02_Groom of Her Own (22 page)

“You have beautiful hair, Sam,” he said softly at last, continuing to play with it.

“Thanks.” Her voice sounded like a croak, and she cleared her throat. “It’s the real thing, too. I’d never pick this color on purpose,” she said nervously.

“Why not?”

“Why would anyone want red hair? It clashes with everything.”

“Red? I wouldn’t call your hair red,” he mused, finally releasing her gaze to study the strands he held in his hand. “It’s more…burnished. Like the color of autumn.”

Sam struggled to take a deep breath. This wasn’t working out at all as she’d planned. She thought they were going to have a nice, rational discussion about their relationship. She hadn’t expected Brad to…well…do this. It was throwing her off balance, making it hard to breathe, let alone think.

“Um, Brad, I…”

He pressed a finger to her lips, effectively silencing what he supposed was going to be a protest. She gazed at him wide-eyed and swallowed convulsively, a pulse beating frantically in the hollow of her throat.

His gaze dropped to that very spot, and then he transferred his fingertip to the faded welt near her upper lip, letting it rest there gently. “Is this still tender?” he asked, his own voice strangely hoarse.

She shook her head as the touch of his finger sent a tremor rippling through her body. “No,” she whispered.

“Good. Because I don’t want to hurt you, Sam, but I’m not sure I can wait any longer to do this.”

Very slowly, very deliberately, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, gently, tentatively testing her response, gauging her reaction. He was fairly certain that she would welcome his kiss—if she listened to her heart—but there was a chance he’d misread her attraction. This was the real test. He moved his lips over hers coaxingly, seeking a response, waiting for an unspoken invitation to continue.

As Brad’s lips worked their magic, Sam suddenly felt as if she’d consumed the entire bottle of wine instead of just two glasses. She was dizzy and light-headed and drowning. And she was also fighting a losing battle with her resolve. She knew this was
not
the right way to go about ending their relationship. She needed to think rationally, and she was only going to be able to do that if she backed off, put some physical distance between them.

Logically, Sam knew that was what she should do. But it felt so good, and so right, being close to Brad. What could it hurt, just this once, to let herself enjoy a moment of tenderness with a man who seemed to care about her very much—as a person, not just for her physical assets, not just because he was looking for a good time or hoping for a one-night stand? Maybe it would be okay, she told herself, as long as things didn’t get out of hand. And they wouldn’t, not with Brad. That wasn’t his style. So just this once, maybe she could let herself respond.

Except there was still a problem, she realized. It wasn’t that she was uncertain
how
to respond. She’d been kissed by enough men in her time to have developed some technique. But this was a unique situation. Brad was…well…different. He was religious. How much response did he expect? She didn’t want to come on too strong. Maybe he played this game by different rules. And if so, she didn’t have a clue what they were.

Brad felt her hesitate, and reluctantly he backed off slightly, enough to look down into her eyes. They were troubled, but he could also see the ardent spark glowing in their depths, could feel the trembling desire in her body as he held her in his arms. Yet she was holding back. “Sam? What is it?” he asked gently, his lips traveling across her forehead, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

She swallowed. “I…I don’t know how to kiss a minister,” she whispered.

Brad’s soft, throaty chuckle of relief did strange things to her metabolism. “I’ll tell you what, Sam,” he suggested, his voice husky with emotion, the leashed passion in his eyes making her breath catch in her throat “Just try kissing a man.” And with that he pulled her into his arms and lowered his lips to hers once again.

This time Sam threw caution to the wind. She could feel the hard, uneven thudding of his heart against her breast as he held her tightly, and a powerful surge of longing ricocheted through her body. If this was going to be her only chance to taste Brad’s kisses, she might as well take full advantage of it. So she did exactly what he asked. She kissed a man. Thoroughly, completely, without reserve.

Brad had hoped for a response. What he got was an earthquake. Not that he minded. Far from it. It was just that the intensity of Sam’s passion surprised him. The kiss that had started off gentle and tentative quickly became much more consumning as they both allowed the passion that had simmered below the surface for weeks to explode.

