The Baby Track (17 page)

“I want you to stop worrying,” Connor interrupted. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “Everything you’re doing is what you should be doing, what you have to do. Stop tormenting yourself, baby.”

She desperately wanted to believe him. But of course, she couldn’t. “You don’t know the half of it,” she said ruefully. “There are circumstances—”

“This is supposed to be a celebration. We’re not going to talk about anything more serious than what’s on the menu tonight,” Connor cut in again. “And how glad I am to be sprung from the hospital.”

“But, Connor, I-”

He squeezed her hand. “Promise that you won’t address me in the first person plural, as in ‘How are
we
feeling today?’ and ‘Did
we
enjoy our meal?’ Hospital patient-speak is a hellacious language,” he added dryly.

“
Connor, I’m afraid that you—”

“They have fresh Virginia spots on the menu. What a welcome change from the hospital’s rubber chicken. Have you thought about an appetizer?”

She stared into his eyes. “You’re determined to keep me from-”

“Wailing and wringing your hands over a situation that’s beyond your control.” His gaze held hers. “Yes, Courtney, I’m determined to do that.”

And he did, successfully blocking every attempt she made to discuss their situation and his condition. Finally she gave up and gave into his wishes. They talked about the menu, about Sarah, about the news they’d watched on television, about his prowess at cards and hers at checkers, for she’d won that crucial third game. Connor demanded a rematch, then drew a ticktacktoe board on the back of the paper place mat and challenged her to a match.

When they finished dinner, he suggested a walk through town before heading back to Mrs. Mason’s house in the rental car that Wilson Nollier had procured for Courtney immediately following the accident. Holding hands, they strolled along the main street of Shadyside Falls, pausing to window-shop as they went. Connor was charming, funny and attentive, and Courtney couldn’t help responding to him.

It was as if he were courting her and she was very willing to be courted. As they walked together, talking and laughing and holding hands, Courtney gazed up at him and finally admitted the truth to herself: she was deeply in love with Connor McKay.

Nine

“The
little one wasn’t a bit of trouble,” Mrs. Mason assured them when they arrived back at the house an hour later. “She finished her bottle about forty minutes ago and went straight to sleep. Did you two enjoy your evening out?”

Connor smiled warmly at Courtney. “We had a great time.” He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Mrs. Mason. “I hope we didn’t keep you up too late.” “Not at all.” Mrs. Mason tucked the money into the pocket of her housedress. “I’m going to turn in now, but if you’d like to stay downstairs and use the kitchen or the living room, feel free.”

“Thanks, but we’ll call it a night, too.” Connor caught Courtney’s hand and headed toward the stairway.

Courtney’s heart jumped into her throat. Her knees were suddenly so weak and shaky it was hard to walk, let alone keep up with Connor’s swift pace.

Connor thought he was her husband, he believed they had a normal marriage, a good marriage. He had every intention of sharing the queen-sized bed in their room, and she could come up with no credible reason to tell him why he couldn’t.

The medical excuse she might have used had been demolished when Connor had left the hospital this afternoon. “There is no reason why you can’t resume sexual relations as soon as you want,” Dr. Standish had said matter-of-factly, while Courtney’s pulse had gone into overdrive. Now the doctor’s words replayed through her head.

No reason?
They weren’t married, was that reason enough?
Resume?
She was a virgin who had never experienced sexual relations in the first place.
As soon as you want?
Connor made it plain that he wanted, all right
.

But she wanted him just as badly, Courtney acknowledged as frissons of heat rippled through her. The sexual excitement or infatuation or whatever her initial feelings for him could be called had swiftly and irrevocably deepened. She was in love with him.

Thus, another complication was added to this already impossibly complicated situation. How did a woman keep the man she loved, the man whose touch she yearned for, out of her bed?

Did she even want to?

“Let’s check on the baby,” Connor suggested, leading her into the small room adjoining theirs. Sarah was sleeping peacefully on her stomach, her tiny arms resting above her head.

