Fools Rush In (14 page)

"I don't doubt that those men thought they were shooting at Elise, but that doesn't mean Sam sent them. They could have found out that she got on a bus for San Francisco the same way we did. Besides, I know Sam. There's not a crooked bone in his body, and he hates violence."

Erin's brows rose, and Max shrugged at her skeptical look. "Oh, it's true that under certain circumstances, when someone he cares about is threatened or you push him too far, he can be lethal. I know I wouldn't want him for an enemy. But he's incapable of cold-bloodedly hurting anyone. Especially someone as soft and gentle as Elise."

"Sam?" Erin shook her head as though she hadn't heard him correctly, her expression incredulous. "Are you talking about the same Sam Lawford? The one with the icy gray eyes and the warmth and charm of a meat locker?"

Max cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing.

Erin could have kicked herself. Hadn't she already learned that Max didn't take kindly to criticism of his friend? Lord! When would she ever learn to curb her tongue?

She braced herself for his anger, but when he spoke his voice was soft and touched with sadness.

"So that's the problem, is it? You're reacting only to what you see."

"Are you saying there's more?"

Max walked to the window. For a moment he rubbed the back of his neck and stared out at the evening traffic. When he turned back to face her his expression was grim. "I have to believe that there is," he said with a quiet intensity that bordered on desperation. "That somewhere underneath that cold shell is the friend I grew up with. That Sam was nothing at all like the man you met. He was friendly and outgoing, warm. In those days everybody liked Sam—parents, teachers, classmates—and he liked everybody, especially kids and dogs. He'd even planned to become a pediatrician someday."

A faraway look came into Max's eye, and as he stared across the room a sad, wistful smile touched his mouth. Erin could see that he was lost in memories. She watched him, touched by his devotion to his friend, and though she fought to hold on to it, her distrust of Sam began to fade. If the man could inspire that kind of loyalty, surely he couldn't be evil or totally unfeeling.

"What happened?" Erin prodded gently when the silence lengthened.

Max pulled out of his trance and flashed her a sharp look. "Vietnam." He spat the word out, his voice cold, bitter. "Rather than waiting around to be drafted, we enlisted together, right out of college, two young heroes full of vinegar and idealism. Of course, Sam could have gotten a deferment had he entered medical school as he'd planned, but we'd always stuck together, so when I decided to enlist, he signed up, too.

"After basic training we got split up, though we were both shipped to Nam. I survived it without a scratch, but five months after he arrived, Sam was taken prisoner by the Vietcong. He spent the next four years as a prisoner of war."

Erin's heart ached for Max. Though his voice remained impassive, she heard the pain beneath the words and knew that he blamed himself. She wanted to go to him and put her arms around him, to hold him close and soothe away all the anguish, to assure him that it wasn't his fault. She forced herself to remain where she was, sensing that nothing she could say would convince him.

"No one knows exactly what happened to him during those years. Sam won't talk about it. But whatever it was, it must have been horrible, because he came back a changed man. The old open, easygoing Sam just seemed to have vanished behind that wall of reserve. He's not hostile or unfriendly, mind you. Just... remote."

"Even with you?"

"To a degree. The friendship gets me past some of the barriers, but even so, he lets me get just so close and no closer. It's as though he's drawn an invisible line around himself, and no one is allowed to cross it." He paused. "It's not surprising, I suppose. God knows what horrors he lived through. Then he came home to find that his parents had died and the girl he loved had married someone else."

"Oh, Max. That's awful."

"Yes. It was," he agreed. "Sam took it stoically. It was as though that sort of thing was all he expected of life. I assumed that once he'd had time to grieve and adjust to being back he would go on to medical school as he'd planned, but when I asked him about it he just said that that was yesterday's dream and refused to discuss it further. Instead he took all his back service pay and invested it in the company I had just started. At the time I was in need of capital, but even if I hadn't been, I would have taken him on as a partner. He needed a purpose, something to focus on. He also needed to know that there was someone in his life who would stand by him, no matter what."

