“Sara.”
His tone was soft and yet strong and unhesitating. It carried a world of strength, the strength she’d run so far to come to. The strength she now feared. He could protect and destroy everything that she had. He was the devil and her savior, and he held her destiny in his strong, sun-bronzed hands. It was terrifying, it was...
It was as if he knew what she thought. And she wasn’t sure how it happened, how she ended up in his arms. All she knew was that she didn’t want to be there and couldn’t move away.
As she looked into the passion sparkling in his eyes, she was drawn like she’d been so long ago. She ran a finger along his jawbone, wanting him, needing him as she always had. This time when he bent to kiss her, there was something different. Maybe it was the life they’d lived in the interim, or the boy they’d created. But the kiss was more intense, more passionate than anything she’d remembered before.
She tentatively reached up, her fingers threading through the curls that framed his face. It was an odd combination, that sun-bronzed, masculine face and the curls that seemed so soft in comparison.
Everett.
She pulled away at just the thought of her son. This was all too much, too inappropriate. It didn’t matter that the boy was in another room or that he couldn’t hear them or that he was asleep. None of it mattered.
She pushed him back and turned away from him, her arms folded beneath her breasts, her breath coming fast and her heart pounding.
“Sara,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.” His hand was on her shoulder as if that might make her turn around and face what she couldn’t admit even to herself. It wasn’t just about Everett anymore. She loved Talib and yet a relationship between them would never happen. She knew that. He’d thrown her to the curb once, she wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
His hand was gentle but firm on her shoulder and she turned with the slight pressure. She saw the regret in his eyes and it was her undoing.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”
Something inside her died at those words. Somehow, despite everything or maybe because of everything, she had hoped. That had been ridiculous. That hope had been a child’s dream not that of a grown woman, especially that of a woman fighting to save her child. It was no longer about her. It hadn’t been for a long time. Yet, for a moment back in Talib’s arms, she had hoped.
“No worries,” she said briskly as if the issue at hand was nothing more major than a broken dish.
She walked away from him and stopped at the window, where she could feel the solitude of the compound as it lay edged in darkness.
She’d only been here a short time, yet she hadn’t gotten used to the silence.
“Sara,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
She turned slowly, reluctantly, as if facing him would reveal what she really felt, the feelings that she didn’t even want to admit to herself.
“You’re not making this easy,” he said.
“What...” She wasn’t sure where he was going with this. He’d been so clear three years ago. It was only now that she’d muddied the waters coming here, bringing Everett, that he seemed to have more on his mind.
“You do things to me. You always have.”
She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to dredge up feelings she’d never fully buried. “Don’t say it.”
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do. You don’t want me. You want...”
“Sex?” He shook his head. “Is that what you think? It’s not...”
She came over to him, drawn as she always was, as much as she tried to resist. She traced his cheek with her forefinger. “It’s what I want.” The words were soft and a surprise to both of them but especially her.
“Sara.”
The blouse slipped off easily. He watched her. And knowing that, even without looking up, meeting his eyes, he made her hot, made her want it more. The shoulder strap of her camisole slipped down as her thumb casually looped under it. She shut down the evil little voice in the back of her mind that told her to remember what had happened, despite protection, the last time. And with everything and all she’d been through, she wanted this—one last time.
“Sara.” There was a thickness to his voice, a gravelly edge that wasn’t normally there.
She moved closer.
“For old times’ sake,” she said and wondered where those words came from, whose voice that was. But heat ran through her and she only wanted him and she wanted him now.
He stood there as if she was no more interesting than any of the other pieces of furniture in this expansive room. She took another step and her breasts lightly touched his chest. The other strap dropped and the camisole slipped, revealing a lacy pink bra.
“Sara,” he said again, as if her name was the only English word he knew, and he sounded slightly choked.
“Kiss me,” she said softly as she reached up, taking his face in her hands, bringing him down to her as their lips met, soft, tentative. Everything inside her, the logic she refused to listen to, was screaming at her that this was insanity.
This time she didn’t wait, she pulled him, unresisting, to her. She deepened the kiss, tasting him, feeling him hard against her before his arms tightened around her. This was what she wanted, what she knew they both wanted.
This was wrong, not the way it should be.
“No,” she murmured, her hands moving to his shoulders, pushing him back.
He looked at her with troubled eyes.
She wanted him and yet she didn’t. She wanted him for a short time and was terrified that her heart would make that a long time. She couldn’t stand the heartache of losing him again. And she was fooling no one, herself least of all. She loved him and there was no going back.
She kissed him, hot and openmouthed, her body tight against his.
“I want you.”
“You’re sure?”
She didn’t say anything, instead her hands slipped under his shirt and felt the silken skin and the sleek lines. His body was as hard and toned as she remembered. “I couldn’t be more sure,” she whispered.
It was hours later. She’d fallen asleep in his arms and now moonlight streamed across the bed and awakened her. She looked over to see him watching her.
“Sara.” His voice was seductive in the waning hours of the night.
He leaned over and kissed her hard and deep. His hand was hot against her nipple. And passion eclipsed them again as his tongue worshiped her body and she begged him to enter her within minutes and end the sweet torture. They slept spooned together for what was left of the night and it was only the sunlight streaming across the room that awakened them.