"When I came to, the paramedics were there. They said, and this is a quote, 'Consider yourself lucky you have a husband who cares'."

They lay in silence. Soon, her trembling subsided and she slept in his arms. He had more questions, but none that mattered in the least. What she revealed had been bad enough. The details of what happened after were unimportant. But the sudden need to protect her signaled a serious problem.

He was beginning to care. Too much.

Chelsie awoke with a start. For a long while, she lay in Griff's arms, savoring the feel of his body close to hers. Last night's revelations came swarming back. She'd only told that story once before, to the police. At the time, she'd been so alone. In the aftermath of what she'd come to think of as the main incident, she'd never repeated the tale. Not to her parents, who would hate the scandal should the episode be revealed, and certainly not to her happily married sister. She couldn't face Shannon with the shame of what she'd allowed to happen, and later of what she'd done.

The result had been a withdrawal of the only emotional support Chelsie had ever known. Once Shannon had gotten pregnant, the closeness they'd shared as siblings disintegrated even more.

To have Griff's unconditional support now meant a great deal. But then, Chelsie had omitted select details and he hadn't thought to ask. Her inability to have children and the way in which she'd dealt with her ex-husband would change his perception of her forever. Though she wouldn't have lied had he questioned her, she was grateful she had been spared the humiliation of admitting the truth.

Silence still reigned in the house. Maybe she could sneak out to the couch and avoid the agony of a pseudo-morning after.

She squirmed towards the edge of the bed. Griff locked one solid leg around hers, halting her effort "I won't pa.s.s judgment, you know," he said, obviously referring to her admission last night.

Chelsie closed her eyes. She'd been so close. "I never thought you would."

"Then why sneak out on me? It's not like we did anything and can't face each other in the morning. At least, not yet."

She rolled to face him and placed a hand on his forehead. "No fever."

"Yet." He smiled, a s.e.xy grin she found impossible to resist. "Care to rectify things?" he asked.

Would she ever. Good thing reality prevented her from acting on her baser instincts. "Alix will be up soon."

"Have you looked at a clock?"

She shook her head.

"It's five in the morning. That means three things. One, Alix finally slept through the night. Two, with any luck, she'll continue her pattern of sleeping until six-thirty or so. Three, we have to celebrate number one." He raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. "Unless you have other plans, in which case you're free to leave."

His dark eyes simmered with a combination of amus.e.m.e.nt and banked desire.

Free to leave? Her heart already belonged to him and wouldn't allow her to walk away. She'd held her own feelings for this man in check for so long, she now wondered if he'd done the same.

She glanced over. "You're so kind, Griff. Always giving me a choice." She sighed. "Let's see. Should I stay or should I go?"

He chuckled. "What can I say? I'm a firm believer in free will." Clasping her hand in his, he brought it to rest against his cheek. "I care about you," he said in a more serious voice.

"More than you want to?"

"More than I should."

"So join the club." She laughed ruefully, understanding the full import of his words for them both. "How'd you get this?" She traced the corner of his eye with a fingertip.

He drew a deep breath, but remained still. "I jumped off a fire escape when I was twelve."

"Girl watching?" she asked with a grin.

He shook his head. "No, Jared watching. The kids at school heard about how our mother took off with a boyfriend. Jared would get into fights and the bigger kids would wait on the corner to finish the job."

"Protective older brother," she murmured, brushing his hair off his forehead.

"At least I had backup."

"Ryan?"

"Who else?" He stilled her hand midair, his fingers locking with hers. "It's not working."

"What isn't?"

"Distracting me. Changing the subject. But the choice is still yours."

He had to be joking. They'd already spent the night in his bed, awakened tangled together and half-dressed, and she'd bared her soul to the man she loved. Her choice? Not likely. The decision had been taken out of her hands long ago.

She recalled her philosophy and decided to grasp what life-or in this case-Griff offered. When she looked back on this time, at least she'd have a beautiful memory.

She gazed up at him, fearful all she felt would show in her face. But she wanted to be with him. At this moment, she couldn't recall a time when she hadn't. He'd pervaded every aspect of her life, including work, which had formerly been her escape. In so doing, he'd become an important part of her. Too important. But she couldn't worry about that now.

A pa.s.sion simmered between them and now, no longer buried beneath the surface, it threatened to bubble over. And that was good, she thought, glancing into his desire-filled eyes. More than good.

"Okay, counselor," she murmured. "I choose you."

"Be sure." Griff could handle her changing her mind before they made love, but not tearful regrets and recriminations afterwards.

"I am."

