"Daddy?" Joey muttered, somehow aware that his world was back in order.

"Daddy's right here," Joseph said. "I'm going to lay you down in your little bed, okay? Right next to Thumper."

Joey sniffed, sucked, and pulled his stuffed rabbit beneath his belly as his father laid him down.

It didn't take Joseph long to remove Joey's shoes and cover him lightly with a blanket. For a long, long moment, he stood over his son's bed and stared, thinking that no matter how fiercely one loved, it did not protect those in question from harm.

He swallowed harshly, unwilling to admit, even to himself, how panicked he'd been, or how thankful he was that Molly was in their lives. In that instant, he realized that he'd done something he swore he'd never do again. He'd become dependent on a woman. He didn't know whether to curse himself or thank G.o.d that he was beginning to heal.

Satisfied that his son had survived the incident just fine without him, he gave him a last, lingering look, lightly touched his forehead, and then walked out of the room, shutting the door just enough to keep out any sudden noises.

When he walked back across the hall, Molly was gone. Frowning, he pivoted and hurried toward the living room.

He caught her at the front door. "Molly...sweetheart...where are you going?"

The hurt in his eyes made her sorry, but she'd been too aware of what he'd been thinking when she'd awakened to see him at the side of the bed, touching first his son, and then her, all the while blinking back tears. The accident had amplified the feelings simmering between them.

She shrugged, and tried to smile. "I'm wet, and you're here. You don't need me anymore."

"No!" He pulled her into a rough, shaky embrace. "That's where you're wrong, Molly. I do need you. You'll never know how much." He felt her struggle briefly within his arms, and held her a little tighter. "Don't turn away from me," he begged. "You hold my son...why in G.o.d's name won't you hold me?"

The pain in his voice was her undoing. She ceased her struggles, then sighed in defeat. And when he wrapped his arms around her waist, she tilted her chin and stared him straight in the face.

"Because I'm afraid you'll let me go," she said softly.

Joseph forgot to breathe. There was so much old pain in what she'd admitted that he feared anything he said would be wrong.

"Willingly?...Never," he said.

As his hands slid down her back, pulling her hips tighter against him, moving them together to test for fit, she shuddered. The fit was perfect.

"Molly?" The question was there, awaiting her answer.

"I'm awfully wet," she warned.

"Then take off your clothes."

Six.

Molly held her breath. There was more than need in Joseph Rossi's eyes. She saw trust, and promises-and she saw love. It was-for her-enough.

"I don't think I can," she said. "I'm shaking."

"G.o.d help me, so am I," Joseph said, and lifted her off her feet, urging her closer until she could do nothing but hold on.

With nothing but the wall at her back to hold her up, Molly gave herself to the man in her arms, allowing her body to grow accustomed to the changing shape of his. Her legs trembled, but her heart was strong. She wanted to belong to this man more than she'd wanted anything in her life.

His mouth slid across her neck and then up, sampling the texture of her skin and lips with gentle but increasing pressure. And then he fitted his mouth to hers with perfect precision and took what she offered. Breath shortened, lungs ached, hands shook, and need grew.

"Molly..." The tortured whisper came quickly as he pressed himself harder against the cradle of her body.

She gasped as his hands slid down between them, cupping her and then moving in a gentle, persuasive motion. And when he set her back on her feet and then cupped her hips, pulling her closer to him, she begged for more. Willingly, he complied as his body replaced his hands. She moved closer, trying to pull him into the pain he'd created.

"Oh Molly," Joseph whispered. "I need to get you into my bed. I don't think I can wait much..."

"Don't," she begged.

Time ceased. Joseph could hardly think. She'd asked something of him that was going to prove d.a.m.n near impossible, if not fatal.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, trying to separate what was on her face from what she'd said.

"No! No!" she begged. "I don't want you to wait. Please," she said, and slid her hands beneath his shirt, lifting it up and off without disturbing a b.u.t.ton.

"Aaahh."

It was all he could say as her nails raked lightly across the breadth of his chest and then around, digging into the tightened muscles under his shoulder blades.