Sam moaned softly as Brad molded her slim, pliant body to his with strong, sure arms, deepening the kiss until their smoldering passion became a consuming name. His mouth moved over hers with a fierce intensity, and Sam couldn’t be sure whether the drumming pulse she heard was her own or his. But it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered for this moment in time was the oneness she felt with this man, whose surprisingly deep passion was turning her world upside down. She put thoughts of tomorrow aside as they explored the wonderful magic of the attraction that had pulled them together almost since the beginning, long before either was consciously aware of it.

When they at last drew apart, both were shaken and breathless, and Sam’s face was flushed.

“Wow!” Her voice was hushed and awed, her eyes dazed, her lips still throbbing from the touch of his. “I didn’t know ministers could kiss like that!”

Brad managed a crooked grin as he struggled to calm his own raging pulse. “Neither did I,” he admitted. The response she had drawn out of him surprised him as much as it had obviously surprised her.

As Sam struggled to get her own pulse under control, she looked at him suspiciously. “Brad, are you sure you haven’t, well, done more of this than you said?”

“No. In fact, to be honest, I was a little bit intimidated,” he admitted.

She looked up at him in surprise. “Why?”

He shrugged and pulled her close again, liking the way her head nestled naturally into his shoulder. “Because I
haven’t
done much of this. I wasn’t kidding when I said my experience was limited, Rachel was the only woman I was ever intimate with, and other than that it was just a simple good-night kiss for the few other women I dated. Let me tell you, in my book this was
not
a simple goodnight kiss,” he said with a throaty chuckle. “Anyway, I guess I was afraid that I would fall short of…well, I know you’ve dated a lot more than I have, and…” His voice trailed off.

Sam pulled away slightly and looked up at him. “Brad, just for the record, I’d like to clear up some misconceptions you seem to have about my dating background,” she said with a frown.

“Sam, it’s not necessary. All that matters to me is what we have together. I’ve known you long enough to get a very good sense of the kind of person you are
now,
and whatever happened in your past dating history isn’t relevant.”

“But I’d still like you to know. Because my ‘past dating history,’ as you put it, wasn’t nearly as wild as I have a feeling you think it was.”

“You don’t have to do this, Sam,” he said, his eyes sincere and direct.

“I know. But I want to, okay?” She drew a deep breath. “Randy was the first man I was intimate with, and only after we were married. When he ran out on me, I didn’t want anything to do with men for quite a while. For one thing, you can imagine what his leaving did to my newly acquired and very fragile self-image. But after a year or so, I started to feel very lonely. And I needed to find out if I was attractive enough to get dates, I guess. That’s when I joined a singles group and started to socialize more.”

Sam’s eyes skittered away from his and she glanced down, playing with a button on her skirt. “There were a couple of times in those next few years when the loneliness got so bad that I thought intimacy would help, even if it was only for a night or two,” she said slowly, her voice soft. “So I…I tried it. But I was wrong. It only made things worse. And after two episodes like that I swore off one-night stands—and any other kind of stands. Besides, I guess some of my Christian upbringing stuck, because I just felt it was morally wrong.”

She looked up then, her eyes connecting directly with his. “I’ve dated a lot, Brad. But that’s all I do—date. Most guys aren’t interested in dating indefinitely without a payoff, so my dating roster changes frequently. But even casual dating has gotten old in the last year or so. To be honest, I rarely date at all anymore. So now you know.”

Sam was right to assume that Brad had envisioned her social life to be much more…active. It was certainly the impression he’d picked up from Laura. But he couldn’t doubt the sincerity in Sam’s eyes. He would stake his life that she was telling him the truth.

“Will you forgive me if I say I’m glad that my impression was inaccurate?” he said. “It wouldn’t have made any difference, because I think that the Sam I know is terrific. But I have to admit that it was hard to reconcile the image I had of your past with the woman you are now. I’m glad that I don’t need to.”

“So the fact that I’ve had two…encounters…doesn’t bother you?” she asked carefully, her voice soft.