He had to accept her word. Looking down at her tousled hair and barely parted lips, he could do nothing else. With one hand, he raised the hem of the shirt she'd borrowed and trailed his fingers along her abdomen. The silky texture of her skin jarred the rest of his body into a complete state of arousal.

She lay still, allowing his hand the freedom to wander at will. With his fingertips, he traced a line from mid-thigh along her narrow waist and over the curve of her breast. Pausing long enough to brush one hardened nipple with his thumb, he learned the feel of her skin. He inched his fingers downward.

She drew a shaky breath as her gaze fastened on his face. The trust he saw reflected in her brown eyes humbled him, especially after what he'd learned of her past. He wasn't sure he was worthy of that kind of faith. Though he'd do his best not to hurt her, he couldn't offer more than this.

Too much of himself had been torn apart, and the little that remained belonged to his niece. He could give Chelsie now. Perhaps that would be enough for her. He ignored the voice that asked if it would be enough for him.

"Griff?"

Looking at her curious expression, he realized that although his thoughts had rampaged out of control, his hand had stilled. "Sorry," he murmured and refocused his attention on what was important.

On Chelsie.

As he lowered his lips to meet hers, all hesitancy fled. Heat spread through him like a sudden burst of wind. The initial sensation stunned him, wreaking havoc with his body and soul.

Dipping his head, he caught her lips with his, coaxing her with his mouth, his tongue ... and a piece of his heart.

His hand, which had come to rest on her stomach, inched upward again. He tried to start slowly, to savor the feel of her beneath his touch, but she writhed beneath him, urging him to move higher and stroke faster.

He did, cupping her breast while brushing one sensitive nipple with his thumb until it hardened into a tight peak. All the while, he continued his gentle a.s.sault on her mouth, tasting her moist heat When she moaned softly, he took the sound deep inside of him, into a place she'd already reached.

He wanted to feel her gentle hands, wanted her to learn the feel of him as he had her. What he needed, he realized, was to know she wanted him, too. The blood rushing through him, demanding an immediate response, attested to his desire.

Through the haze of need, he realized she hadn't done more than run her hands along his bare back. He lifted his head and drew a deep breath.

She gazed at him through pa.s.sion-filled eyes. Though he liked what he saw, he wondered why she held back. "Touch me," he whispered.

Her eyes, which seemed heavy only seconds before, opened wide. He traced her moist lips with one finger. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

"What is it?" With his voice and movements, he attempted to strengthen the trust he had seen in her eyes.

"I don't know ... I mean ..." Her voice trailed off, her cheeks tinged pink in embarra.s.sment.

She was wonderfully responsive, but hadn't initiated any physical contact. He suspected her marriage had taught her little about s.e.x and even less about making love. Though he knew plenty about the act itself, he might know as little as Chelsie about the emotions involved. Until now, he hadn't cared enough to learn.

He reached for her hand and held on tight. "You don't have to know anything except what feels right for you."

"Teach me." Her words came out a combination of a plea and a dare. She probably didn't realize they'd be charting new territory together.

"Just feel," he whispered. With a gentle brush of his fingertips, he closed her eyelids. Long lashes fluttered against her cheeks.

"I want to know if your skin feels like silk." He let his fingers trail along her inner thigh, over the softness of her skin. Her muscles quivered enticingly beneath his touch, making his slow exploration even more difficult to maintain.

"I want to know if you taste sweet." He dipped his head and caught one nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled around twice, before he tugged gently with his teeth. She whimpered with undisguised need.

"So," she said in a husky voice, "if I want to know exactly how much you want me, all I have to do ..." Her seductive voice trailed off at the same moment her hand cupped him through his briefs.

He exhaled a slow groan, feeling desire swell and grow beneath her fingertips. "I should have known you'd be a quick student," he said on a ragged breath.

She chuckled, her eyes alight with laughter and a sense of liberation and satisfaction he hadn't seen there before.

"Number one in my graduating cla.s.s." As she spoke, her expression sobered, causing the light to dim. "But if this isn't what you bargained for, it's not too late to back out."

Her hand lay on his hard length, his body throbbed with unsatisfied need, yet she still offered him a way out. "What the h.e.l.l was it like for you?" he asked, harsher than he intended.

"Short, quick, and to the point." Chelsie closed her eyes, her humiliation complete. Not quite, she reminded herself. s.e.x was another area in which she never quite managed to satisfy her husband. What she felt for Griff surpa.s.sed anything in previous experience, which would make disappointing him so much harder to bear.

"Never again," he murmured softy, brushing his lips with hers. As if keeping his promise, he seduced her with his mouth, his tongue darting in and out, feasting on her mouth with gentle but insistent determination.

His hands worked similar magic, seemingly everywhere at once. She didn't know which part of her body trembled. Her skin burned, yet she craved more of his touch. More of Griff.