Blindly, without thought or caution, his hands moved of their own accord. Clothing shifted, then dropped to the floor, hearts stopped, and then jump-started again with the first touch of skin against skin.

"Like this, baby," he whispered, and shifted her legs to allow him access to her body. He shivered as his hands slid over the satiny surface of her skin, and when he felt the heat, he moved and made them one.

Molly was instantly lost in eyes so dark that she couldn't see past the pa.s.sion. And when he lifted her up, and then let her back down, her breath thickened as their bodies merged. As he shut his eyes in momentary ecstasy, he groaned against her ear, and she forgot what she'd been about to say.

At first, there was only the feeling of being made whole, of being complete when, for so long, she'd known that there was a part of her missing. And then other, more subtle sensations began to take hold. The strong, constant ebb and flow of their bodies moving against and then with each other, the way the muscles across his back bunched beneath her hands as the tension stretched between them.

Joseph couldn't think. There was nothing in his life at this moment except the feel of this woman in his arms. The way her body softened and warmed, accepting him into herself without caution. He shook, wondering-praying-that his legs would not give way and tumble them both into the floor. It had been so long, and it felt so good.

And he began to move faster, in and out, over and over, until her breathing changed and he felt her tightening around him. Molly shook, whispering soft, almost nonexistent promises against his cheek, begging him to finish what they'd both begun.

"Oh G.o.d," he groaned, and slid his hands behind her hips to cushion them from the wall as he moved deeper. It was time.

Heat spiraled, breath melded, and Joseph covered her lips with his own. And when she arched against the final thrust of his body and then collapsed within his arms, he swallowed her sigh, and knew a pleasure unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Spent pa.s.sion left them weak and shaking, helpless and unwilling to move.

Her name was a prayer upon his lips. "Molly, Molly," he whispered, raining kisses over and over across her face and neck as he searched her body, gently a.s.suring himself that what they'd given to each other had been willingly received. "Tell me you're...tell me that I didn't..." He shuddered, and leaned his forehead against hers, unable to finish what he'd been trying to say.

"I am. You didn't."

She sighed as she felt him move. Once again she was Molly. Alone, but no longer empty. He'd done what she'd thought no one could ever do again. He'd filled her soul.

"Don't be sorry that happened," he begged, and cupped her face in his hands.

"Only if it never happens again," she said, smiling through tears as she rearranged her clothing.

Joseph stared, forgot what he'd been about to say, and began to grin.

"I have a request," he asked, threading his fingers through the tousled abandon he'd made of her curls.

She looked up and waited. Right now, she'd have refused him nothing.

"When we do this again...can we do it lying down? My legs are still shaking." He waited for an answer. "So, what do you say?"

"My clothes are still wet," Molly said, and c.o.c.ked an eyebrow upward in a teasing fashion.

"G.o.d help me," Joseph said, and scooped her into his arms.

"Wait," Molly said, just as he started into his room with her in his arms. "Put me down."

Joseph did as he was asked, expecting everything except what she did next.

Molly slid to the floor, gave him a gentle pat on the cheek to remember her by, and tiptoed across the hall, peeking quietly through the half-open door of Joey's room. Shuddering, she leaned her head against the door frame, watching Joey as he slept.

"I've never been so scared," she said, as she felt Joseph's arms sliding around her from behind. "I could hear him screaming when I got off the elevator. I ran and I ran until I thought my heart would burst."

Joseph was too full of emotion to speak. He was hearing-from a woman who needn't have cared-what he'd longed to hear from Joey's real mother: concern, compa.s.sion, and a nurturing responsibility that only comes through love.

"My heart's about to burst, too," he whispered. "But for an entirely different reason." He turned her within his embrace. "I don't know whether you're ready to hear this or not, but I need to say it before we make love again." He cradled her face in his hands, gently rubbing his thumbs across her lower lip to keep it from trembling, and then sighed, leaned down, and they touched, cheek to cheek.

