Sarah's straight brows pulled together low over her eyes, “That is supposed to make me feel better?”

Matt chuckled at the unmistakable flare of jealousy in her eyes. “None of them were quite as sweet and pretty as yours.”

She sniffed. “Ingrid warned me you were full of flattery.”

“I'm surprised she didn't tell you I was full of something else.”

“She did”' she said, unable to keep her wry smile from curving her mouth. “But you don't smell like a cow yard so I guess she was exaggerating.”

“Oh, very funny,” Matt said sardonically, throwing a leg over hers and raising himself above her, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. His dark eyes twinkled like starlight. “You'll pay for that remark, Sarah Troyer. I feel it only fair to warn you that doctors are trained to know the body's most ticklish spots.”

“No! Oh, Matt! No!” She squealed and squirmed beneath the onslaught of his knowing fingers, twisting the sheets and rocking the bed as she struggled. “Matt! Don't! Stop!”

His fingers stilled at the sides of her breasts, and be stretched himself out on top of her, trying not to laugh too hard out of deference to his ribs. He rubbed his nose against the tip of Sarahs. “We'd better hold it down. Mrs. Parker is liable to come charging in here and blow us away. We might even wake the elusive Tim.”

Sarah giggled and shifted her hips beneath him, making their contact more intimate. Their gazes caught and heated. “You're not doing a very good job of keeping it down,” she whispered in a husky voice.

“No, I'm not,” he murmured, rocking gently against the heat of her.

Matt watched her intently as her eyes drifted shut and her face tightened in concentration. He dipped inside her and withdrew. She caught her breath and sighed.

He lowered his head and sampled the soft flesh at the side of her throat. Slowly he made his way down her body, lavishing attention on every inch of skin, nuzzling the full underside of her breasts, kissing the tiny mole just above her left hipbone, rubbing his nose across her belly button.

He pushed the sheet down farther, raising his head to study the downy nest of dark curls that cloaked her femininity when something else entirely caught his attention. Stretch marks. They were faint, but they were unmistakable to a trained eye. Matt traced a finger along the line that angled from her right hip.

“You had a baby,” he whispered, feeling the most alarming sense of disappointment that it hadn't been his.

Sarah met his gaze, wondering if the news would make her less desirable to him. “Yes,” she whispered in return. “He died.”

“Oh, Sarah.” Matt slid up beside her once again and leaned over her, stroking her hair back, his dark eyes full of sympathy. The pain he felt for her was as strong as if the loss had been his too. “I'm sorry. What happened?”

“Pneumonia. We didn't realize until too late. The doctor said it was just the croup, but then it got worse so quickly….”

“The doctor?” Matt said, tensing, anger rising up inside him. “Coswell?”

“Yes.”

“That man isn't fit to take care of monkeys. He ought to be drummed out of the profession.” He started to say something else, but Sarah lifted a hand and pressed her fingers to his lips.

“Bitte,” she whispered, begging his understanding with her eyes. “It's in the past. Nothing can bring Peter back. Let's not talk of it now. I don't want to be sad tonight, only happy. Please, Matt. Only happiness. Only good things tonight.”

“All I want is to make you happy,” Matt said, pushing his anger aside for Sarah's sake. He leaned down and kissed her with such tender ness, it brought a lump to his throat. “I love you.”

He trailed his lips along the delicate line of her jaw and let his hands set off on another fingertip tour of her body. She moved restlessly beneath him, her skin heating with the flush of desire.

“Matt?”

“Hmmm?”

“What you whispered in my ear before— what did that mean?”

He raised his head and looked at her, confused for a moment, then it dawned on him—both what he had whispered in the throes of passion and why Sarah hadn't understood what he meant. Of course she wouldn't have the same sexual vocabulary he had, if she had one at all. He smiled and leaned down again to nibble at her earlobe.

“You remember that incredible explosion that happened afterward?” he said in a voice warm and silky with passion remembered and renewed.

“Yes.”

“That's what I wanted to have happen.”

“Oh.” She caught her breath again and moaned as he lifted her hips and entered her, filling her. It was an incredible sensation, being claimed by him, feeling not only her body but her soul invaded by him. Her mind fogged as he began to move, and she whispered breathlessly, “Do you want it to happen again?

“Oh, yes, sweetheart,” he answered on a heartfelt groan. “Oh, yes.”


He rolled onto his back and cast a slit-eyed glance at the clock on the nightstand. Seven-thirty. Sarah had probably been up for an hour, seeing to her chores. When he breathed deep, he could smell breakfast cooking.