“She’s so beautiful, so precious,” Courtney whispered, standing beside the crib and gazing down at her. “She looks like a little angel, doesn’t she?”

“Our baby,” Connor murmured, his voice filled with awe. He and Courtney were going to raise this child together*. They would watch her grow from a helpless infant to a child to a young woman. She would learn to walk and to talk, to laugh and to love, to become a mature, compassionate adult who would someday have a family of her own, continuing the process that he and Courtney were beginning right now.

He felt immensely privileged to be a part of this transmission of life and love. A wave of sheer happiness surged through him, and he linked his arms around Courtney’s waist, resting his hands on the flat plain of her stomach. “I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he said huskily, nuzzling her neck.

Courtney intertwined her fingers with his and leaned into him, her heart overflowing with love for him. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Connor, if only—”

“None of that,” he interrupted softly. “We have each other and our beautiful baby. I don’t need my memory back to know how fortunate we are.”

Courtney released a shuddering sob and he tightened his hold on her. And then it happened. A flashback.

He’d had some in the hospital that he had mentioned to the doctors but had purposely kept from Courtney. There was no use raising her hopes, and oddly enough, the flashbacks had nothing to do with her; they were snippets from his childhood, from his college and law school years. He actually remembered his graduation from the University of Maryland Law School and his elation when he’d learned that he had passed the bar. There were no memories of how he had used his law degree or of his professional life, but the doctors had assured him all of that would return in time.

In the flash of memory he was experiencing now, he saw himself driving, he even heard which song was playing on the tape. His heart leapt. Was he going to remember the accident? He had listened to it described so often that he found himself anticipating the big brown car speeding through the red light.

But the only thing filling his mind was memories of himself feeling overwhelmed with anger and confusion.
A nice little family.
The words rang in his head, but the voice saying them was cynical and disparaging. Connor was appalled. That couldn’t have been him!

He glanced quickly from tiny Sarah sleeping in her crib to Courtney, who was trembling in his arms, her face buried in his chest hidden from his view. He loved them! He was so lucky to have them.

Yet he couldn’t shake off the memory of a detached and cynical Connor McKay who lived a superficial, self-involved life, who lived for the moment with no thought of the future, who wanted to enjoy the company of women but not a commitment to a woman.

Had that been him before he met and married Courtney? He didn’t let himself think that he had been that way as a husband, that he had been hostile and aloof. That he had cheated on her? Was it possible that their marriage was not the happy one he’d lived this past week?

He felt chilled to his very soul. “I love you, Courtney,” he said hoarsely, gazing down into her enormous dark eyes.

Courtney felt like crying. “Connor, right now you may think you do but—”

He placed his fingers over her lips. So he was right. There had been something wrong before the accident, something that made her doubt that he would be saying those words if it hadn’t occurred. “I know I do,” he said fiercely. “Courtney, the reality is
now
.
What’s past is past, and I’m beginning to think it’s best forgotten, after all. What’s real is what we have now—you and Sarah and me. Our family.”

The intensity of his words, of his hot green gaze, made her weak. Her love for him made her weak. She loved him and wanted him, she wanted to please him, to give and give to him, all of her and all her love. Courtney knew when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the baby’s room into their own, that she was going to make love with him.

Caution and control, those two safeguards with which she used to rule her life, to avoid risks, were poor substitutes for the fierce emotions surging through her. Weren’t there some risks worth taking?
The reality is now,
he’d said. And reality was loving him.

“Sweetheart, believe me,” Connor whispered. He set her on her feet beside the bed, his eyes holding hers.

“Oh, Connor, I—I do,” she breathed. She had to believe, she so desperately wanted it to be true.

His mouth closed over hers, hard and hungry, and Courtney’s lips parted on a soft moan. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, claiming the soft warmth with bold mastery. Courtney shuddered at the jolt of pleasure that streaked through her body and she arched into him, clinging to him, her senses reeling with the taste, the scent, the feel of him.