The look Max gave Erin was filled with entreaty, a silent plea for understanding. "I don't believe for a moment that Sam would betray my friendship or my trust. Outwardly he may have changed, but not inside. Not where it really counts."

I hope so. Oh, Lord, I hope so,
Erin thought.
For all our sakes.

She stared at Max, her throat aching with emotion. His explanation had filled her with a melting warmth and added a new dimension to her feelings for him. Max Delany, she was just beginning to realize, was a very nice, very special man.

She had been attracted to him physically since the instant they met; he was, after all, handsome and charming, and he positively oozed sexual magnetism. And in the past twenty-four hours she'd learned that he was also dependable and clever, a good man to have in your corner. But it was his loyalty, his capacity for caring that touched her the most.

Max was secure and comfortable within himself, man enough to give rein to his finer feelings. His sensitivity, compassion and steadfastness, far from making him appear weak, were traits that enhanced his masculinity and strength and stirred Erin to the depths of her soul.

She had an uneasy feeling that the discovery would be her undoing. Physical attraction she could resist. And though it was nice to have a protector, someone to lean on, Erin was an independent woman, capable of taking care of herself. But this glimpse of Max's vulnerable side, of the feeling, giving inner man, tugged at her heartstrings and drew her to him in a way that could not be ignored.

As she stared at him, she felt her heart thumping painfully, and lodged beneath her breastbone was a burning knot of emotion.

If only she could be as sure of Sam's innocence as Max was. She felt compassion for Sam, and pity when she thought of all he'd suffered, all he'd lost. She even felt a certain amount of guilt for the snap judgments she'd made about him. But absolute faith? No. No, she couldn't quite manage that. Who knew what shadows those four years had etched on the man's soul?

But Max trusted him. Max needed to trust him, and for his sake she at least had to give Sam the benefit of the doubt.

"You're probably right," she agreed with a gentle smile. "Don't pay any attention to my ravings. I'm just frightened and on edge and reacting emotionally. And anyway. .. you know Sam better than I."

Max grasped her shoulders and gazed down at her. "Thanks, Erin," he said softly, and she knew that he was aware of her doubts and understood them.

He tugged her closer. She could have resisted—his gentle hold gave her that option—but she went into his embrace willingly, sliding her arms around his lean middle and laying her head against his chest with a soft sigh. At that moment she needed his touch, the warmth of human contact, to give and receive solace and comfort.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, rubbing his cheek against her head as he rocked from side to side. "Thank you, darling, for understanding."

"You're welcome," Erin murmured. She snuggled against him and gave herself up to the sweet, undemanding pleasure of his embrace. In the haven of his arms she could forget, for a moment, the problems and dangers that awaited them and simply savor the closeness and unspoken feelings that flowed between them. The tension and fear that had kept her wound tight for hours began to drain away as Erin's senses absorbed the essence of Max.

Her palms were pressed flat against his back, and through the thin shirt she could feel the firm, broad muscles that banded his shoulders, the resilience and warmth of his flesh. His body was lean and tough and reassuringly strong. The clean aroma of soap clung to his skin, and mingled with it was his own unique male scent. His cotton shirt had that peculiar new smell and felt scratchy against her cheek as she unconsciously rubbed her face against it. Beneath her ear his heart beat with a slow, heavy thud.

It felt so good, so right, to be held in his arms. He was so deliciously, enticingly male that the urge to taste him was irresistible. Without thought, Erin turned her head and pressed her mouth to his throat. With a soft sound of pleasure, she drew deeply of his scent and touched the tip of her tongue to his skin.

Max inhaled sharply, then moaned. Pulling back, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted it. Desire stamped his features, and his blue eyes were blazing, yet when he spoke his voice was soft and adoring. "In case I neglected to tell you, you're a special lady, Erin Blaine."

