Great one, O’Neil. Just what the doctor ordered. A full-blown hard-on. One that would have no release. Sasha wasn’t his. Hadn’t been in ages, and wasn’t about to become so. She carried another man’s baby. It didn’t matter that the man had left her high and dry.
Yeah, and you still lust after her. Still love her.
Yeah, and I can’t do a thing about that.
What happened to trying to woo her back slowly?
I just ran out of patience. And, I suspect, opportunity—if I ever had that. Sasha had made it very plain she wasn’t interested in a rerun of their previous relationship. What about a newer version? A grown-up, take-all-life’s-punches relationship? She wasn’t interested in that either. She might be saying her baby’s father was a bastard but there’d been a ton of hurt in her voice, indicating she might still be in love with the guy.
Ignoring his painfully squeezing heart, Grady turned into her bedroom and nudged the light switch with an elbow. The big bed beckoned. It would be so easy to lie down with Sash and hold her close as she slept. If she woke he’d have to rethink that because he doubted he’d be able to keep his hands off her. Patience had always been his middle name—until he’d returned to Golden Bay and seen this woman currently in his arms and drooping in all directions as though she was boneless.
Yet the moment she woke she’d remember all that fear brought on by her baby’s silence and those muscles would tighten up.
And he still had a boner to contend with. Seemed a dose of cold, hard reality hadn’t quietened that down. Best put her to bed. Don’t go there, he warned his southern brain. Behave.
Sash stirred as he placed her on the bed. When he tucked the sheet and quilt up to her chin she blinked her eyes open. ‘Grady?’ she croaked.
‘Shh. Go back to sleep, Sash.’
Her eyes opened wider. ‘Why are you putting me to bed?’
‘Because it’s late and you were sound asleep in my car.’ He stepped back from that tempting picture of sweetness. Run, man, while you still can. Because whatever you want, Sash will hate you tomorrow if you take advantage of her right now.
But Sash wasn’t thinking straight. Her hand slid out from under the covers and grabbed at his shirt. ‘Grady.’ She tugged him. When he didn’t budge she pushed up the bed and leaned closer. ‘Thank you for today. For being there. For being you. I needed all of that.’
Another tug, and this time he didn’t resist. Couldn’t resist. Those lips were smiling, those eyes drawing him in, that honeysuckle tickling his sensory receptors. He bent down, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up close so that he could feel against him the length of the body he craved in the deep of the night.
Sash twisted her head so that her lips locked on his. Finally, finally he tasted her. When her tongue slipped into his mouth he knew he’d found his Sash. And yet this was not his Sash. A different woman, confident in a less brash way. Gentled by her baby? By circumstances? Then her hands gripped his biceps and her swollen breasts pushed into his chest and he forgot to think. Just savoured the moment, the bone-melting kiss. He was home.
Lifting his hands to her head, his fingers combed into her silky hair. So soft. In response she pressed her hips forward. Rubbed up against his obvious need for her.
And reminded him with her baby bump why he shouldn’t be doing this. Dropping his hands to her shoulders, he separated their bodies, put air between them. Let go his hold. Stepped back further. ‘Sash.’ Swallow. ‘Sasha, I’m sorry.’
Her butt abruptly landed on the edge of the bed, as though her legs couldn’t hold her up without any assistance from him. The ring-covered fingers of her left hand pressed into her lips. Surprise glittered out of her eyes. ‘You’re sorry?’ she asked around those fingers. ‘Then so am I.’ Taking her hand away, she stared up at him. ‘Grady, I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was obvious you were moving away from me and in my sleep-hazed state I had to follow.’
Hit me in the gut, why don’t you? ‘I understand. It’s okay.’ Lying was all right sometimes, wasn’t it? For sure, he wasn’t about to lay his heart in those trembling hands twisting in her lap. She wasn’t ready for that. She might never want him again, despite that kiss. He’d still have to try, but not this way. Slowly, slowly. In other words, be patient.
‘I need to get into bed now. Properly.’
‘Of course. Do you want a hot drink once you’re sorted?’
