Heather quietly opened the door to the guest room her nieces shared. Both girls were sound asleep. The screened windows had been left open, the ceiling fan hummed softly overhead. Heather watched them lovingly before tiptoeing through the bathroom which connected the two bedrooms.
Cynthia was lying facing the wall, her arm flung over her face. She was careful not to move. She was too upset to talk to Heather, especially after seeing her father and Heather kissing. Cynthia told herself that if her father just had to have a woman friend, Heather wouldn’t be so bad. But Heather would be taking her mother’s place, wouldn’t she? Cynthia could never agree to that. She loved her mother.
But Cynthia also loved Heather. Was it wrong of her to want Heather to be her new mom someday? Because that was what she wished sometimes. It was something she hadn’t even told Dr. Ann.
Heather bent and pulled the sheet over her bare legs before she tiptoed out and closed the door softly behind her, unaware of the tears that soaked the girl’s pillow as she cried herself to sleep. Quinn had opened and made the sofa bed with fresh linen. A summer blanket was folded at the foot. The screened patio door had been left open, and huge ceiling fans circulated the night air.
Heather kicked off her sandals before shedding her clothes down to her blue lace-edged teddy. She sighed, curling up in the center of the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. It had been an exhausting day. Like a fool, she’d tried to outrun her feelings for Quinn. All for nothing.
Seeing Quinn again had proven that neither time nor distance nor even the possibility that he might still be in love with Peggy had changed what she felt. She was hopelessly in love with the man.
Hot and sticky, she impatiently brushed a braid away from her damp forehead. God help her, she was jealous. She wanted what had once belonged to his wife. She wanted the man and the girl. She wanted to watch Cynthia develop into a well-adjusted, happy young woman. She longed to be the woman Quinn reached for during the night—the woman sharing his life and his dreams for the future. She especially wanted to carry his sweet brown babies. She hadn’t planned for this love, but she couldn’t change it.
And tonight, no matter how difficult it might be for her to admit, she knew that despite it all she wanted to be with Quinn. Heather wanted to sleep in his arms.
Telling herself she would only take a shower and leave him undisturbed if he was asleep, Heather’s feet sank into the thickly carpeted staircase. It wasn’t a question of whether or not Quinn would welcome her appearance in his room. Her problem was much more basic. She wanted his love. It probably would be better for them both if he were sleeping.
The drapes were pulled back and the windows open, taking advantage of the cool breeze off the bay. A full moon illuminated the room. Quinn was stretched out on his stomach. His head rested on upraised hands, and his face was turned away from the stairwell that opened into the room. The top sheet was at the foot of the large brass bed He was nude. The bare expanse of his six-two masculine beauty caused her to catch her breath and pivot sharply. She was shaking so badly that by the time she reached the bathroom, she had to lean against the patterned-glass door for support.
Even with it closed, she could still see Quinn’s deep brown torso gleaming in the moonlight. His trim waist flowed into bold curves of firm buttocks and long expanse of muscled thighs, strong calves, and narrow feet. Every inch of him so wonderfully familiar.
“Get a grip, girl,” she scolded herself, turning on the full force of the shower spray. She scrubbed her body with unnecessary vigor. She was still trembling when she switched off the hot water and let ice cold water cascade down her heated flesh. By the time she dried herself she was shivering with cold, but trembling in wild expectation.
As she creamed her skin with perfumed body lotion, Heather tried not to think of his hands and mouth on her body. She stood for the longest time in the dark, letting her eyes adjust and giving her breath a change to slow. She’d changed into the mauve satin, lace-edged, thigh-length gown and robe she’d left hanging in the bathroom. Her heart was racing as she cautiously opened the door and considered making a dash for the stairs... naturally without so much as a glance at him.
When her toes curled into the carpet, she realized she was in trouble. Quinn had shifted. He was on his back now, one hair-roughened leg bent at the knee, his hands at his sides. He didn’t say a word. He waited. But his dark eyes scrutinized her with raw masculine hunger that was unmistakable.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” She didn’t move. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.