She allowed him to carry her away, to a place where sensation ruled and rational thoughts were not permitted to intrude. This time, she partic.i.p.ated, refusing to allow old insecurities and inhibitions to matter. After spending the night wrapped in his arms, separated only by a thin layer of cotton, Chelsie couldn't stand the wait.

She surprised him by removing his briefs herself, then raised her arms and allowed him to slowly peel off her shirt. He paused to taste every inch of exposed skin, lingering over extra-sensitive areas until she begged him to hurry. He then removed her lace panties with the same exquisite care, tantalizing and teasing until she cried out his name and pulled him up for a long, hot kiss.

Griff settled himself between her thighs, the tip of his erection pressed against her in a definite promise of more to come. The emotional intimacy they'd shared surpa.s.sed the physical, stunning her, considering they hadn't yet made love. And though the notion frightened her, she wanted him too much to back out now.

"Chelsie?"

He raised himself up on his elbows, taking his upper body weight off her. Though she missed the feel of his warmth pressing against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her lower body was on fire. He pulsed against her, making her ache with need.

"Hmm?" she asked, barely capable of a coherent word, let alone a coherent thought.

"Protection. It's in the drawer."

"Don't need it," she murmured, out of her mind with wanting him, needing him inside her.

An instant later, he thrust into her, realizing her silent plea. For Chelsie, this might as well have been her first time. He filled more than a simple need. He filled her heart. She closed her eyes against the truth, but the tears she held back mocked her effort.

Before long, the feel of him gliding inside her had her writhing with the need for more. And then sensation took over, obliterating all thought except how right he felt inside her.

Griff felt her quiver around him, felt her climb towards completion. He opened his eyes to watch her glistening face as she spiraled into a world that only he could share.

And he did, knowing the entire time that life after Chelsie would be drastically different than the life he had known before. His climax came with hers, unbelievably shattering in intensity. Unbelievably right He held her in his arms afterwards and felt her trembling. He remained silent. Words seemed inadequate. She'd been married and divorced; he'd been with his own share of women, a fiancee included. So why did he feel as if this time were the first? And why did that seem so d.a.m.ned important?

Because first times could never be repeated. And first loves never died. So now what?

Alix let out an ear-piercing shriek. Griff knew better than to ignore his niece and welcomed the few minutes alone.

"I'll get her." Without meeting her gaze, he untangled himself from Chelsie and gritted his teeth when the cool air hit his naked skin.

In silence, she slipped out of the bed and closed herself in his bathroom. He drew a steadying breath as the door clicked shut behind her. After donning a pair of jeans, he grabbed the shirt she'd been wearing. He pulled it over his head, but the chill remained.

Chelsie's warmth, which had been a part of him just minutes before, seemed long gone. And he missed her.

Griff returned quickly, before Chelsie could have a chance to formulate any regrets. The strength of what they'd shared stunned him. He knew they needed to deal with the aftereffects before either could place too much-or too little-emphasis on making love.

He plopped Alix down on the center of the mattress and rejoined Chelsie in bed. Alix rolled and flopped around on the large bed, apparently happy to be out of the confining crib.

Her dark eyes met his. From her expression, she, too, recognized that this was hardly the usual morning after. Whatever he was about to say got cut off by Alix, who threw herself into his arms. Her cheerful babble provided the only buffer between the two adults.

"Hey, squirt. What do you say you play on the floor a while. I've got some business to take care of." He placed her on the carpet beside the bed where he had a ready stack of toys for her to play with.

"No." Alix climbed back onto the bed with little agility but lots of gusto. At six-thirty in the morning, he had to admire her s.p.u.n.k.

Chelsie smiled, but the emotion didn't reach her eyes.

"At times like these, it's hard to imagine life with more than one kid." He ruffled Alix's soft curls with his hand.

"Is that what you want?" Chelsie asked.

He paused to think. One look at his niece and he had his answer. "Yeah." He gave Alix a playful tug on her hair.

Griff glanced at Chelsie, realizing for the first time that she had retreated to the far end of the bed. She'd changed into her sweatshirt and jeans from the day before, covering the body that he'd memorized inch by tantalizing inch. He didn't like the not-so-subtle message she projected.

"Scram, squirt," he whispered in Alix's ear. The little girl climbed between Griff and Chelsie. "Not exactly what I had in mind."

Alix smiled, showing the dimples that charmed everyone she met, then reached for Chelsie's hair. "Mommy."

Griff groaned. But to his surprise, the knife-like pain that usually accompanied Alix's pleas for her mother had dulled somewhat. In large part, he suspected, he owed that step forward to the woman sitting next to him.