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“That’s more to the point.”

He looked at her with agitation and his hands came up to rest on his lips in a defiant stance. He spoke in low, measured tones that barely contained his anger. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d react to it exactly the way you’re reacting now. You’d see what Sharon did as just one more reason why we shouldn’t be together.”

“Yes. That’s right.” Anger dissipating under the weight of the truth, she sank down onto the sofa. “Oh, Chad, don’t you see? I’d never resort to suicide, but I’d be miserable every time you were called out to fight a fire. I know I would be. I was every time Greg had to go undercover. I made him miserable, too, and I don’t want to do that to you.”

He crouched in front of her and caught her chin so she’d have to look at him. “I’m not saying you wouldn’t worry. But you’re not like Sharon. Leigh, she was a butterfly—skittish, nervous, high-strung, afraid of her own shadow. I think one reason I married her was to protect her. She evoked that kind of emotion in everyone, especially in her parents. I felt guilty for taking her out on dates before we were married because they hated to see her leave the house even for a few hours.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very healthy atmosphere.”

“No, it wasn’t, and I should have seen that sooner. I pitied her more than I loved her. That’s the God’s truth, Leigh.”

“I believe you, Chad. I know how you feel about women. You want to protect all of us.”

“That’s not how I feel about you.” She knew by the expression on his face how he felt about her. His eyes that lingered on her mouth, his hands that encircled her waist, told her that it wasn’t pity or paternal protectiveness she generated in him.

“I want to give you and Sarah a home. I want to give your lives permanence. But I’m not unselfish. I need you, Leigh. I need a partner. I want to share my life with you. Conversation, problems, laughter, sex. Everything. I don’t want a china doll who needs coddling. I want a woman. You.”

He had been studying the delicate veins on the back of her hand. When he looked up, he was amazed to discover tears streaming down her cheeks. “Leigh, what—”

“Don’t you see, Chad? You’re transferring all the qualities Sharon didn’t have onto me. But I don’t have them either.”

“You do!”

“You think I’m courageous. Greg could tell you otherwise. I drove him to distraction with my complaining every time he left. I made him as unhappy as I was. I wouldn’t put you through that. I wouldn’t put myself through it, not to mention Sarah.”

“It won’t be like that, Leigh. I’ve seen you handle the most adverse of circumstances with more bravery than most women would ever show in a lifetime. My God! You had a baby in the middle of nowhere without anesthesia, without antiseptics, without anyone to help you but a man petrified that he was going to hurt you or the baby. And you smiled through it all.”

“What choice did I have?” she said on a light laugh.

“Many,” he said seriously. “Sharon had a choice not to take that bottle of sleeping pills, to face whatever had happened to me with fortitude. She chose not to.”

Leigh felt the arsenal of defense she had built up crumbling slowly under the onslaught of his arguments. Sharon’s suicide must have caused Chad much pain and guilt, especially since he had wanted to protect her from the rest of the world. Leigh felt a surge of compassion and tenderness for him as she saw his pain-racked face. Leigh knew that, prudent though it might be, she couldn’t just abruptly stop seeing Chad now. She knew the risks involved, knew the heartache she would suffer the first time he had to leave her to fight an oil-well fire, but that nightmare seemed remote now at this intimate moment. She would face it when she had to. Not now.

She touched his hair. “Chad, I’m sorry about Sharon.”

“Thank you, Leigh. I know I should have told you earlier, but I couldn’t risk losing you.” He laid his head in her lap as his arms went around her waist. Nuzzling her seductively, he said, “Leigh, I need you. Don’t deny me. Please.”

What he was doing, even through her clothing, set her heart racing. She could feel herself melting against his mouth like warm butter. “Chad, we haven’t known each other long. We could count on one hand the times we’ve been together.”

“I’ve felt like this since I left you in the hospital. I wanted to install you and Sarah in my life then.”

“Why didn’t you stay? Or come back?”

“The timing was off and I knew it. I thought you might still be grieving over Greg. It had been less than a year since he was killed. You had just had his baby, the last link with him. I would have felt like an intruder. I had to give you time to recover physically and mentally from what you’d been through. And it seemed like every oil well in the world started having problems. I was hopping all over the globe. Besides, I thought you might be embarrassed to see me again. Often when tragedy or near-tragedy brings people together, they find it hard to face each other in normal circumstances.”

She combed her fingers through his hair as his head lay against her midriff. “I guess I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. You were so… so sensitive to me and what I needed at the time.” For a moment she paused, then admitted, “I cried after you left me that night in the hospital.”

He raised his head and searched her storm-blue eyes. Then he lifted himself onto the sofa, lay back, and brought her with him to recline upon his chest. He smoothed back the rich-brown hair that draped either side of her face.

“I hung around until your parents arrived. I couldn’t just walk out and leave you alone without anyone looking after your interests. I wanted to introduce myself to them, but I looked so raunchy, I was afraid they’d be terrified to know such a man had delivered your baby.”

She laughed as she traced the outline of his lips with her fingertip. “That’s probably one of the wisest decisions you’ve ever made.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s exactly how they would have felt if they’d seen you that day. They’re not as warm and affectionate, as tolerant and accepting, as your parents.”

He fingered the buttons of her blouse. “What did you think of me that day?”


Tags: Sandra Brown Romance