“The girls?” he asked softly.
“Asleep...” her voice trailed off. She was forced to swallow but she couldn’t seem to divert her gaze.
Quinn felt no compunction about his nudity. His body demanded that he take what he needed while his heart warned him that he would never get enough of this woman. She made him feel things he had never felt before. He’d been wrong to board the plane in D.C. thinking he’d come to terms with his need for Heather. He had been wrong... so wrong.
After one look at her this morning, he finally acknowledged the depths of his feelings and passion for Heather. As he lay watching her, he trembled, imagining her cries of pleasure, her soft body convulsing beneath him as her carefully constructed defenses shattered in a billion pieces.
This had nothing to do with Cynthia. Nothing to do with his love or devotion to his child. No, this was between him and Heather. And it was extremely elemental.
He’d spent too much time away from her, denying his feelings for her. So he concentrated on her golden beauty draped in that unnecessary bit of fluff. His nostrils flared and he eagerly inhaled, hoping to catch her scent. His eyes smoldered. He was trembling... losing control. Abruptly he jerked his head away, rolling onto his side, away from her. He ground his teeth in mute frustration, forcing himself to ignore the urgent dictates of his manhood.
There was no doubt that he wanted her, but he wanted her willing. And he appreciated her respecting his wishes to let Cynthia come first before their own needs. The problems weren’t hers. They were his.
The effort of not touching her caused beads of perspiration to appear on his forehead, the taut muscles in his throat to stand out as he clenched his teeth. Quinn’s entire body seemed to throb with need. He left it up to her... either go or stay. Finally, unable to bear the agony of having her there and not being able to touch her, he grated impatiently, “Go to bed, Heather.”
“Not alone.” She came around the foot of the bed. Her eyes collided with his. “I’m tired of fighting my feelings. I want to be here... with you.”
Slowly Heather let her robe glide down her arms, then she slid first the right and then the left strap of her short nightgown off her petal-soft golden shoulders. The lace-edged bodice clung to the voluptuous swells of her body, then slid away from her chocolate-brown nipples, slipping down past the thick black curls veiling her womanly mound before it fell past her smooth thighs and calves and pooled at her feet.
Quinn released a harsh groan. “Pretty girl, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.” Then he took huge gulps of air into his lungs, for it seemed while she disrobed he had forgotten to breathe.
How badly did he want her, she wondered. Would he let his head rule his heart and fight his desire for her? She was taking a chance by offering herself to him. It was too late to stop now.
“That stuff about a cold shower is a lie. It didn’t do a thing for me. I still want you.”
Quinn’s slow smile brought her eyes to the shape of his mouth and caused her heart to race wildly within her chest. “I could have saved you the torture. I tried it not half hour before you came up.” He patted the bed. “Care to share a little body heat?”
Her dark eyes were full of laughter and love as she dropped into his eager arms. “Come on, Counselor. It was ninety-eight in the shade today.” She traced the shape of his mustache with a slim finger.
“Mere technicality,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the base of her throat. He called forth every bit of his remaining self-control not to crush her to him. Now wasn’t the time to rush, but to savor. His mouth covered hers and leisurely explored the mole at the corner that had been driving him mad with desire, before sucking her fleshy bottom lip into his mouth. He bit it, then worried the spot with his tongue. But the sweetness of her mouth overwhelmed him. He wasn’t satisfied with teasing. They’d been apart for too long. He was starving for her and soon took ravenous kisses.
He sent primitive fire as old and hot as the African sun pulsing through her bloodstream. Her entire being was suddenly alive, drinking in the taste, the feel, the smell, and the fierce heat of the man. Quinn was her man... her own black prince... her heart.
Heather caressed his dark length. She ran her sensitive fingertips over the smoothness of his shoulder, savoring the sinew and ripples of his back. Her senses flamed as she smoothed her palms down to his flanks.
