softened as he spoke, his lips no longer flattened into a hard line. “I’m the same man you proposed to three years ago.”
“Are you?” Apparently his memory of that proposal was different from hers. “Then you’re the same man who didn’t want kids, ever. Who said your life as a mission doctor was not just what you did but who you were, and children didn’t fit into that life. Well, I have a child so you’re obviously not the right husband for me.”
His expression hardened again, his jaw jutting mulishly. “Except your child is my child, which changes things. I’m willing to compromise. To adjust my schedule to be with the two of you in the States part of the year.”
“Well, that’s big of you. Except I have commitments to work outside the States, too.” For a man with amazing empathy for his patients, he could be incredibly dense and self-absorbed. “We should just sit down, look at our schedules for after the eight months I’m here and see if we can often work near enough to one another that you can see Drew when you have time off.”
“I will not have my son living with the kinds of dangers Africa and other places expose him to.”
“You grew up living all over the world and you turned out just fine.” More than fine. From the moment she’d met him she’d known he was different. Compassionate and giving. Funny and irreverent. Book smart and street smart.
The most fascinating man she’d ever known.
The unyielding intensity in his eyes clouded for a moment before he flicked her a look filled with cool determination. “I repeat—my son needs to grow up safe in the States until he’s older. Getting married is the most logical course of action. We figure out how to make our medical careers work with you anchored in the U.S. and me working there part of the year. Then we bring him on missions when he’s an older teen.”
“Well, now you’ve touched on my heart’s desire. A marriage founded on a logical course of action.” She laughed in sheer disbelief and to hide the tiny bruising of hurt she should no longer feel. “You’ve got it all figured out, and you haven’t even spent one minute with him. Or with me. So, I repeat—I’m not marrying you.”
Frustration and anger narrowed his gaze before he turned and strode a short distance away to stare at the dark outline of the horizon, fisting his hands at his hips, his broad shoulders stiff. In spite of the tension simmering between them, she found herself riveted by the sight of his tall, strong body silhouetted in the twilight. The body she’d always thought looked like it should belong to a star athlete, not a doctor.
She tried to shake off the vivid memories that bombarded her, including how much she’d loved touching all those hard muscles covered in smooth skin. All the memories of how crazy she’d been about him, period. Three light-hearted years ago the differences they now faced hadn’t existed. Serious differences in how Andrew should be raised, and she still had no proof that Chase wouldn’t be as resentful in his reluctant role as father as her own parent had been.
Now that Chase would be involved in Andrew’s life, she had to make sure her son never felt the barbed sting of being unwanted.
Tearing her gaze from his stiff and motionless form, she turned to find Andrew and get him settled in. Chase must have heard her movement as he suddenly spun and strode purposefully towards her.
The fierce intensity in his dark eyes sent an alarm clanging in her brain. What was coming next she didn’t know, but her instincts warned her to get ready for it. He closed the inches between them and grasped her waist in his strong hands, tugging her tightly against his hard body.
A squeak of surprise popped from her lips as the breath squeezed from her lungs.
This she was definitely not ready for.
His thick, dark lashes were half-lowered over his brown eyes, and her heart pounded at the way he looked at her. With determined purpose and simmering passion.
“I remember a little about your heart and your desire.” His warm breath feathered across her mouth. “I remember how good it was between us. How good it can be again.”
She pressed her hands against his firm chest but didn’t manage to put an inch between them. Her heart thumped with both alarm and ridiculous excitement. “It’s been three years. Too long to just take up where we left off.”
“Not so long that I don’t remember where you like to be kissed.”
Surprise turned to shock when he lowered his head to touch his lips to the sensitive spot beneath her earlobe, slowly sliding them to the hollow of her throat, his voice vibrating against her skin. “How you like to be kissed.”
“Chase, stop.” A delicious shiver snaked its way down her body before he lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “We—”
His mouth dropped to hers and, despite the part of her brain protesting that a kiss between them just complicated things, her eyes slid closed. The soft warmth of his lips sent her spiraling back to all the times they’d sneaked kisses between patients, celebrating successful outcomes, or held each other in wordless comfort when a patient had been lost. To all the times they’d tramped in the mountains and made love anywhere that had seemed inviting.
Apparently, her hands had their own memories, slipping up his chest to cup the back of his neck, his soft hair tickling her fingers. He’s right. The vague thought flitted through her head as his wide palm slid between her shoulder blades, pressing her body closer as he deepened the kiss. It had been very, very good between them. Until it hadn’t been.
Through her sensual fog the thought helped her remember what a strategic man Chase could be. That this wasn’t unchecked, remembered passion but a calculated effort to weaken her resolve, to have her give in to his marriage demand.
She broke the kiss. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Yes, it is.” His warm mouth caressed her jaw. “I’ve missed you. I think you’ve missed me, too.”
“Why would I miss being dragged out of bed to do calisthenics at six a.m.?” The words came out annoyingly breathy.
“But you missed being dragged into bed for another kind of exercise.”
His mouth again covered hers, sweet and insistent and drugging. One hand slipped down her hip and cupped her bottom, pulling her close against his hardened body.
He’d always teased her about how she couldn’t resist his touch, his kiss. A pathetically hungry little sound filled her throat as she sank in deeper, doing a very good job proving he’d been right.
But that was before, her sanity whispered.
Yanking her mouth determinedly from his, she dragged in a deep, quivering breath. “This won’t work. I know your devious strategies too well.”
His lips curved and his dark eyes sparked with liquid gold. “I think you’re wrong. I think it’s working.” He lifted one hand to press his fingers to her throat. “Your pulse is tachycardic and your breath is all choppy. Both clear indications of sexual desire.”
“Thanks for the physiology lesson.” She shoved hard at his chest to put a few inches between them and felt his own heart pounding beneath her hands. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. “But memories of good sex do not make a relationship. And definitely not