"What is it, Joseph? You can tell me anything. If you're afraid I'm going to pressure you into some commitment, or some declaration, don't be. What I feel for you...what happened between us...does not encompa.s.s rules."

He shook his head, and allowed himself a lingering taste of her lips before he spoke.

"But I do. I have rules. I can't make love to you again, until I tell you..." He shuddered as his arms slipped around her, afraid to look into her face as he spoke the words. "I love you, Molly Eden. And as G.o.d is my witness, I can't face the thought of you not loving me back."

Molly's heart jumped within her breast. The small cry of joy was all she allowed herself, and then she was in his arms.

"Take me to bed, Joseph," she said, whispering softly against his ear. "And quit worrying...love comes easy...when you have someone to give it to."

He smiled. "Does this mean you love me too?"

"I don't just love you, Joseph Rossi. I need you." She peppered his face with kisses. "I adore you." Her hands shook as she began unbuckling his belt. "I..."

"Allow me," he whispered, lifted her back off her feet, and carried her into his room, taking quiet care to lock the door behind him.

"You have an advantage over me," Molly said, as he deposited her in the middle of his bed.

His eyebrows arched, asking the question his lips did not.

"You've seen me naked," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It's about time you returned the favor."

Joseph grinned. "It will be my pleasure to accommodate you, my love," he said.

He did, and it was.

The bell over the shop door jingled. Harry paused in the middle of sweeping the floor and then grinned as the duo came into the shop, hand in hand.

"Hey there," Harry said. "It's good to see you guys." He set the broom aside and dusted his hands on the seat of his pants.

"I gots my siches out," Joey said, and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"By golly, so you did!" Harry cried, and patted the child gently on top of the head. "I'll bet you didn't even cry."

Joseph hid a grin. "Not much," he offered, leaving out his son's hysterics.

Harry grinned. "Molly is in her office."

Joseph returned Harry's grin. "Am I that obvious?"

Harry shrugged. "Us men have to stick together, hunh, Joey?" And then he slapped his leg as if he'd just had a thought. "Say! I'll bet you'd like to go outside and see the new goldfish in the pond. One of them has a black tail."

Joey squealed and made a run for the back door. Harry looked up at Joseph for permission. "I'll keep an eye on him for you...if you need to see Molly."

I'll always need Molly, he thought. "Thanks," he said, "I appreciate the offer. Don't let him talk you into anything he's not supposed to do," he warned. Harry waved his concerns away and left with Joey firmly in hand.

Joseph walked down the hall toward Molly's office, pausing just inside the open doorway to feast his eyes on the sight of her. It had been exactly one day since they'd talked, and seven since they'd made love, and he was in desperate need of a fix. He needed Molly-to touch her, to hold her, to taste her laughter, to feel the love.

She was sitting at her desk, worrying her lower lip with the edge of her teeth, muttering under her breath as she stared at the monitor of her computer.

"Now, where did I put you?" she asked the screen, searching, as she had for the last forty-five minutes, for the lost invoice.

"You put me in need, lady," he said softly.

The hair stood up on the back of her neck as her hands went limp on the keys. Slowly, she swiveled herself around in the chair, praying she hadn't been imagining the voice that she'd heard.

A smile broke the solemnity of her face. "I didn't know you were coming." And then it froze in place as a thought occurred. "Is something wrong with Joey?"

"For a change, no," he said. "But there's something wrong with me."

He walked around her desk, pulled her to her feet and into his arms, nuzzling the spot beneath the lobe of her left ear that elicited the groan for which he'd been searching.

"What's wrong with you?" Molly asked. And then blushed when Joseph took her hand and slid it down the front of his slacks.

"Need I say more?" he asked.

"That's just an excuse you created on demand," she whispered, and slid her arms beneath his jacket.

The scent of leather, the familiar band of muscles across his back, and the laughter in his voice made her weak-kneed.

"That's not what we used to call it in high school," Joseph said, managing to keep a straight face in spite of the ache she'd started in his belly. Just looking at her made him want. And holding her created an impossible need for more.