He voiced his approval as she moved her hands over him. But when her soft hands cupped and gently caressed his most sensitive points, he found himself shaking from head to toe. Her fingertips were as wonderfully light as the wings of a butterfly. She made it so good for him... too good almost as he clenched his teeth. Heather enclosed his erection in her soft hands and gave him the firm caresses he craved. He was so close to letting go, his entire body shuddered and he quickly captured her hands, clasping them around his neck and holding her close to his wildly beating heart.
Heather held on to him, pressing her soft breasts into his chest, rubbing her nipples against him. She answered the unmistakable message he communicated with his tongue by taking it into her mouth and sucking.
Quinn’s hands roamed down the sides of her body until he reached the soft flare of her hips. She filled his hands as if she’d been made especially for him. Possessively he cupped and squeezed her lush behind, urging her up against his surging masculinity.
“Quinn,” she said, knowing this sweet loving was what she had been waiting for, needed since the moment he arrived. “Please...”
He paused, staring into her eyes, losing himself in their warm depths. When he lowered his head to worry the delicate skin behind her earlobe, Heather trembled in response. His tongue felt like hot velvet as he trailed down the side of her neck to the base of her throat. She found herself holding her breath as he continued downward toward her full aching breasts.
She tingled with sensation as he followed the outer curve of her breasts, his mouth hot and wonderful. She couldn’t hold back a moan when Quinn’s mouth closed over her nipple. He tantalized each peak in turn. She whimpered as the empty place inside of her demanded to be filled. The wet washing of his tongue, the tender scrape of his teeth, the sweet suction on her highly sensitive nipple intensified her longing to such dimensions that she gasped his name aloud. Quinn concentrated on Heather. He fought the hunger to possess and in turn be possessed. He needed this as much if not more than she did. He had been forced to go too long without her. He needed her.
Heather’s fingers unknowingly pulled on the short hair at his nape, her fingers wound within the soft thickness. Quinn was oblivious to the pain she caused, his long fingers between her spread thighs, stroking between the damp curls, following the slick folds of her body. Oh, she was hot. But Quinn planned to make her hotter... wetter. He replaced his hands with his mouth.
She couldn’t contain her sweet pleasure. He gave her exactly what she needed and where she needed it. Her nails scraped into Quinn’s shoulder blades as her senses soared and her entire body shuddered with a wonderfully sweet release. Quinn covered her mouth with his, containing her cries of absolute pleasure.
He couldn’t wait a half second longer. Quinn pressed slowly into her until he filled her as completely as she filled his heart. Their joining created a tenderness and warmth that was ageless... eternal... beautiful.
Her name rumbled from his throat as they came together, establishing a driving rhythm that was mutually satisfying. Too satisfying Quinn decided, gritting his teeth. In another few strokes he would explode. He slowed or tried to.
“Quinn...” she complained. He soothed her with a long, deep kiss. But Heather refused to be slowed. She was burning up with fever... a fever to be consumed by him. She stroked his nipples and licked his throat while quickening the alluring movement of her hips against his surging strength. Quinn groaned, unable to resist her urgency. If she wanted it quick and rough, that was what she was going to get. He lifted her thighs so that she was completely accessible to his full force. Sweat poured off him as he worked to satisfy her.
“Oh... oh,” she whimpered close to his ear. Her instinctively tightened inner muscles sent him over the edge. Quinn’s control crumbled as they reached a violently sweet completion together.
The warm soft breeze coming through the window was soothing. It was a lovely night, a cloudless night. Heather rested in a tangled heap beneath Quinn. Gradually her breathing quieted, and with her cheek against his chest, she focused on the steady rhythm of his heart.
Lacing his fingers into her thin loose braids, he gently tugged until she lifted her lips for a poignantly tender caress. She smiled, thoroughly pleased by the satisfaction she read in his eyes. With a contented sigh, she turned onto her side with her back against his front, his long legs curved possessively around hers, his arms cradling her against his chest.
