and spent. Molly tried to recall their passion-murmured words and prayed she hadn’t disclosed her true feelings.
She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get so carried away. What was it about this man that made her lose all touch with reality? All he had to do was smile and her knees morphed into jelly. And his touch, well, that was another thing. Even the idea of him touching her sent shivers down her spine.
It had been a mix of incredible attraction–pheromones, hormones, and just plain lust. They should have been able to resist, should have, but they didn’t. Part of her regretted her actions, but part of her would treasure their lovemaking forever. She now knew what she’d been missing.
Molly stretched out in the bed like a coddled cat. It hadn’t been a bowl of milk she’d gorged on, but cream–rich, thick, and satisfying. Their lovemaking had left her exhausted, yet content. Molly lingered, not wanting to rouse in case it had all been another of her dreams. She lay still, not ready to face the harsh reality of second thoughts.
She should never have let things go this far. She should have said no. Was Pearce having second thoughts? She opened one eye, then the other. It was time to get up and face the day, no matter what misgivings either one of them had.
Dressing quickly, she checked on Gracie. The child slept peacefully, her breathing still quiet and regular. The only noise in the room was the thump of Trooper’s tail on the rug. Molly petted his silky fur. Leaving him on guard, she headed downstairs where she heard Pearce puttering in the kitchen.
Despite her shock at what she had done, Molly couldn’t keep her thoughts from lingering on the previous night. The memory of his fleeting touch, a touch that led to a whisper of a peck on her lips, that led to a sensual kiss, that led to a storm of passion. She couldn’t believe that between the two of them, neither had had the good sense to stop before they’d gone too far. And, caught up in the moment, neither had been prepared for the possible consequences of their actions.
Pearce was making coffee and turned as she came into the kitchen. His smile was warm, but cautious, as if he too wondered about her response to their actions. “Morning.” His voice sounded like silk, rich and deep, tinged with a husky quality that caught the breath in her throat.
He held the pot toward her. “Coffee?”
“Please.” She slid into one the chairs and leaned her elbows on the table, doubt seeping into her mind, plaguing her every thought. Was he regretting his actions, too? Is that why he’d left the bed in the middle of the night? His smile seemed warm enough, but...
“About last night,” she started, then hesitated.
“Yes?” The smile remained, but his face became guarded, unreadable.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have.” She looked up at him, hoping against hope that he would reassure her. Instead, he kept awkwardly silent. She licked her lips, hoping the words wouldn’t stick in her dry mouth. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have let it happen. You’re my patient.”
His eyes turned cobalt blue, and his glare speared through her, pinning her to the chair. He reached out for her arm. The touch of his hand on her bare arm was like a hot brand. She jerked away.
“Is that all I am, Molly?” He lowered his head until it was so close the heat of his breath whispered across her cheek. Her heart leapt in her chest as his lips, once again as gentle as a butterfly’s wings, caressed her skin.
He pulled her close. Tipping his head, his lips hovered briefly over hers. Her body leaned into his and molded perfectly, as if they were a two-piece puzzle.
His lips whispered against hers, his breath suddenly hot and heavy. Sparks jumped like a Boy Scouts’ campfire. But the feelings he roused in her would make a Boy Scout blush. His lips closed on hers and her world was suddenly lit up like a fireworks display.
His lips nuzzled her earlobe. “Is this how you react to all your patients?”
Molly couldn’t answer. His lips had captured hers, making speech impossible.
A sharp knocking on the front door interrupted them. Molly went to answer it. Katherine Nesbitt strode through the open door. Pearce came to the doorway of the kitchen, his face dark as thunder. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m back from my cruise and I...”
“You what,