His groan came as approval. His hip thrust added to the torment against her own body. Another tug toward the water and he proceeded. She stepped in. He did the same. She lowered. He, too. One leading. One following. A ballet of desire, drawing each other down and into the water.

The warmth rushed over her. As her arm sank into the liquid, she tensed, the liquid seeping into the wound.

"You continue to suffer."

She forced her arm farther down. "It is nothing that time will not heal."

He reversed their positions, sitting behind her and holding her against his muscular body, his erection pressing into her spine. "You'll take care, this time, to return the leathers?"

"I will. You are not at fault for my transgressions, my love."

He draped her arm along the edge of land where water wouldn't reach and entwined his fingers with hers, keeping it from being immersed.

"You are so kind to me, John."

"And you to me, Claire. So many days I pray for our circ.u.mstances to be different."

She rested against him, the natural ebb of water caressing her with feathery touches as his lips did the same, building within her the need for release. "Our lives are given us by G.o.d. I will never stop loving you."

"Nor will I." His hands slid down her side, caressing and soothing with each pa.s.s as the water did the same.

"Then by night, we shall share, and by day, we are nothing more than daughter of the tailor and beautiful farmer-no! Land owner." She closed her eyes, letting the warmth take over. Rather than wait for him to acquiesce, she lifted up, turned and straddled him. "Shall I entice you further, my love? Will you cease to worry about our futures and simply love me with your whole heart today?" She slipped farther forward, encompa.s.sing him with her body but not yet consuming him.

His jaw worked in his silence. "I will never stop. You are my destiny whether anyone can know or not."

A rise brought them in contact with each other and a descent filled her with him, sending pleasure through her body the likes of which a fire master couldn't have created in the sky. She closed her eyes, drawing him in fully and savoring the moment she'd craved for what seemed like lifetimes but had only just been a fortnight since their last.

Opening her eyes, she stared deep into his. His hands found her hips. She breathed in as she rocked against him with a gentleness that sent flutters along the surface of the water. Beneath her, his need for completion built, visible in the set of his jaw and repeated clench of his hands against her hips. She kept their pace languid but jostling the crystal clear liquid with each thrust.

Pleasure rippled through her, a lifetime of pure ecstasy where she could believe in a lack of physical and mental anguish, or torment of the heart, and simply be with the man over whom she loomed. The man she loved. The man who loved her. A man who knew his worth whether or not the world understood.

One hand stayed attached to her thigh while the other roamed her skin, slick and heated with desire. She kept up their pace, pulling and pressing, jostling them and water with an increase in speed. Their rhythm matched, creating a small wave that bounced against her back.

The muscles in his chest jumped as she continued their merging, the blending of two lives into one.

In sync. Together. Forever.

With his intense stare, the fierce grip on her hips and the flutter of his lids, she let herself go, taking her moment of release along with him and savoring in a secret moment.

a a a Taylor woke to darkness.

As her mind cleared, and her eyes adjusted, she flipped from her side to the other and collided with Ian. Her pounding heart calmed as his slow and regular breathing filled her mind with ease.

"You okay?" His groggy voice whispered in her ear. "You yelled out John a second ago."

She switched back to her other side, snuggled in, pressing against him, and murmured, "Just a dream. A dream." She tensed as her throbbing arm reminded her of her night, of what she'd shared with Ian in the tub, and of the vision she'd had that seemed as real as life. "I have no idea who John is."

It had been surreal. Vivid and vibrant. Emotional. It had caused her to crave him again and again.

Why haven't I told him?

"Go back to sleep. Everything's better with the sunlight." Ian's arm snaked out, wrapping around her torso in a comforting hug.

Just a dream.

I want what I had before.

19.

Taylor bolted upright for the second time. She spun to the left and found Ian gone. Her heart raced. She ripped the covers off and jumped from the bed, sending a pang through her chest and arm. Her race to the bathroom ended in a collision with him mid-exit.

His hands reached out and grabbed her biceps, sending a wave of torturous fire through her. Her stomach curdled, and she cried out.

He released her as if his clutch had branded his hands.

She fell backward against the wall, rubbing up and down her arm. A ridge raised along the surface.

Ian caught her chin before she could study it more. "Come in here." A deep breath of air escaped him.

Taylor stepped with him into the blinding light. He wore nothing but a towel around his waist. One half of her wanted to grab the edge and make it fall to the ground. The other part of her wanted to scream at whatever had happened to her arm.

"Oh." Ian's single word did not infuse confidence.

"Please tell me I don't have to go to the hospital. Please, Ian."

His head bounced left and right. "Let me call my dad and see if he can help. I doubt he has any privileges in Rochester, but he actually went to school here. Just don't look, and ... let me call him."

Taylor forced herself not to turn.

The triple knock took both their attentions. "Housekeeping," Michael said through the door.

Ian's snarl came out with a laugh. "Get ready, and let me know if you need anything."

She nodded.

He laid a kiss to her forehead, which only made her heart flip-flop worse than it had as she'd laid against him. Ian's voice trailed off as he closed the bathroom door behind him. Despite his suggestion otherwise, Taylor turned her arm toward the mirror.

The gauze had come loose, and what had once been red had turned a deep, purply blue. Her stomach cramped, sending bile up her throat. She dropped to the toilet, prepared to toss her last meal. She'd seen her crew sever fingers and even once watched a femoral artery spray at the beat of a heart. None of them affected her the way her own injuries did. With one hand, she spun the shower k.n.o.b. As steam filled the room, her stomach calmed. She stripped the gauze and basked in the warmth of the spray, hoping it would wash out whatever infection brewed.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked out, a towel wrapped around her hair, another around her body.

Ian sat on the edge of the bed, flipping channels on the television. He turned toward her as she approached her bag. "Can I help?"