“Sleepy?” He pressed his lips into her hair.
“Mmmm.” Long ebony lashes drifted down. “But I can’t sleep here with you.”
Quinn unconsciously tightened his arms around her. “Sleep. Let me worry about the girls.”
“But—” Heather’s mind was so hazy with fatigue that she couldn’t seem to organize her thoughts.
“Shush, I’m here... sleep.”
She did, unaware of the man who watched her through the night.
The morning sun was high in the sky, Quinn noted as sweat poured off him. He ran with rhythmic ease across the hard-packed sand. His body felt loose, his muscles worked in perfect symmetry, his heart beat vigorously. Another half mile and he’d start back. His pace didn’t slow. He knew what his body was capable of. What he couldn’t begin to understand was his heart. His feelings were so chaotic he was unable to contain them. Each stride served to loosen the tension from his body. But the real war raged on inside his head.
He’d left Heather’s side just before dawn, while the sky was still inky black with just a hint of violet. She was curled around her pillow like the sexy kitten he once likened her to. She’d been exhausted—and with good reason. After only a few hours of sleep, he’d awakened her and they’d made love again. For one enchanting night he had forced back all thoughts, all fears, and concentrated on one thing—making love to Heather.
Heather... Her name slid from his lips with the anguish and bittersweet longing lodged in his heart. He was deluding himself if he thought one night could eliminate a lifetime’s worth of longing. Heather was just so special. It had gotten so bad that he could no more control his need for her anymore than he could halt the flow of the wind or yank the stars from the heavens.
What was that song? “Just one look, that’s all it took,” he hummed to himself. He swore impatiently. He was worse than a kid at Christmas. Heather entered a room and his carefully constructed equilibrium flew out the nearest window.
Last night she’d stood beside the bed, simply looking at him. He’d forgotten everything. All he knew was that he had to make love to her. In truth, the second he had heard the water hit against the glass shower stall, his thoughts had gone wild. Through the patterned-glass door he watched the way the water sprayed along her petite frame. Saw the beads of moisture falling onto her upturned face, into her dark hair, down her neck, over her shoulders, around and over her full round breasts, then along her satiny smooth middle, into the ebony curls between her rounded thighs, along her beautifully shaped calves and small feet. Quinn had been fully aroused long before she opened the bathroom door.
When Quinn had left her side, he’d closed the drapes, then pulled on pajama bottoms and a robe before going down to the sofa bed. There had been no point in borrowing trouble. Cynthia was getting stronger each day. More confident than ever before. But Cynthia continued to see Heather as her friend, not as his lover. Perhaps he should discuss it with the therapist. His last thought before he went to sleep had been to wonder if he really cared what anyone thought of his relationship with Heather... including his child.
The girls’ giggling attempt in the kitchen while trying to be quiet roused him. He’d joined them and shared a breakfast of runny eggs and burnt toast and orange juice. Quinn had persuaded the girls to let Heather sleep.
After assuring himself that they had enough money to rent bikes and have lunch and dinner out, he waved them off. But not before administering a stern warning to the Hunter twins to take care on the freeway and watch out for the girls. Quinn managed to slip Cynthia his gold card in case of an emergency and reminded all of them to return no later than eight that evening.
He grinned as he thought of Heather’s nieces. They were so much like their aunt that he couldn’t help the affection that welled inside of him. The girls were young, but with a budding beauty that might one day rival the beautiful woman asleep in his bed. For an instant he imagined his son suckling at Heather’s breasts. They could make such sweet babies together.
“Dear God,” he prayed softly, “Help me... I love her.” He stumbled, almost sprawling face down on the sand as he recognized his feelings. He was in love with Heather.
No! Please... not that. Anything but that, he moaned as if in agony. He couldn’t go through that kind of torment again. Once was enough for any sane man. He swore expansively, his stride no longer strong or even. The roar of his refusal was like a thunderstorm mushrooming inside his head.
