"More."
"But-"
"Cam!" Her hips rose to meet his. She touched him then, and met his steady gaze with such wonder and love in hers, he was lost, so completely lost. Setting the rhythm slow and deep, it was Haley who speeded him up by wrapping her legs and arms around him; she who demanded more, she who brought them to a sudden helpless urgency that he could hardly bear. He could hear the splashing of water, see her lovely wet body shimmering in the unsteady light, feel her clinging to him with a desperation that matched his.
She shuddered beneath him with the thrill of it, the pleasure. There was an unexpected poignancy in this-having her surrender so completely, watching her explode over and over. It had never been like this for him-never. His body thrust into her like iron into velvet, and as she called his name in a dreamy voice filled with dazzlement, he buried his face into her sweet, damp hair and let her shatter him.
Haley lay still, even though the water had long since gone tepid and most of the candles had burned down to little stubs. She didn't want to move, ever; she wanted to stay drenched in the scent of Cam's skin, feel his heart still thundering against hers.
But reality intruded, and with it came the threat of tears.
How many such moments would they have? She had to leave-and soon. Branson would hunt her down if she didn't show up. He was too organized, too methodical, to let her go. Thank God for this last memory of Cam, she'd treasure it always; but just the thought had an unexpected sob nearly choking her.
Cam lifted his head, made a soft sound of dismay. "I hurt you."
"No," she said quickly. "It's not you."
He stood, clearly unaware of what a picture he made-that tanned, nude body with water sluicing off it to the floor. Bending, he scooped her up against his chest and carried her, dripping wet, to his bed. Covering them with his quilt, he hugged her close and kissed her with a soft, aching tenderness that only brought more scalding tears.
Her wildest fantasy had come true, with greater reality than she had ever thought possible. It had been beyond her greatest dreams, made that way by his love for her-and her love for him.
How could she leave him now?
She would hurt him so badly. He pulled her closer and she could only close her eyes and cry, desperately afraid and so full of sorrow she didn't know how to handle it. But she was strong, and used to such pressure. She would leave, she had to. She couldn't risk the person she loved more than life itself.
"Haley, what is it?" He smoothed the hair back from her face. "Tell me."
His voice was full of pain because he thought he'd done something. One last lie, she promised herself. Just this one last lie to save him. "I always cry when I'm happy."
He tipped his head back to study her face. "Are you hurting?" He shifted as if to get up. "Wait, I'll get you a warm, wet cloth."
But she held him close, preventing his escape, feeling the need to cling. "I'm fine. Great, actually." That much was true. Her body had never felt so deliriously tingly and alive. She hadn't thought she could need so much, or that a man could give so much.
But this man could. Cam had given her that and more. He loved her.
He framed her face, his own solemn and serious. "You're really okay? Not in too much pain?"
She had to lighten the mood now, or she'd start crying again and never stop. So she smiled and forced a teasing tone. "Are you asking me to rate what just happened? Because if you are, as you very well know, I have nothing to compare it to."
"Try hard," he suggested, narrowing his eyes as he caught her teasing tone. He grabbed her waist and squeezed gently. "Try real hard."
"All right." It was an effort not to giggle at his fierce expression as they lay side by side. She, Dr. Haley Whitfield, lay in bed next to this gorgeous man. Who loved her. She gave in to the luxury and skimmed her hands over his beautiful chest. "Like I said," she said slowly, concentrating on the rippling strength of him. "I have nothing to compare it to- Ouch!" She giggled as he bit her ear. "Okay, okay. It definitely went right off the scale as far as these things go."
He flashed her a very satisfied-with-himself male grin. "Are you sure? Because if you can't really remember, we could, you know… try again." He cocked a brow. "Just to revive your memory, you understand,"
She let her fingers dance over his still-damp spine, marveling at the muscles she felt there. The sight of his lean, hard body seriously hindered her ability to breathe. But the euphoria he'd created dimmed when she looked into his deep brown eyes. The moments she had left with him were numbered and she knew she'd never again feel the sweetness of a time like this.
She'd never again be told how much she was loved, needed, wanted. "You know, you may be on to something," she whispered, meeting his smoldering gaze. "I think you should. Revive my memory, that is."
"Yeah?" He skimmed his hand over the length of her, his eyes following the movement as if he couldn't get enough of her.
"It would be just the thing I need."
He rolled her onto her back, holding her down possessively with his body, and closed his lips on hers. "Well, then," he murmured, sliding his hot, open mouth over her jaw, down her throat, "Let me oblige you, darlin'."
Amazingly, Cam slept. He dreamed the light, weightless dreams of a very contented man. But even before he came fully awake, before he reached for her, he knew.
Haley was gone.
Chapter 11
Cam stood in the center of the guesthouse, frantic. Haley had cleared out, damn her, without a word. She'd taken nothing, not a stitch of Nellie's clothes that he could see, nor any of the things she'd bought in town that first week.
But she was undoubtedly gone.
Storming into her bedroom, he stared at the neatly made bed. Dread and welling fury mixed now. On the small chair, neatly folded, lay his denim jacket-the same jacket she'd worn since the beginning. He scooped it up and the scent that was so uniquely, gloriously her wafted up.
He shook his head, as angry at himself as with her. He'd known it, had prepared for it, but it still hurt more than he could possibly have thought.
She'd run.
Max rubbed against his legs, whining, worrying. Cam scooped up the puppy and got a sloppy kiss that failed to bring a smile to his face.
Why, dammit? Why now?
"Cam," Zach said from the doorway.
"Go away." Cam didn't turn to face him, wasn't ready to see the I-told-you-so his brother would never utter, but that would be there so plainly in his eyes. "Just go away."
"Can't do that, I'm sorry. Cam…"
His brother's voice came low, controlled… and very shaky. Nothing rattled Zach-nothing-and Cam whipped around to look at him. "What?" he asked, fear lacing his voice. God, what else? "Nellie?"
"No." Zach took a deep breath and looked at Cam with things in his eyes that hadn't been there since-since Lorraine had died. The horror, compassion and gut-wrenching loyally had Cam bracing himself for the worst. "It's not Jas, either," Zach added quickly. "It's Haley. There's something on the answering machine you're going to want to hear right away."
The day was cold, nearly frigid, and all Cam could think as he walked to the big house was that Haley had left wearing only her light blouse and trousers.
They strode in grating silence inside, to where both Jason and Nellie stood by the answering machine, ominously quiet. Nellie had tears streaming down her face and Jason held her tight. Cam looked at them, swallowed hard and hit the message button.