Another Dawn (30 page)

      
Because running away from Luke would deny her heart.

      
She stopped and waited, swallowing the lump in her throat as he came closer and closer. The water surrounding her seemed to warm with his approach, as did she.

      
Her breasts grew heavy and her feminine core clenched into a coil of longing.

      
"I want you," he whispered again, pausing less than a foot away.

      
Sofie trembled and banished the voice at the back of her mind that tried to convince her this was wrong. What could be wrong with something she wanted this desperately?

      
How could love be wrong?

      
"I want you, too," she said, her voice quivering as she waited. And wanted.

      
One step. That's all it took to bring him so close her nipples grazed the crisp dark hair on his chest. Something warm and hard brushed against her hip, sending her libido into overdrive.

      
"Oh, yes," she whispered, dismissing all doubt as he moved closer still.

      
"Sofie. My beautiful Sofie."

      
His breath fanned her face and she moaned, her lips parting to breathe in his essence. She couldn't wait any longer, and as she brought her hand up to caress his face, his palm cupped the fullness of her breast, lifting it from the water.

      
"Perfect."
 
He brushed his thumb across her damp nipple, sending her spiraling higher. Then he lowered his face toward hers, his full lips seeking and taking hers in a kiss so exquisite, she thought she might die from the want of more.

      
Much more.

      
He placed his hands at her waist and lifted her up and against him. Sofie gasped at the intimate contact, but craved it even more than she feared it.

      
His hard, pulsing maleness pressed against her tender woman's flesh. Hungry for all of him, she wrapped her legs around his waist, but he held her so his erection merely teased her.

      
Sofie gasped as his lips left hers to kiss her throat and the curve of her shoulder. He lifted her higher and kissed the hollow between her breasts.

      
"Sweet," he murmured. Tenderly, he brought his mouth to the peak of her breast, taking her with a savage gentleness that sent rivulets of desire cascading through her shocked and pliant body. She moaned, looking down between them to watch his tanned face against her milky-white breast.

      
The sight of Luke's mouth devouring her was shocking at first, but as her pleasure mounted, Sofie found it...erotic. She locked her hands behind his neck, holding him against her, relishing every tug of his lips and brush of his tongue.

      
She ached and throbbed, beyond ready for him to fill her so completely, she'd never want again. Though it seemed impossible that she'd never want him again after this.

      
"Now, Luke," she whispered. "Now."

      
A noise dragged Sofie from her exquisite dream.
No, not yet,
she pleaded, but the sound came again and her dream vanished as she opened her eyes.

      
Startled, she looked around the room. Mrs. Fleming and Dora were gone, but the fire still crackled merrily. A grandfather clock ticked steadily from across the room, but not loudly enough to have disturbed her sleep.

      
And destroyed her beautiful dream.

      
Guilt rushed through her as she recalled that dream with a rush of fire to her cheeks...and lower regions.
Talk about sexual frustration.

      
Then she again heard the sound that must have awakened her–a man clearing his throat. Warily, Sofie shifted her gaze. Her skin prickled before she saw him, knowing she was being watched.

      
By her dream lover.

      
Luke didn't want to wake her, but watching and hearing her dream was driving him nuts. Her parted lips, flushed cheeks, and occasional moans made him wonder if she was dreaming about sex. Did women have wet dreams?
 

      
He cleared his throat loudly, and she whispered, "Now, Luke. Now."

      
Oh, God
. A bolt of lightning struck right between his legs. Whatever she was dreaming, he wished he could join her. Was he the Luke in her dream?
Oh, God.

      
He cleared his throat again, and her eyes fluttered open. Silently, he watched her look around the room, until her gaze came to rest on him, seated at Reverend Bodine's desk. She blinked several times and her cheeks turned even redder than before.

      
Yes, of course he'd been the Luke in her dream. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to control the insistent thrum through his veins. Every beat of his heart seemed to shout, "Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex!"

      
He drew another deep breath, shifting his weight in the appropriately hard, wooden chair. The settee looked one hell of a lot more comfortable, but that was too close to Sofie.

      
Yet not close enough.

      
"Now, Luke?" he repeated, grinning. He simply couldn't resist the impulse to tease. She looked away, making him immediately regret his words. Just because he was hornier than a mutt after a French poodle in heat didn't mean he had to take it out on Sofie. "I'm sorry."

      
She looked at him again and he saw tears glistening in the depths of her gorgeous blue eyes. How he ached to kiss away her tears, and to fulfill her every dream. Adjusting himself inside his jeans–discreetly, he hoped–Luke went to the ottoman in front of her rocker and straddled it.

      
Big mistake.