‘Is hot chocolate on the menu?’ Her smile was shy and sliced right in deep, twisting through his heart.
‘Coming right up,’ he gasped, and turned abruptly for the door and the chill of the other rooms. Her bedroom had become hotter than an inferno. To the point he half expected to melt into a puddle of need at her feet.
In the pokey kitchen he banged cupboard doors as he looked for a mug, some chocolate and sugar, clanged the pot onto the element, slammed the fridge door shut after finding the milk.
He’d never be able to walk away from her again. At least, not until he’d tried everything possible to win her back. That kiss, short though it had been, had proved how much he still loved her.
As if he hadn’t known.
Turning the gas on to low, he stood watching the milk heat ever so slowly, thinking about Sasha and what she’d done in the intervening years when they’d both been carving out careers and turning into grounded adults. Funny how they’d both always wanted medical careers. He’d once tried to talk Sash into studying to become a doctor. She’d told him he was crazy to even think about it.
It wasn’t as though she didn’t have the smarts. She had as much, if not more, intelligence as any doctor he knew. Her school grades had been embarrassingly high. She’d been school dux, topped science and biology, and yet she’d refused to consider med school.
‘Too big a tie,’ she’d say with a grin. ‘At least six years with no free time for flying, skiing or just doing.’
‘Just doing’ had been her favourite expression and it encompassed all things physical or fun or non-studious.
He’d argued back, ‘Six years isn’t all that long. And we’d be studying together.’ Talk about selfish, but he hadn’t been able to imagine not being all but glued to her side. If only he’d known then what the future held just around the corner he’d have kept his big gob shut.
‘Two points you’re missing.’ She’d wagged her forefinger at him. ‘It takes a lot of money to go to med school and I’m not asking Dad to fork out for me. Then there’s the fact I hate being tied down too long. Can you imagine me studying twenty-four seven for years on end? I don’t think so. I want to be a nurse, do the hands-on caring stuff, help people when they’re feeling at their most vulnerable. I know there’s a lot of study involved but not as much as it takes to become a doctor.’
He hadn’t been able to argue with that and in the end he’d been the one to walk away from all their plans anyway.
The milk bubbled to the top of the pot and he deftly poured it into the large mug and stirred rapidly, swirling the dissolving chocolate through the liquid. Thinking about Sash, Sash, Sash.
Back in her bedroom the bedside light had replaced the main light, giving off a soft glow. Sash lay tucked up under her quilt, her eyes closed and her golden hair spread over the pillow. His heart felt like that chocolate in the hot milk. All gooey and swirling.
‘Sash?’ he called softly, in case she’d already fallen asleep.
Her eyes opened slowly. ‘Hey, Grady. That smells yummy. You’re spoiling me.’
Placing the mug on the bedside table, he headed for the door, where he turned to look at her. ‘Get a good night’s sleep, Sasha. I’ll be out in the lounge if you need anything.’ He wasn’t leaving her in the house alone. Not after today. She’d had a huge fright and if she woke during the night he wanted to be there to reassure her that everything was fine with her baby.
Shrugging, he continued down the short hall. Who did he think he was fooling? He was staying because he had an excuse to, because he didn’t want to leave h
er. Not until he absolutely had to—which no doubt would be tomorrow when she was back to being her normal self and kicked him out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SASHA DRAGGED HER eyes open and peered through the gloom of her bedroom to the sunlight trying to filter in around the edges of her blinds. ‘At least it’s going to be a nice day, by the look of that.’
Her hands went to her stomach. ‘Hey, Flipper, how’re you doing in there this morning? All over yesterday’s quiet spell?’
She’d fought sleep last night—and lost—afraid that she’d not notice if the baby stopped moving again. Twice she’d woken during the night when she’d tried to roll over onto her stomach and immediately she’d felt a kick from inside. The relief had been enormous, but nothing like that moment when the hospital technician had shown her the printout with her baby’s heartbeat looking absolutely normal.
Didn’t mean she’d stop worrying for the rest of her pregnancy, though.