“Sam,” he drew her close again, cradling her head against his chest. “People have reasons for what they do. They make mistakes. They have regrets. We all do. You survived a very difficult, lonely period in your life in the only way you knew how at the time. And you learned from it That’s the best we can hope for in this imperfect, human world. What matters most to me is that the Sam Reynolds I know is a wonderful person. And I’m glad she’s part of my life.”

He’d given her the perfect opening to bring up their relationship, she realized. But she simply didn’t have the strength to do it, not when his lips were in her hair, and his hands were working magic again, and her heart was his willing partner.

Finally he drew back and smiled at her. “I’ll tell you what, Sam. It’s still early. I could pick up a video, if you like. Or better yet, we could just watch one of those old romantic classics from that collection you keep hidden in the office closet.”

Sam looked up at him in surprise, color stealing onto her cheeks at his teasing tone. “You saw them when you stayed that night, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

“So my secret’s out, I guess.”

“Yep. Sam Reynolds—a closet romantic. Literally. And a softie under that sophisticated career woman image.” He put a finger under her chin and gently tipped her head up so she had to meet his eyes, which were warm and tender. “And I like you just the way you are,” he added with an intimate smile before draping his arm around her shoulders. “Now, personally, I vote for Cary Grant. He’s always been one of my favorites. What do you say?”

She nodded, her throat tight. “Okay.”

And so they watched her old romantic movie, cuddling on the couch, missing some of the screen action as they played out their own romantic scenes. Then they had more dessert and coffee, prolonging the evening as much as possible, neither wanting this special moment in their relationship to end. But at last Brad reluctantly removed his arm from around her shoulders and looked at his watch.

“I have to go, Sam,” he said with a sigh. “It’s nearly two o’clock.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding!”

“No. I wish I were.”

He took her hand as they walked toward the door, lacing his fingers through hers. “How about dinner tomorrow?” he said.

“Not here, I hope,” she said with a wry grin.

He chuckled. “No. I thought we’d go out.”

“Good choice.”

“So…is it a date?” he asked, stepping outside and turning back to face her.

When he looked at her like that, it was impossible to refuse. Besides, despite what had happened tonight, she hadn’t changed her mind about breaking things off. Brad had said some nice things earlier about mistakes and regrets and doing the best one could in the circumstances. But a one-night stand, wrong as that was, was
not
equivalent to an irresponsible action that senselessly took two young lives. She doubted whether he would be as understanding about that “mistake.” Ending their relationship was still the right thing to do.

“Yes,” she said, forcing herself to smile.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six?”

“That would be fine.”

He reached for her then, and she went willingly, closing her eyes as she hugged him fiercely, the hard planes of his body solid and strong against her slender curves. And as his lips claimed hers in a warm, lingering kiss, she knew that saying good-bye to this wonderful man was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.

Chapter Nine

S
am glanced at her watch for the dozenth time and frowned. She was sure Brad had said six o’clock. It was now six-twenty. Restlessly she moved to the front window and pushed the curtain aside to stare at the gray shroud of rain that had been falling relentlessly all afternoon. She peered into the gloom, her eyes scanning the grounds and parking lot, but there was no sign of him. With a sigh she let the fabric fall back into place. This wasn’t like him, she thought worriedly. Brad was
never
late.

Sam ran her fingers through her hair distractedly and wandered toward the kitchen, pausing on the threshold. Had she come in here for some reason? she wondered. If so, it escaped her. She shook her head and sank down at the dinette table, drumming her fingers on the glass top. Brad could have gotten caught in traffic, she reasoned. It did happen, even to punctual people. He’d probably be along any minute, she reassured herself, trying to remain calm.

By six-thirty, when she dialed his number and got only the answering machine, Sam wasn’t calm anymore. By six forty-five, she started to panic.

She knew he hadn’t forgotten their date. No way, not after last night. And if something else had come up requiring him to cancel or delay, he would have called her. That was just the kind of man he was. Which left only one possibility—an accident.