Pivoting sharply, Quinn ran into the surf while anguish rose within him as swiftly as the water level. He plunged full force into the crashing waves as hot tears blinded him. He wouldn’t love again! He couldn’t. He’d rather burn in the fires of hell than endure that acute state of vulnerability. How could he have done such a dumb-ass thing?
He had loved Peggy, given her his entire heart. Her sudden loss had nearly destroyed his sanity. He remembered her as she looked the night before her surgery. Her soft pleas replaced the roar of the surf.
“Don’t! Please, Quinn, don’t make me to go through with this,” she had begged as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Her large black eyes were like limpid pools of misery and fear. It was as if she’d predicted her own death.
He didn’t understand her reluctance. He loved her and wanted her to live. He came from proud, strong men... warriors. He wanted her to fight the cancer that threatened her life and their lives together. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of not sharing the years ahead with her and their baby girl. Peggy was too young to be facing death... too young.
Perhaps he wouldn’t have experienced such guilt later if he hadn’t been the one to discover the lump in her breasts. But he had. And he’d insisted that she undergo the double mastectomy. Peggy resisted, refusing to even consider facing life with vital parts of herself missing. They’d argued over it, including the day of the surgery. She’d cried and pressed her small hands protectively to her breasts.
No matter how many women the doctor had persuaded to talk with her while she’d been in the hospital, women who lived full productive lives after this type of surgery, Peggy was frightened. She was terrified by the possibility of being disfigured, of still having the cancer, and most of all convinced regardless of what he said that Quinn would eventually stop loving her.
In the end Peggy signed the consent forms because she was unable to withstand the pressure Quinn placed on her. Vanity be damned, he thought, Quinn wanted his wife alive, breasts or no breasts. He believed he could cope with anything as along as he had Peggy.
On the morning of the surgery, Peggy had kissed Quinn and Cynthia as if she never expected to see them again. She’d clung to him, her eyes swimming in tears, hearing but not accepting his unwavering insistence that she would be fine.
Elaine and Darnell had waited with him through the surgery while he’d sent Cynthia home with Mrs. Thornton. Although his stomach had been a hard ball of tension, he couldn’t swallow anything, not even antacids. He’d gone to the chapel, prayed as hard as he knew how that she be spared, constantly reassuring himself that he’d done the only thing he could.
When he’d returned to the waiting room he discovered he’d lost his wager with God. Quinn had gambled with Peggy’s life and lost. She had died on the operating table from heart failure. They’d been unable to revive her. A young, healthy woman was dead... a vital part of himself had been buried alongside her.
Five years hadn’t altered the trauma of that day nor had he been able to forgive himself for forcing her into the surgery. Maybe she would have lived only a few months without the surgery. No, he thought, he’d wanted her alive. He just wished she had forgiven him, trusted him. Not left him alone wondering if she ever would have forgiven him. Quinn couldn’t forget, nor had he forgiven himself.
Quinn eventually dropped exhausted on the beach. The sun dried the moisture from his skin and hair as he sat brooding over his options.
He’d really messed up. When it came to love, he didn’t even know the ground rules. Logic and factual deductions didn’t apply. If he had had any sense at all, he wouldn’t have gone near Heather Gregory in the first place. Considering his past history, he was crazy to have even kissed her. His good intentions had lost out to his hot-blooded attraction to her. But he had wanted her so badly that night in her condo, he had stopped thinking and let his hormones take over.
Quinn couldn’t handle the fact that Heather made him feel things not even Peggy had made him feel. It was a different kind of love. It was deep, it was hot, it was damn scary.
So now what? Just this morning he entertained the idea of bringing their involvement out into the open. That was before he knew he was in love with her. Heather deserved better than what he had to offer. She deserved a man who was whole on the inside. A man who could give her the kind of love and lifelong commitment she needed. She deserved a wedding ring and bridesmaids and babies... lots of babies. She deserved the very best.
How was he going to find the strength to let her go?