Dom, she whispered in her heart. Dom.
What the hell was he doing?
He was kissing a woman as he’d never kissed one before.
He was needing a woman.
She was luscious under his hands, soft, yielding but wanton.
Wanton. The word played in the back of his brain, in the tiny section that was free to think anything at all. For now wasn’t about thinking. It was about feeling, touching, tasting, all five senses awake, alive, tuned to this woman as he’d never been tuned to a woman before.
Wanton.
That was the way she was with him. He knew-in that part of his brain he hadn’t seemed to possess until he’d met her-that wanton wasn’t an adjective he’d ever hear applied to Erin. She was the good child, the compliant, clever daughter, the dutiful and faithful friend.
She’d done all she was supposed to in life-but right now she was pleasing herself.
She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her.
Every part of her was yielding. Her body was crushed against his, her breasts moulding deliciously against his chest, her mouth closed on his, her tongue…her tongue…
She tasted of salt and heat and want. She tasted of everything he’d ever dreamed of.
His kiss deepened and she matched him, demanding as much as she gave, willing him to want more.
His hands tugged her hard against him, his fingers cupping her butt in her silken pyjamas so she was pulled right against him. She was doing her own tugging.
He could do with her what he willed and he knew that she’d come.
She’d follow where he led, or she’d lead herself if he willed.
He should stop. He had to stop.
But he could no sooner tear himself away from her than he could fly. He felt as if a part of him that had been torn away at birth had miraculously come home.
Erin…
Her hair smelled of smoke.
Erin.
The fire crackled in the grate, a small hissing explosion. It caught him. Pulled him up.
No.
Hell, what was he doing?
He was hers. Whatever he’d ask of her in this moment she’d give. She could love him no more in the future than she did now.
He was her man. She was his woman and she’d come home.
Dom.
This was a long, lingering kiss, deep and sweet and right. She clung to him and he held her close, savouring the kiss as she savoured it, deepening it as she deepened it. Tugging her closer. Closer.
Loving her as she loved him?
But…Maybe not. No!
For the fire had spat and hissed and he’d pulled away as she could never have pulled away. Now he was holding her at arm’s length, gazing at her as one might gaze at a precious, unattainable thing. Something so far out of his reach it was a dream.
‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Dom…’
‘I just…meant to tell you…meant to show you why your offer is impossible.’ His voice was shaken. Desperate. ‘It’s the most generous offer I’ve ever heard-to give up your city practice and come here. But there’s this between us…There’s this. I never meant it to go so far.’
‘So?’
‘I don’t want it.’
‘It seems to me,’ she whispered, fingers of ice suddenly whispering their way round her heart, ‘that you do want it. As much as I do.’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’ve been here for less than two days. This makes no sense.’
‘It makes all the sense in the world.’
‘No,’ he said, more strongly now. ‘You’re sweet and smart and beautiful and I’m not about to take advantage.’
‘Hey! Isn’t that ever so slightly patronising?’
‘Whatever. But it’s true.’ He kissed her again then, but lightly this time, holding himself rigidly under control. The drama of the night had unveiled his need, but he had himself back together.
He slipped from under her blankets and rose and she could have wept.
‘I want to help,’ she said, and if she sounded needy she couldn’t help it.
‘I can’t accept.’
‘You might have to accept,’ she whispered. ‘This community is too big for one doctor. You’re doing what you have to. Maybe I am, too.’
He shook his head. ‘Neither of us is making sense,’ he said softly, and he stooped and touched her lightly on the lips. It was a feather touch. It was like a touch of farewell.
‘Enough. This is crazy. It’s dreams talking, not reality. Goodnight, Erin,’ he whispered. ‘Go to sleep. In the morning we’ll be sane again.’
‘But I won’t be sane tomorrow,’ she muttered rebelliously under her breath as he returned to his makeshift bed. ‘I’m sane now. I’m feeling like I’ve been insane all my life and I’ve just woken up. I’m feeling like it’s time to come home.’
She didn’t say it out loud, but she meant it. Somehow she just had to convince Dom…
That love worked?
She had to convince Dom that what she felt was for ever.
She hardly slept. When the phone went at six it didn’t get the chance to ring a second time before Erin was out in the hall to answer it.
There were still firemen in the house. One of the men-the fire-chief, Graham-had started down the stairs to answer it. He stopped when he saw her. She smiled, waved the receiver at him, and pulled the sitting-room door closed so as not to wake Dom and the boys.
‘Doc?’ On the end of the line, a man’s voice sounded frantic. The terror of last night kicked in again. Just because last night’s terror was gone, it didn’t mean the world was a safe place for everyone.
‘I’m a doctor,’ she said, smoothly professional. ‘How can I help?’
‘But the doc-’
‘We had a house fire last night,’ she said, trying to sound like it was no drama. ‘Dr Dom’s taken up with his kids. I’m the doctor on call. Will you allow me to help you instead?’
There was a pause. Then a shattering sob. ‘I’ve just woken up,’ he managed. ‘I think my wife’s dead.’
It took all of two seconds to decide someone needed to go, and that someone should be her.
This was Dom’s patient. In theory she should wake him. But she glanced back into the living room and all three boys were sleeping like the dead.
Martin had snuggled next to Dom during the night. Dom had his arm across the little boy’s shoulders. The sight made her suddenly blink away tears.
She was almost…jealous. It was dumb, but there it was. These guys were a family, and she wanted to be a part of it.
At least she could give them this time. Which meant this was her call.
Quietly she asked the questions she needed to know.
The lady had been suffering from advanced metastatic cancer. Dom had been looking after her at home. Yes, Dom had said she might die, but surely not so soon…
She covered the receiver and talked to Graham, who’d been watching with concern from the landing. ‘Is there someone who can take me to Hughie Matheson’s house?’