      
Wincing, he swung both legs in front of him and leaned toward her, taking her hand. Sofie's skin was so soft. He traced a line from her palm to her wrist, then he looked up to meet her gaze.

      
Her cheeks still flushed, her breath shallow, she stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. Scaring her was the last thing he wanted to do, but if she felt for him a fraction of what he felt for her, they were both in big trouble.

      
"Did...did everybody leave?" she asked, her voice shaky.

      
Luke nodded. "They didn't want to wake you, and it's awfully late."

      
"The shooting."
 
Sofie sat up straighter and gripped his hand. "What happened? Was anybody hurt?"

      
"No, everything's fine now."
 
He looked at their hands joined on the arm of the chair, their fingers intertwined.

      
Intimately.

      
If only it were their legs.

      
Holy shit
. He bolted off the ottoman and walked toward the fire. The flames danced and crackled, their warmth seeping through his bones. He drew a deep breath and looked upward at the ceiling.

      
Something had to give soon. He couldn't take much more of this pretense. And tomorrow, to top it all off, he had to marry two people he respected and cared about.

      
Illegally.

      
Dr. Wilson and Mrs. Fleming would live in sin, but they wouldn't realize it. Did that make it all right? Not really, but at least they'd be together, and that made it sort of all right.

      
Luke straightened and turned to face Sofie again. He wanted desperately to confide in her, to tell her he wasn't a priest, and that he wanted nothing more than to take her to bed and make mad, passionate love to her.

      
All night. Every night.

      
His gut clenched and burned. It was the
every
night part that worried him most. All night was perfectly understandable, after all, but every night was dangerous as hell.

      
Terrifying.

      
She rose from the chair and took a tentative step toward him, her heart shining in her eyes.

      
Oh, God. She wanted every night, too. At least he knew he wasn't a priest, but she didn't. Having the hots for a supposed priest must be giving her a mountain of guilt.

      
He could tell her the truth, then he could jump her bones and–

      
Man, what was he thinking? Here he'd spent weeks masquerading as a priest to protect his identity from the only person who could ever reveal his past, and now he was ready to throw it all away for...
 

      
His gaze drifted down the slender column of her throat, where the loose-fitting, borrowed dress gaped open at the collar. Remembering the night he'd watched her through the window at the schoolhouse, Luke's mouth went dry. She had the most beautiful breasts. Even lying flat on her back that night, they'd been full and round. Tempting.

      
And that tattoo... What he wouldn't give to kiss her butterfly.

      
Kiss her butterfly
? You're losing it, Nolan.

      
She paused a few feet away and stared at him, her lips parted enticingly, her hair curling wildly around her small face. The love he saw in her eyes stole his breath, even more shattering than the desire he'd seen earlier.

      
Sofie was falling in love with him, and his feelings for her could very well be–

      
No
.
 

      
"I had a dream," she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her. "A very...vivid dream."

      
Oh, God
. He was as good as nuked. "A dream?" Though he shouldn't ask, he wanted to hear every delicious detail. Then he'd march upstairs and throw himself out a second story window. All right, so he wouldn't do that, but he had to do something to relieve this sexual frustration.

      
"Um-hmm."
 
Her voice fell to a husky whisper, inciting hormonal Armageddon in Luke's body.

      
"Do you," he cleared his throat, "want to tell me about your dream, Sofie?"
 

      
She nodded and the pain that stabbed through Luke might as well have been a sword cleaving him in two. "Tell me," he urged, knowing he should run upstairs, but he couldn't. "Confession is good for the soul."
 
Bad boy.

      
"I was swimming," she said, taking another step toward him. "Skinny-dipping."

      
Oh, shit. Oh, damn. Oh, man
. Luke shouldn't encourage her to share this dream, but he wasn't about to stop her at this point. "I see," he said, his voice cracking.

      
She tilted her head back and a small smile curved her lips. "Yes, it was a...a naughty dream, I suppose."

      
"We all have those."
 
Luke wanted to share her naughty dream more than anything he'd
ever
wanted. Even more than he'd wanted that toy train for Christmas.

      
Even more than he wanted his freedom?

      
There was no reason he couldn't have both, to a certain extent. No reason he couldn't fantasize about the impossible. "I'm listening," he whispered, clenching his fists to resist the urge to touch her again.

      
She gave a nervous laugh and looked away for a moment, then met his gaze again. "I wasn't alone in my dream," she confessed, biting her lower lip. "Like I said, it was naughty.
I
was naughty."

      
"Not alone?" Luke repeated, struggling for a deep breath. He needed to move away from the fire, though the fire in his groin would follow him. "Who...?"