the rhythm they had mastered so long ago, their bodies so perfectly in sync it was almost as if they were one person.
Across the room, in the mirror above his chest of drawers, she could see their reflection. She lay beneath him, her legs hooked tightly around his hips, his muscular backside flexing with every thrust. It was the hottest, most arousing thing she had ever seen, and her muscles instantly began to coil and tighten. He must have felt it, too. He groaned and tunneled his fingers through her hair, kissed her hard as she reached a crest of pleasure that left her weak and breathless.
Moaning as her muscles gripped and pulsed around him, Roman was only seconds behind her. He picked up speed and pressed his forehead to hers, eyes squeezing shut as every muscle in his body tensed. “Gracie,” he moaned as he climaxed, holding her so close and so tight she could almost feel the pleasure coursing through him.
Shuddering and gasping for air, they lay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies still intimately joined. And though she tried to fight it, feelings of affection threatened to overwhelm her.
This was just good sex, she told herself. No, not good sex. Fantastic sex. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, out-of-this-universe sex.
But still just sex.
Then he lifted his head and looked deep in her eyes, teased the tip of her nose with his own and smiled, and her insides went all gooey again. But not gooey enough to say or do something she would later regret.
She was a woman who kept her heart carefully guarded and locked up tight. He used to have the key, but it would do him no good. It had taken so long for her broken heart to repair itself that the lock had rusted shut. And she refused to let anyone, especially him, break it again.
Besides, even if she wanted it to be more, even if she could someday forgive and trust him again, her family never would. Sure, he was charming and funny and great in bed, but he had given her no reason to trust him. And far too many reasons not to.
Grace stood with her sisters amidst the crowd at the construction site of the new children’s hospital, shivering under her cashmere coat. The reception for donors was set to begin in just a few minutes and she had serious mixed feelings about being there. After all, the Newport brothers were naming the hospital after Cynthia Newport. The woman with whom her father had had an affair and an illegitimate child. But Carson was her half-brother, and Eve was engaged to his brother Graham, so how could she not be there for them? The project was being funded almost entirely by the Newports.
She turned to scan the crowd to see many familiar faces. Nash Chamberlain and his wife, Gina. And of course Georgia and Carson. Even Dr. Lucinda Walsh and Josh Calhoun were in town. Brilliant cancer specialist that Lucinda was, Gracie and her sisters had hoped that she would remain their father’s caretaker for the duration of his illness, but her love for Josh had taken her from Chicago to his dairy farm in Iowa, where, Gracie had heard, she was taking over the oncology department at a local hospital. Josh, with his long hair, rugged good looks and cowboy hat, was a quintessential cowboy.
“Of course they had to pick the coldest day of the year for this,” Nora said, pulling her collar up against the bitter cold wind that poured in through openings that would soon be windows. “The windchill has to be ten below zero.”
Eve pulled out her phone and checked. “Close, fifteen degrees.”
“I feel warmer already,” she joked.
“Have you talked to Mom?” Nora asked Eve.
Eve frowned and shook her head. Despite their parents’ divorce, and their father’s very public reputation for womanizing, the news that he had fathered a child with Cynthia Newport had hit their mother, Celeste, pretty hard. It had also been difficult for her to accept that Eve was in love with Graham, and that her grandchild would have the Newport name.
“She’ll come around,” Nora said, wrapping her arm around Eve’s waist and giving her a squeeze.
“I know,” Eve said, clearly holding back tears. “It still hurts, though.”
Of the three sisters Eve was by far the toughest of the bunch, but Gracie had the feeling her hormones were out of whack from her pregnancy and making her weepy.
“I’m sorry,” Nora said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It will all work out,” Eve said, but not with her usual confidence. “It will just take time.”
There was a moment of silence, then Nora asked Gracie, “So how did the fund-raiser go Friday? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but the wedding plans have me chasing my own tail.”
“It was great,” she told her sister, but it was the memory of Saturday that was making her feel all warm and toasty under her coat.
Nora frowned. “That’s it? Just great? No juicy gossip to share?”
“Honestly the whole night is kind of a blur.” She glanced over at Eve, who was looking straight ahead with a wry smile on her face. Had she said something to Nora about Gracie being there with Roman? And the fact that she’d gotten drunk.
If she had, or if someone else had mentioned it, Nora didn’t let on.
“Did you meet your fund-raising goal?” Nora asked her, and Gracie wished she would just let it go.
“I haven’t talked to Dax yet, so I’m not sure.”
Nora looked at her funny. “I thought you would be all over it Saturday.”
She’d been all over something, but it wasn’t fund-raising.
“It’s a busy time for me at work,” she said, hoping Nora would drop the subject. She didn’t want to think about the fund-raiser or work or anything else. She didn’t even want to be here today. Where she wanted to be was back in bed with Roman. And at the same time, the reality of how quickly and effortlessly they had reconnected scared the hell out of her. This was not a good idea, this thing they had started. It had never been her intention to sleep with him. Not that it wasn’t some of the best sex she’d ever had in her life. But they had crossed a line, and she was afraid that she would never be able to cross back over it to where she was before. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to go back, and that was probably the scariest thing of all.
She wanted to trust him, and believe that he had nothing to do with the recent smear campaign targeting her father, but that didn’t erase what had happened seven years ago. He had taken responsibility for his mistake, and his time in the service went a long way to prove his character. She wished she could just let it go, but it still lingered there somewhere in the back of her mind. She wasn’t sure if that residual little sliver of doubt would ever completely go away. And that lack of trust would eventually become their undoing.
Or maybe she would get over it and they would live happily ever after. If that was even what he wanted. Or what she wanted. Was she obsessing over something that he might not even want? Was she assuming things that had no basis in reality?
It was all so confusing.
“Well, if it isn’t the Winchester girls,” someone said from behind them and they turned to see Brooks Newport, smug as usual, walking
