your life for that one time you didn’t believe her?” she asked gently. “She wouldn’t want that, Worth.”
“It’s easier said than done. I don’t trust my judgment, Amy. I don’t trust women.”
“I can understand that,” she admitted. Her eyes wandered over him, loving the bigness of him, the strength, even this very rare vulnerability. If only it wasn’t such a potentially tragic situation that was causing it.
“I wish I could say something that would help,” she faltered. “I remember times like this. There aren’t adequate words, you know.”
His eyes stared blankly into his coffee. “I hate like hell to feel helpless. There’s nothing I can do, nothing at all, except sit and wait.”
“And you hate waiting,” she murmured dryly. “Yes, I know. But what you have to keep in mind is that she has competent doctors, and she’s in excellent health, and she has a will like forged steel. That’s a powerful combination.”
“I keep telling myself that. But I can’t be sure. Neither can they.” He put the coffee cup down and took another large sip of whiskey.
“That can’t be helping,” she said hesitantly.
He laughed bitterly. “It’s this or a woman,” he murmured. He glanced at her. “And the only available one I know is taboo.”
“Worth…” she began hesitantly.
He touched her mouth with a long finger. “I don’t need a virgin sacrifice,” he whispered.
“It wouldn’t be one,” she whispered back. Her eyes searched his. “I want you.”
His breath drew in and went out very slowly. “Amy…”
“I know I’m not beautiful,” she ground out. “I’m too thin, and my face has odd angles. But I’m twenty-eight, damn it, and I’ve been saving it all up for the right time and the right man.” Her eyes, tearful, searched his. “I know you’re not offering me commitment and happily ever after. I don’t even care. Tonight you need someone very badly, and I’d like to be that someone. You could think of me as a bad tasting medicine….” she faltered with a wobbly laugh.
“Bad tasting,” he scoffed. He bent and kissed her very softly. “There isn’t one thing wrong with you, Amy Glenn, and I want you obsessively. But…”
“Let me give you the little comfort I can,” she whispered. “I know all too well how long this night is going to be for you. I’ll lie in your arms and hold you and you can have me.”
His lips parted on a rough breath. “Amy, the risk,” he began slowly.
“There isn’t any risk,” she lied, easing his conscience. She put her mouth very slowly to his, loving him, wanting him. It would never be more than this, and perhaps it was wrong. But she’d live on this all her life. And this poor, tormented man would be able to face his crisis tomorrow a little more rested and at peace than he would otherwise. “Please,” she whispered at his lips.
With a hard groan, he pulled her into his arms and returned the kiss wildly, hungrily, his heart slamming against his chest, his breath ragged. Seconds later, he picked her up and carried her to his room.
She felt tingly all over as she looked at him, measuring the sheer size of him, all muscle, all man. She thought about lying with him in bed, with nothing between them, in the darkness, and her breath caught. Dark against light, hard muscle against soft skin…
He laid her gently on his bed, with the single lamp by the bed burning softly, and he sat down beside her and looked at her for a long time. His fingers slid under her jeans to brush over her flat belly and she tensed. He looked up at her frozen face. “Like it?” he asked gently. He flattened his hand, and it was so big that it almost completely covered her stomach. His fingers brushed, teased, and his eyes never left her face. “You’re very soft.”
“Your hand…is enormous,” she whispered.
“Like my feet.” He laughed softly. His eyes fell to the T-shirt. He eased it over her head and tossed it aside, staring down at
“It’s easier said than done. I don’t trust my judgment, Amy. I don’t trust women.”
“I can understand that,” she admitted. Her eyes wandered over him, loving the bigness of him, the strength, even this very rare vulnerability. If only it wasn’t such a potentially tragic situation that was causing it.
“I wish I could say something that would help,” she faltered. “I remember times like this. There aren’t adequate words, you know.”
His eyes stared blankly into his coffee. “I hate like hell to feel helpless. There’s nothing I can do, nothing at all, except sit and wait.”
“And you hate waiting,” she murmured dryly. “Yes, I know. But what you have to keep in mind is that she has competent doctors, and she’s in excellent health, and she has a will like forged steel. That’s a powerful combination.”
“I keep telling myself that. But I can’t be sure. Neither can they.” He put the coffee cup down and took another large sip of whiskey.
“That can’t be helping,” she said hesitantly.
He laughed bitterly. “It’s this or a woman,” he murmured. He glanced at her. “And the only available one I know is taboo.”
“Worth…” she began hesitantly.
He touched her mouth with a long finger. “I don’t need a virgin sacrifice,” he whispered.
“It wouldn’t be one,” she whispered back. Her eyes searched his. “I want you.”
His breath drew in and went out very slowly. “Amy…”
“I know I’m not beautiful,” she ground out. “I’m too thin, and my face has odd angles. But I’m twenty-eight, damn it, and I’ve been saving it all up for the right time and the right man.” Her eyes, tearful, searched his. “I know you’re not offering me commitment and happily ever after. I don’t even care. Tonight you need someone very badly, and I’d like to be that someone. You could think of me as a bad tasting medicine….” she faltered with a wobbly laugh.
“Bad tasting,” he scoffed. He bent and kissed her very softly. “There isn’t one thing wrong with you, Amy Glenn, and I want you obsessively. But…”
“Let me give you the little comfort I can,” she whispered. “I know all too well how long this night is going to be for you. I’ll lie in your arms and hold you and you can have me.”
His lips parted on a rough breath. “Amy, the risk,” he began slowly.
“There isn’t any risk,” she lied, easing his conscience. She put her mouth very slowly to his, loving him, wanting him. It would never be more than this, and perhaps it was wrong. But she’d live on this all her life. And this poor, tormented man would be able to face his crisis tomorrow a little more rested and at peace than he would otherwise. “Please,” she whispered at his lips.
With a hard groan, he pulled her into his arms and returned the kiss wildly, hungrily, his heart slamming against his chest, his breath ragged. Seconds later, he picked her up and carried her to his room.
She felt tingly all over as she looked at him, measuring the sheer size of him, all muscle, all man. She thought about lying with him in bed, with nothing between them, in the darkness, and her breath caught. Dark against light, hard muscle against soft skin…
He laid her gently on his bed, with the single lamp by the bed burning softly, and he sat down beside her and looked at her for a long time. His fingers slid under her jeans to brush over her flat belly and she tensed. He looked up at her frozen face. “Like it?” he asked gently. He flattened his hand, and it was so big that it almost completely covered her stomach. His fingers brushed, teased, and his eyes never left her face. “You’re very soft.”
“Your hand…is enormous,” she whispered.
“Like my feet.” He laughed softly. His eyes fell to the T-shirt. He eased it over her head and tossed it aside, staring down at
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