of his memory had tapered off. For the first couple of months they’d all but crippled him, the pain was so intense. Then as he learned not to force the recollections, to just let them happen, it became easier to bear. That was the first time.
The second time h e’d found out while in hospital, his back swathed in bandages, how close he and his new team had come to being toasted. Thanks to Jake, who’d smelled out the bomber, they were alive today. Not everyone had been so lucky. Those were the memories he could have lived without. Seeing a member of his team blown to hell because he’d stopped to help a village child—one who happened to be wearing a bomb—was a nightmare he couldn’t escape. Cliff was one of the best. He’d left behind two little girls who’d never get the chance to walk down the isle with their daddy.
Stiff, he rose out of the chair he’ d ended up spending the night in, and wandered over to the window facing Sara's house. His still undone jeans hung low on his hips, reminding him of last night’s pleasure.
He didn’t regret it. He couldn’t. But h e wondered what thoughts had been going through her mind, as she rushed to get her clothes on, and get out the door. Was she sorry for confiding in him? Or was this about the two of them?
Wishing now they would have waited, he turned away from the darkened house across the street. Moving towards his room, he stepped on something soft and silky, and bending to pick it up, found Sara’s panties. She’d been in such a rush she hadn’t even grabbed them. They were going to have to talk this out later. He’d give her a little time to rest and then he was going to be at her door, hoping she’d answer it. He threw on a pair of sweats and running shoes and headed out into the brisk morning, Jake by his side.
***
Sara woke to the rich aroma of fresh coffee and—was that cinnamon? Rising, she threw on her robe over her bare skin, trying not to notice the still faint marks on her hips made from Nick's fingers holding her in place last night. Last night. If not for those prints and her borrowed dress resting over the end of the bed, she could almost believe she’d dreamt the whole thing.
She’ d enjoyed herself with Ty. He’d been sweet, and fun. But then Nick had shown up, like some kind of misplaced white knight come to save the day. Sara had never thought of dancing as a type of foreplay, until last night. Even though Nick had not been the most skilled of partners, he’d swept her away.
Then later, co nfiding in him about everything––maybe she should have been embarrassed for crying all over his shoulder like that, but instead all she could feel was relief. It’d been bottled up inside, waiting for too long to explode. There had been no time for self-pity. She’d been too busy trying to stay ahead of Tom and his men.
Ni ck inspired feelings in her she’d never felt before. Even though he aggravated and frustrated her, he had also shown her he could be patient, kind and giving.
The lovemaking had been transcen ding. Even now, hours later, thoughts of it sent goose bumps shimmying up and down her spine. Sara had always played a passive role in sex. Tom preferred it that way. But with Nick, she had found herself being the aggressor, and she liked the sense of control it gave her.
He’ d given her back her self-esteem, and she loved him for it. There, she’d admitted it. She loved him. She’d been sure Tom had killed her ability to care about any other man. Then Nick came into her life and blew that right out of the water. Sitting down on the edge of the bed before she fell down, Sara clasped her arms around herself and squeezed.
I’m in love.
Nick was everything that Tom could never be. Honorable, honest, trustworthy. Caring, kind and sexy. No doubt about that. Picturing him sprawled in that rocker last night with his big body sated, lips swollen, shirt off and jeans undone had her warming up all over again. Wanting to apologize
The second time h e’d found out while in hospital, his back swathed in bandages, how close he and his new team had come to being toasted. Thanks to Jake, who’d smelled out the bomber, they were alive today. Not everyone had been so lucky. Those were the memories he could have lived without. Seeing a member of his team blown to hell because he’d stopped to help a village child—one who happened to be wearing a bomb—was a nightmare he couldn’t escape. Cliff was one of the best. He’d left behind two little girls who’d never get the chance to walk down the isle with their daddy.
Stiff, he rose out of the chair he’ d ended up spending the night in, and wandered over to the window facing Sara's house. His still undone jeans hung low on his hips, reminding him of last night’s pleasure.
He didn’t regret it. He couldn’t. But h e wondered what thoughts had been going through her mind, as she rushed to get her clothes on, and get out the door. Was she sorry for confiding in him? Or was this about the two of them?
Wishing now they would have waited, he turned away from the darkened house across the street. Moving towards his room, he stepped on something soft and silky, and bending to pick it up, found Sara’s panties. She’d been in such a rush she hadn’t even grabbed them. They were going to have to talk this out later. He’d give her a little time to rest and then he was going to be at her door, hoping she’d answer it. He threw on a pair of sweats and running shoes and headed out into the brisk morning, Jake by his side.
***
Sara woke to the rich aroma of fresh coffee and—was that cinnamon? Rising, she threw on her robe over her bare skin, trying not to notice the still faint marks on her hips made from Nick's fingers holding her in place last night. Last night. If not for those prints and her borrowed dress resting over the end of the bed, she could almost believe she’d dreamt the whole thing.
She’ d enjoyed herself with Ty. He’d been sweet, and fun. But then Nick had shown up, like some kind of misplaced white knight come to save the day. Sara had never thought of dancing as a type of foreplay, until last night. Even though Nick had not been the most skilled of partners, he’d swept her away.
Then later, co nfiding in him about everything––maybe she should have been embarrassed for crying all over his shoulder like that, but instead all she could feel was relief. It’d been bottled up inside, waiting for too long to explode. There had been no time for self-pity. She’d been too busy trying to stay ahead of Tom and his men.
Ni ck inspired feelings in her she’d never felt before. Even though he aggravated and frustrated her, he had also shown her he could be patient, kind and giving.
The lovemaking had been transcen ding. Even now, hours later, thoughts of it sent goose bumps shimmying up and down her spine. Sara had always played a passive role in sex. Tom preferred it that way. But with Nick, she had found herself being the aggressor, and she liked the sense of control it gave her.
He’ d given her back her self-esteem, and she loved him for it. There, she’d admitted it. She loved him. She’d been sure Tom had killed her ability to care about any other man. Then Nick came into her life and blew that right out of the water. Sitting down on the edge of the bed before she fell down, Sara clasped her arms around herself and squeezed.
I’m in love.
Nick was everything that Tom could never be. Honorable, honest, trustworthy. Caring, kind and sexy. No doubt about that. Picturing him sprawled in that rocker last night with his big body sated, lips swollen, shirt off and jeans undone had her warming up all over again. Wanting to apologize
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