"I'm good." Though she wished she'd packed more than the dinner outfit Ian had made her promise to bring-for a dinner than never happened. "Just ..." She fiddled with the zipper and failed.

Ian gave it one good yank. "My dad's coming over here to look at you, and we'll all go over to Grams'. Though, if you want something other than your black dress, I can offer you these." Ian pulled out a teal T-shirt with a spiral pattern over the sleeve and a pair of jeans Taylor recognized as her own. "The top comes from the gift shop, and the jeans I had washed this morning before you woke." He handed them to her. "And, since you slept naked with me, I was able to have your extras-" He held up her black, lace panties with a finger. "-carefully cleaned. Michael brought them back."

Taylor s.n.a.t.c.hed them with her free hand, though she smiled and leaned up. The light kiss she'd meant to give him he took with abandon. When he let her go, she swayed, and he caught her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little ... head rush." With a wink, she took her clothes and headed back to the bathroom.

"You're probably going to need help with that, you know."

"I can manage."

After three tries with her bra, in which she failed with greater results each time, Ian appeared within the frame of the door. "Want me to help you now?"

Taylor's shoulders fell. "Yes. Please."

He moved behind her, pulled and clipped. "I can't remember a time where I added one of these back."

"There's a first for everything." Taylor managed the rest of her clothes with little difficulty.

Another knock had Ian backing up.

"It's your dad!" A cheery voice sang out.

He nodded to Taylor and opened the door as she relocated to the interior again. The man who entered was mid-fifties, maybe early sixties, if even. Behind him, his spitting image followed.

"Hi, Michael," Taylor said from her spot on the edge of the bed. "Thanks for playing laundry man."

He waved in return.

"You must be Taylor." Ian's dad came in, traditional black bag in hand.

She held out her right arm but pulled back at the shooting pain. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm-"

"In some trouble, I think." He took the desk chair, pushed it up to her. "I'm Reggie. Ian and Michael's dad." The skin tone matched Ian's lighter coloring and eyes, but he duplicated Michael's face. "So, what happened here?"

"I'm in construction and was looking at a house. Instead of fixing it up, it came down around me."

Reggie stopped his work. "You're in construction? Like, get your hands dirty kind of work?"

"Yes." The stereotypical jock-as-construction att.i.tude and need-to-put-men-down-to-the-right-rung-on-the-ladder gene activated.

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned." Reggie turned toward Ian. "This boy wouldn't get his hands dirty if you promised him he'd be doing work in the ocean."

"I'll go in the ocean, Dad. Just not in the dirt." Ian stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the far wall. Michael slouched on the bed.

Facing Taylor, Reggie circled a finger around his ear. "Don't listen to him. Now, Teta.n.u.s shot?"

"Three years ago, I believe."

His fingers ran up the edge. "That's probably good then. May need to get you on some antibiotics. Allergic to anything?"

"No."

"Good. Good. I think it's just gotten infected. I wouldn't recommend st.i.tches ... we don't want to close in any bacteria. And, it's not deep, just long. Probably will be just fine and nothing to worry about. Now, Ian here, he's a whole *nother barrel of problems."

"Wha-" Ian started.

Reggie waved him off. "He thinks he's going to get away with me checking you out and not giving you any advice about him."

"Da-"

"So, all I gotta say is, I hope you know he's never once brought a girl home to meet us. Not even for prom. Headed there and never came back."

Taylor pinched her lips together to hide the smile, though she expected her actions did no good.

"And-" Reggie withdrew a tube of some antibiotic cream and rubbed it along the gash. "He's never talked about anyone like he has you. His mom would be up here telling you all these things if she didn't get queasy at the sight of a bug bite." His deft hands added to the soothing sensation along her skin. "She made me promise to embarra.s.s him on her behalf."

A peek at Ian, and his hands covered his face.

"He used to find baby animals and pretend he was their doctor. Never had a problem getting them to go into the box so he could save them. Always had a problem letting them out afterward." Gauze wrapped back around Taylor's arm. "Then, he went off to college and didn't follow in his father's footsteps. Never totally understood that, but hey, what can you do?" His gaze bored right into Taylor.

"Nothing?" she asked.

"Exactly." His lips curved. "Gotta just keep on movin'. Keep on keepin' on. I'll have one more doctor in the family eventually." His head tilted toward Michael. "Until then, Ian's done just fine-he and Tripp."

Taylor couldn't stop the grin. Parents loved to gush about their kids to the complete and utter embarra.s.sment of those kids-no matter their age.

"So, Dr. Sands-"

"Reggie, doll. Call me Reggie. Dr. Sands is for the people who pay for my house, cars, office, etcetera."

Taylor giggled, falling in love with Ian's dad. Her heart lurched as her gaze met Ian's. Yes, I am falling in love with him. And I'm a hundred percent sure that means again.

How is that possible?

a a a Ian's mom met them at the entrance to the hospital where Grams had been admitted.

"h.e.l.lo, gorgeous." Her fingers went straight to his cheeks, pinching like she always did. He kissed both her cheeks, and she pulled him in for a tight hug. "Now, tell me why this beautiful, young woman hasn't been up here before." She let go and moved to Taylor, taking her hand and tugging her in for a hug of equal size before Ian could warn her about Taylor's ribs.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Sands," Taylor said. Ian noted her pursed lips just before she said it.

"Oh, call me Georgia." Her hands ran up and down Taylor's good arm. "I'm just so honored that you'd make this trip with Ian and Michael. You're such a sweetheart to do that." His mom hooked her arm through Taylor's and led them through the outer doors.

His dad's hand hit Ian's shoulder. "You leave her with your mother, and you may never find her again. She's been waiting for you to bring someone home for so long I think she just may adopt her."