They kissed and kissed, hotly, deeply, until both were burning with a searing, primal urgency.

Sometime during those wild, tempestuous kisses, her blouse had become unbuttoned, but Courtney wasn’t aware of it until she felt Connor’s big hand cup her bare breast. She was soft and warm and lush, and his fingers fondled the satiny flesh, caressing and stroking until she was aching with a pleasure so fierce it almost bordered on pain. He moved his thumb over the taut bud of her nipple and a spasm of erotic electricity jolted through her.

“You’re so sensitive, so passionate and responsive,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re the sexiest, most desirable woman in the world, and you’re mine.”

He kissed her again, his mouth taking hers with ardent possession. Locked against the long, hard length of his body, she could feel the virile power of his arousal and instinctively rocked against him in an ageless feminine rhythm.

Slowly, he lowered her to the bed, and Courtney was vaguely aware of his hands slipping her blouse from her shoulders and easily discarding her bra as he pushed her back onto the mattress. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her breasts, his eyes filled with desire. And with love.

She forgot to be inhibited, she forgot that this was the first time that a man had ever seen her breasts. Any lingering fear or apprehension that might have been lurking within her was banished. She felt sensual and free, proud to be a woman who was loved and desired by her man.

Connor continued to kiss her, to caress her. He watched her pleasure, her passion build, and satisfaction surged through him. He wanted her to experience a rapture so compelling that the bond between them could never be shaken or broken; he wanted their lovemaking to erase whatever had separated them in the past and bind them together for always.

“I love you, Courtney.” His voice was as caressive as his hand, which glided over her stomach and slipped beneath her skirt.

Courtney sucked in her breath as she felt his fingers move seductively along her thighs. His hand smoothed lightly over her panty hose and she felt a shocking urge to feel those hard fingers of his against her bare skin. He kissed her again, his mouth hot and demanding, and she gave in to the voluptuous sensations flooding her. Nothing had ever felt so good—and so absolutely right.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, she stared up at him with love-filled eyes. She caressed his face, the strong line of his jaw and finally the sensual curve of his mouth with her fingertips. “I love you so much, Connor. I—I want you to always remember that, no matter what.”

They gazed at each other for a long, quiet moment. Connor felt something intangible yet very real vibrate between them and he realized that this was a profound moment in their relationship, one that neither would ever forget.

He wondered then about other moments, past moments, between them. They were in love and had been married for five years; therefore it stood to reason that they had shared many moments such as these. Then why did he have the strongest feeling that this was the first time they had ever come together this way, in a complete joining of mind, heart and body?

And then Courtney whispered his name and snuggled closer, touching her lips to his, and Connor could think of nothing except how much he wanted her. He took command of the kiss, deepening it, prolonging it, until they simultaneously drew apart, panting and breathless.

Courtney’s trembling fingers slipped underneath his shirt, which she had pulled from the waistband of his slacks. She stroked her palm against the hair-roughened warmth of his chest, the material of his shirt confining her, restricting her access. She made a small, frustrated groan.

“We have too many clothes on,” Connor said with a husky laugh. “Let’s remedy that.” He dispensed with her skirt and slip with a few deft movements. Next he skimmed her panty hose down with an expertise that gave Courtney nervous pause. He was very adept at undressing a woman.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Connor asked, and she realized that he had been watching her. “Those big gypsy eyes of yours are as round as saucers.” And then his eyes narrowed. Gypsy eyes. “Gypsy,” he said suddenly. “I used to call you that.”

She gulped and nodded. “Is—is your memory coming back?”

“I remember calling you Gypsy.” He kissed her lovingly, lingeringly. “I remember how much I love you, how much I want you. Only you, Courtney. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” Courtney promised fervently. She couldn’t. She would remember this beautiful moment forever, no matter what happened. “Connor, I—I’ll always remember—”