best. You’re a good man and a great surgeon, Grant. You’re the only one who doesn’t believe that.”
He watched Sara go with pain in his heart and his groin. No one liked it when someone saw through them.
CHAPTER SIX
SARA WALKED AWAY from Grant with wobbly knees. She’d been kissed before. Heavens, it had been years since she’d been a virgin, but Grant’s kisses had been the hottest, most all-consuming and addictive ones she’d ever experienced. She never wanted him to know what amount of self-control it had taken her to walk away.
She would have gladly swiped everything off his father’s desk, sat on it and opened wide in invitation, but she wouldn’t let Grant regret their being together by doing so. He was so honorable his guilt would eat him up because he had taken her that way.
With effort she made it to her room, showered and was in bed when sounds of Grant coming down the hallway reached her ears. He didn’t stay long before he left again.
Where was he going?
The way he felt tonight and with what had just happened between them she’d best not search him out. She stayed awake late into the night, listening for his return and reliving those moments in the den.
Lily’s cry jarred her awake the next morning. It wasn’t until she was carrying her down for breakfast and they passed the living room that Sara learned where Grant had spent the night. Folded neatly on the end of one of the sofas was a blanket with a pillow on top.
Why hadn’t he slept in his bed? A heady feeling filled her. Was it because he would have been too close to her? That was something interesting to contemplate.
On the kitchen counter she found a note: “I’m gone.”
She smiled. Looking at Lily happily going back and forth in the swing, she could easily get used to being in Grant and Lily’s world.
He was later than usual again that night but that was all right with Sara because she had time to get Lily down for the night. She was in the kitchen when he came in. He looked tired but his mouth lifted into a slight smile when he saw her. Her insides warmed each time she saw him. Would he say something about what had happened last night?
“Hi.”
“Hey. You look like you could be hungry. Would you like me to fix you something to eat?” she offered.
“Come to think of it, I did miss lunch. But I’ll get a bowl of ice cream or something. You’re not the maid.”
The man did like his ice cream. She’d started adding a carton to the grocery list each week. “I don’t mind. Really. How about a nice omelet and toast?”