To his relief and pleased surprise, she was standing beside the bed in the next moment, looking down at him. She was wearing one of his white undershirts. He pulled the covers back.
She slipped in and lay on her back.
He lay on his back four inches away from her.
“Give me your hand.”
She did. He squeezed her fingers. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Surprisingly, they did.
When Quinlan awoke early the following morning, she was sprawled on top of him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs parted, lying directly on top of his. The undershirt had ridden up to her waist.
Oh, damn, he thought, trying not to move, trying to tell himself that this was just something else a professionally trained FBI agent had to learn how to deal with. So it hadn’t been covered in the sixteen-week training course at Qutsitico. No big deal. He had experience. He wasn’t sixteen. He breathed through his teeth.
Yes, he would handle this situation with poise and composure. He felt the heat of her through his boxer shorts. He was just a smidgeon of material away from her, that was all, and he knew that composure was a big thing at this point.
“Sally?”
“Hmmmm?”
He was harder than his uncle Alex’s divining rod. No way he was going to scare her. As gently as he could, he pushed her off him onto her back. The only thing was that she didn’t let go of him. He had no choice but to come down over her. Now Uncle Alex’s divining rod was between her legs, just where it belonged.
What the hell was poise anyway? It didn’t seem too important right this moment.
“Sally, I’m in a bad way. Let me go, okay?”
Her arms eased around his neck but she kept her fingers laced.
He could have easily pulled away from her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She was slight and warm and he thought where he was and where she was a very nice thing. He loved the feel of her arms tight about his neck. He liked her warm breath against his neck.
He thought having her here beneath him until he croaked would be a very nice thing.
He was staring down at her. He opened his mouth and said, “Sally, would you marry me?”
Her eyes came open in a flash. “What did you say?”
“I asked you to marry me.”
“I don’t know, James. I’m already married.”
“I’d forgotten that. Sally, please don’t move. Do you want to take your arms off my neck?”
“No, not really. You’re warm, James, and I like your weight on me. I feel safe and like everything just might be all right. Somebody would have to go through you to get to me. They’d never make it, you’re too solid, too strong. Please don’t roll off me.”
Solid and strong was he? He turned even harder. “You’re sure you’re not afraid? After what happened to you at the sanitarium, I won’t want to scare you.”
She frowned even as she tightened her arms around his neck. “It’s odd, but you never scared me except when you came roaring through Amabel’s door like a bull that day, that day when my father called me for the first time. But after that, not at all, not even when you walked in on me and I’d just come out of the shower.”
“You were so beautiful, I thought I’d lose it for sure.”
“Me? Beautiful?” She snorted, and he was charmed. “I’m a stick, but you’re nice to say it.”
“But it’s true. I looked at you and thought, She’s perfect. I really like that little black mole on the side of your belly, just beside your left pelvic bone.”
“Oh, dear, you saw that much of me?”
“Oh, yes. A man’s eyes can move real fast when the motivation is there. Why don’t you dump Scott Brainerd and then you can marry me?”
“I don’t think he’ll mind at all,” she said after a moment. “Actually he’s already dumped me, despite those pleas he made on TV.” She was rubbing her hands over his shoulders and upper back. His skin was warm and smooth. “Shortly after we were married, I knew it had been a mistake. I was as busy as he was, always on the go, always going out to meetings and parties and functions in the evenings, always talking to people on the phone, always having people over. I loved it, and he seemed to at first.