Carnal Innocence

and me who put you in the middle.”
    She laid a hand over his heart, wondering if she’d ever felt more comforted, more safe. “I used to think that way about things. That I was at the center, and whenever anything went wrong, I was to blame for it. It’s an indulgent kind of arrogance, I think. The kind that carves holes in you that you have to fill up with pills and therapy. Don’t change on me, Tucker. I’m starting to find your day-to-day way of looking at things appealing.”
    “It scared me.” When his arms tightened around her, she curved into him to give comfort as well as take it. “Nothing’s ever scared me more than hearing those shots and knowing I was too far away.”
    “I’ve been scared before, so many times. As horrible as this is, it’s really the first time I’ve done anything about my fear.” Her hand fisted, and she slowly, deliberately, relaxed it again. “I’m not glad it happened, Tucker, and I guess I’ll always remember what it was like to pull that trigger. But I can deal with it.”
    He stared at dust motes dancing in a sunbeam. There were things he’d never forget either. Like the numb terror of racing over a fallow field with shots echoing in his head. Like the glassy-eyed shock on her face when she’d walked by him to carry the limp dog into the house.
    “I’m no hero, Caroline. Christ knows, I don’t want to be one, but I’m going to see to it that nothing bad happens to you again.”
    She smiled. “That’s a broad and daring ambition,” she began, and tilted her head back to look at him. There was no answering smile in his eyes, and when he took her chin, his fingers were tense.
    “You’re important to me.” He said the words slowly,as if explaining them to himself. “Nobody’s ever been as important, and that’s hard.”
    The air was clogging in her lungs, the way it often did when she stood on a darkened stage, the moment before the spotlight found her. “I know. I guess it’s hard for both of us.”
    He saw the shadow of fear in her eyes, though she kept them steady and level on his. And because she was important, because everything about her had suddenly become vitally important, he struggled to lighten his tone.
    “It sure is a new one for me.” His tensed fingers relaxed to stroke her jaw. “Here I am all wrapped up in a woman and I haven’t even managed to get her clothes off yet. This gets around, my reputation’s going to suffer.”
    “Why don’t you try it now?”
    His finger froze on her cheek. “What’s that?”
    “I said, why don’t you try it now.” With her eyes still full of fears and needs and doubts, she lifted her lips to his.
    He felt himself sink into her, and that, too, was a change. That slow, lovely drift into sweetness. There was no hot punch of lust that he had always accepted so easily. Instead, there was a gentle shift of sensation, as subtle as a sky lightening toward dawn.
    As her body yielded against his, as her breathy sigh slipped intimately from her mouth to his, he understood that she was offering him more than passion. She was giving him her trust. It humbled him. It disturbed him. She was not the kind of woman to offer anything to a man casually. And he—he had always taken whatever a woman chose to give with an easy grin and no backward looks.
    “Caroline.” He brushed his fingers over her cheeks, combed them through her hair. “I want you.”
    His heart drummed fast and hard against hers. The quiet seriousness of his statement made her smile even as his lips cruised over her face. “I know.”
    “No, I mean I really want you.” The robe had slipped off her shoulder, and he let his lips wander tothat warm, sweet curve. “I guess I’ve been waiting for you to give me the go-ahead since about thirty seconds after I met you.”
    Her body trembled and arched under his. Why were they talking? Why were there words when she wanted only to feel? “I know that, too.”
    “It’s just that …” Her throat was so white, so smooth. It wasn’t in him to resist it. “I haven’t been exactly discreet when it comes to women.”
    She skimmed her hands over his bare back, exploring that intriguing ripple of muscle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
    “I don’t want you to regret this.” He rubbed his cheek against hers before he drew away. His eyes were dark with emotions she was afraid to consider. “I don’t think I could stand it if you did.”
    “You’re the last person I expected to