He held her gaze. Mesmerized, Erin watched him as he lowered his head, her eyes growing heavy lidded and smoky. Unconsciously she licked her lips, and his breath struck the moist flesh in warm puffs as he whispered, "A very... special... lady."

With excruciating slowness, his mouth settled over hers. Soft. Open. Hot. His lips brushed back and forth, back and forth, the merest touch of flesh upon flesh, but the slight contact sent desire shivering through her.

Max's hand smoothed over her back, his fingertips sensuously rubbing each tiny knob in her spine. His tongue probed the corners of her mouth. With a little moan, Erin pressed closer and slid her arms up over his shoulders, her hands spearing into the thick hair at his collar.

She pulled his lips more firmly against hers, and Max made a rumbling sound of pleasure deep in his throat. Obeying her silent command, he deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into the wet warmth of her mouth with sure, bold strokes. He drank of her sweetness like a man dying of thirst, his lips rocking over hers. His tongue glided over the roof of her mouth, tested the slickness of her inner cheek, the serrated edge of her teeth, then withdrew... plunged again... withdrew. In. Out. In. Out.

His hands grasped her hips and moved her against him, matching the undulating rhythm.

Erin was a shimmering flame. Her nipples pressed against Max's chest, tight and turgid, aching. Her blood ran hot and searing through her veins to settle and throb in that secret feminine core.

This is crazy and reckless
, she thought vaguely.
Dangerous. You're playing with fire, you fool. It's time to call a halt.

And I will. I will,
she told herself, even as her fingers clutched his broad back and kneaded restlessly.
In just a minute.

Oh, Lord, if only she had remained aloof! If only she hadn't let him touch her emotions. The physical attraction between them was strong, but she could have controlled that. But this—this was something more. Much more.

Slowly Max ended the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at her. Erin, still lost in the throes of passion, remained as she was, her head thrown back, lips parted and wet, eyes closed. A flush tinted her skin, and her breathing was labored.

Max smiled and touched her cheek with fingers that weren't quite steady.

"Oh, sweetheart, what you do to me. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer." He pulled one of her hands from around him and placed it on his chest. "Here, feel it."

Erin's lids lifted, and she gazed at him with feverish eyes. "So is mine," she said, giving him a weak smile.

"Good." His look held a blatant satisfaction that made her flush deepen. "We don't have to drive to Bakersfield tonight, you know," he said in a rough voice, glancing beyond her at the rumpled bed. "We could stay here and get an early start in the morning."

Erin stared back at him and swallowed hard. The very air around them crackled with sensual tension, making it difficult to breathe. Implicit in his words, in his blazing eyes was the unspoken promise that if they stayed, they would become lovers.

Erin was tempted. Oh, yes, she was tempted. She would have been lying to herself if she had tried to deny it. Intellectually, physically and emotionally, Max appealed to her on every level, as no other man ever had, not even Andre. Her heart longed for his love, and her body burned with need, but she knew she dared not satisfy either. Elise was in love with this man, and no matter what her own feelings were, she could not ignore that.

With great effort, Erin pulled out of his arms and took a step backward. Her body still throbbed with desire, and she knew that Max felt the same aching need. She gazed at him regretfully, her wan smile touched with sadness as she shook her head. "No, Max, we can't."

She didn't elaborate, but the look of grim acceptance that settled over his face told her that he knew her reason. Yes, she thought, feeling a painful little stab in her chest. Max would understand loyalty.

"No, I suppose you're right. We'd better be on our way if we're going to pick up Elise's trail before it gets cold."

"Yes. Yes, we'd better," Erin agreed. It wasn't precisely the reason for her refusal, and they both knew it, but she grabbed at the tactfully offered alternative. Whether he had given her the out because he knew that she wasn't ready to cope with the feelings growing between them, or because he feared what her reaction would be if he pushed too hard, she didn't know, but she was grateful for his sensitivity.