Tina Beckett - From Passion To Pregnancy

His head was reeling, still trying to blot out the more explicit images from that night. As drunk as he’d been, he should remember a whole lot less than he did.

“You still didn’t answer the question. Why did you leave?”

“Um—because I wanted to. I would just as soon forget it ever happened.”

Maybe he really had done something horrible at the end? Passed out on her? Thrown up? Been unable to perform?

No. He could remember each of those performances in stunning detail. Three encores, to be exact. And nothing horrific in any of those memories.

And could there be a more self-centered list of things to be worried about? He didn’t think so—except for one glaring issue.

“We used…” he forced himself to spit the word out, changing the term at the last second “…protection. So we’re covered, right?”

“You don’t remember?”

He wasn’t sure what she was asking. Merda! He did not want to be having this conversation.

“Yes, but we’d both had a lot to drink. I wanted to make sure.” And if that wasn’t the lamest excuse ever.

“We’re good. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

But he was, for some unfathomable reason. He tried to find the cause—decided to settle for the truth. “I wasn’t that thrilled that my sister was getting married.” He shrugged. “I never saw it coming, actually, and when she fell in love with my best friend, I was… Well, I acted like a jerk.”

“Do tell.” The dryness of the words made him laugh.

“Shocking, I know.”

Her dimple appeared again. “Not so much.”

He took a deep breath, the urge to reach up and touch her sliding through him. He forced it back. “I’m sorry I dragged you along on my little joy ride of misery. Believe it or not, I don’t normally drink. Or seduce wedding guests.”

Mainly because his father had done a lot of that. His parents had battled relentlessly all during his sister’s illness. He’d finally realized they didn’t love each other—his dad’s dalliances proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. They had simply been staying together for their children—more specifically for Natália, because of her illness. It was one reason Sebastian had basically sworn off marriage and children. What if it didn’t last? Would he follow his parents’ example and stay in a miserable marriage because of any offspring he might have? They’d already been expecting him when they’d got married. He knew that for a fact. Sebastian, like most children, was attuned to whether his parents loved and respected each other—or when they didn’t.

“You didn’t have to seduce me. I wanted to go. Even though, I’ve never…” her smile faded “…spent the night at a motel with someone I barely know.”

A few more curse words tumbled around in his head. Had she been a virgin?

Before he could ask, she shook her head. “No, not because of that. I just don’t normally go to motels. Especially not with a stranger.”

Neither did he.

They knew each other in a superficial way because of her father, but for all intents and purposes she was right.

“Hell, Sara, I’m sorry. I have no idea what—”

She stopped his words with a raised hand. “Don’t. It’s over and done with. Let’s just do our jobs and keep the past where it belongs—in the past.”

Much easier said than done. And if the flashes of memory kept replaying in his head every time they worked together?

Well, he would just do what she’d suggested and put it behind him. Except Sara was standing in front of him looking too beautiful for words. A shaft of sunlight ventured in through the open door and touched the hair over her left shoulder, infusing the strands with gold. The sight tugged at something inside him.

“You’re right. I’ll try not to mention it again. Or even think about it.” Those last words came out rough-edged, and he knew they were a lie. He’d already been thinking about it. And his body was torturing him with whether or not they might be able to do any of those things again.

No. They couldn’t.

“Neither will I.” Her voice was soft. Almost a whisper. As if she sensed the turmoil that was chewing up his gut and was answering it with some of her own.

Not good. Because his gaze slid to her lips. Came back up to her eyes, where he saw it. The slightest shimmer of heat beneath the cool brown irises.

“We’ll put it behind us.”

“Absolutely.”

“Starting right now.”

“Yes.” The tip of her tongue peeked out, moistening her lips before darting back in. He wanted to follow it. Find it.

No, this was not good. Only it had been. Far too good.

He gave a pained groan.

“Sara?” His palms came up and cupped her cheeks, relishing the cool softness of her skin against his.

“Yes.”

There was no question mark after that single word. No “Yes? What do you want?” It was more like she’d breathed, “Kiss me. It’s what we both want.”

It had been what they’d both wanted on that fateful night.

He wanted it to happen again, his body already responding to the stimuli of having her this close. And it was too much.

Tilting her face, he met her halfway, his mouth covering hers in a way that muttered, Home. Finally.

Even though it wasn’t. It was merely a stopping place.

But, damn, the burst of steam that zipped through his veins erased that notion in a split second. He suddenly didn’t care about stopping places or anything else. Instead, he shifted so that the angle was perfect.

And it was. Her lips were warm and giving and the tongue that had played peek-a-boo with his senses a second ago was back, coaxing him to sneak away with her, luring him just like those sirens of old. Without hesitation he ducked inside, finding heat and wetness that shoved his body further down a forbidden road, a growing pressure behind his zipper impossible to ignore.

Sara’s hands went behind his back and slid upward until they curved around his shoulders, her body coming into full contact with his.

Maybe she felt the same sudden urgency that he did.

It was only when one of his hands left her face to pull the door next to him shut, only to have it bounce off something with a loud clang, that he realized how far gone he was. How far gone they both were.

Their lips came apart at exactly the same time, Sara being the first to come to her senses, uncurling her arms and pushing at his chest.

He released her and tried to take a step back, but his butt hit the metal counter behind him, stopping him from retreating any further.

Her mouth was pink and moist, lips still parted as she drew in several breaths.

He glanced to the side to see what had happened with the door and realized the metal steps had stopped it from closing.

Graças a Deus. Because otherwise…

What exactly would he have done? Tossed her onto that counter and made love to her? In the hospital parking garage?

What the hell had he been thinking?

He hadn’t been. That was the problem. Just like the night of the wedding. He’d been operating off pure lust.

Gripping that very same metal counter, he tried to get his bearings. Saying he was sorry was going to be met with angry words. But what else could he do?

“I take it that wasn’t what you meant by ‘putting this behind us’.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

“Not exactly. No.”

“So what do we do? I worked hard to get this estágio, and I’m not going to let a little thing like this make me run home with my tail tucked between my legs.”

A little thing like this? This was pretty damn huge in his book. He never mixed work with personal stuff. Ever. It was just the shock of being alone with her again. But it stopped right here.