Cynthia was dreaming again. Cade was besideher; resting on one elbow as he stared down at her. He smiled,brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Only in a dream, shethought sluggishly and reached out to touch his cheek. He turnedhis head and kissed her fingers. She smiled languidly. He leaneddown and kissed her cheek softly and she rolled her head, finallytouching his lips briefly with hers.
He drew back, gazing down at her with aperplexed expression. Hesitantly he leaned forward again, softlybrushing her lips with his. His lips were warm. She gazed up athim, her heart beginning to flutter. A queasy feeling began in herstomach. Again he bent his head and his lips questioned hers gentlyat first, and then with more emotion when she responded.
With a start she realized that this was nodream. Cade was actually kissing her - and very well. For a momentshe lay still, afraid any movement would frighten him away like awild cat in the daylight. But they shouldn’t be doing this. Nothere alone on the couch. She put her hand on his chest with theintention of pushing him away, but the warmth of his muscular cheston her palm was exciting. Instead, her fingers slid across thesmooth muscles and up to his neck, drawing his mouth down harder onhers.
He finally drew away. “Cindy?” His voice washusky and bewildered as he gazed down at her.
Now was the time to stop this. She shouldtell him to let her up. That was simple enough. But no words camefrom her mouth as she lay there, mesmerized by his ardentexpression.
Again he stroked her cheek and bent his head.This time his lips left hers and wandered to her neck, sending herheartbeat into frenzy. His hand moved down her side to her waistand then down to her leg, caressing the back of her knee in adelightful way. He was so gentle, so sweet. Could this actually beCade? And then he moved over her, his fingers sliding up her arm asit lay beside her head. Lacing his fingers through hers, his palmstouched hers – so warm and exciting. His lips became more urgent asthey found hers again.
For a moment she had the shocking realizationthat the situation was out of control. She squirmed to get out fromunder him, but the movement was misinterpreted. She caught herbreath in a startled gasp of pain.
“Russ?”
“Darling,” He spoke in a husky whisper. Hiswarm breath quickened against her throat. His lips found hers in anardent kiss.
In the fog of desire she knew one thing - itwas too late to protest. All desire to push him away vanished andshe clung to him, lost in the ecstasy of his urgent lovemaking.
Some time later she awoke in his arms. Thefire flickered feebly, its passion curbed by time as well. Shestared at the fire, shocked by the enormity of what she had done.How could she have allowed this to happen? She should never havelain down on the couch with him. She knew that at the time, so whyhad she pushed reason aside? Because it was Cade. Not only becauseshe loved him, but also because she trusted him. Had Cade plannedto seduce her, or was he also a victim of mislaid trust? After all,she had made the first move, turning her head as he kissed hercheek.
She moved away from him and stared down athis relaxed features. When had he changed from the unattractiveolder man she met in the diner to the good looking young man whonow lay beside her? Was she blinded by love now, or had she merelybeen unobservant before?
She gently worked her nightgown out fromunder him, hoping all the while that he wouldn’t wake. Who wouldwake from that sleeping body? The man she made love to last nightor the recluse - Cade? Her cheeks burned. How many times had shesworn she would never do that with anyone but her husband? She hadbeen so sure it would never happen with her consent. But Cadehadn’t raped her. She had been a willing participant. In herconfused state of mind, she had convinced herself that he lovedher. But now her head was clear. Cade only wanted one thing - andshe had foolishly submitted. For him it was nothing more than abrief episode of pleasure.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she slippedaway from the couch. Cade still slept peacefully - not that hewould have cared if she left at this point anyway. A lump wasforming in her throat and she was afraid she was going to retch.She hurried to her bathroom.
Half an hour later, her eyes swollen and herchest sore from sobbing, she turned her face up to the warm waterin the shower. Clenching her hands together she prayed fervently.“Oh God,” she cried softly. “Please let me wake up and find outthis was only a dream.” But when she opened her eyes, it was nodream. She scrubbed her skin rosy for nearly an hour and finallyabandoned the attempt to remove the guilt. She dressed as the sunwas sending its first rays through the bathroom window. Timecouldn’t be turned back. The mistake had been made and she had nochoice but to acknowledge it and get on with her life. It wasn’tthe worst thing that could happen. She stopped at the door andcaught her breath. No, certainly not. It could be much worse. Butit was only once. She shook her head. That was all it took,providing it was the right time. Was it? She tried to calculate,and the blood pumped in her neck. And this could be exactly theright time.
She jerked the door open. Stop thinking aboutit. It was too late or too early to do anything about it now. In afew more weeks she could make a routine visit to the doctor. Shemight be worrying for no reason. After all, even if it was theright time, it didn’t mean pregnancy was inevitable.
When
