Deadline (Sandra Brown)

collarbone. But even as she sighed with pleasure, she plaintively murmured his name.
    “Hmm?”
    “We can’t.”
    “I know.” But he didn’t stop at her collarbone. He continued down, placing soft kisses on her chest.
    “Really,” she said weakly.
    “I know.”
    Through the thin cotton tank top, his hand cupped her breast and pushed it up to swell above the neckline. He rubbed his rough cheek against it, then turned his face into the plumpness and kissed it open-mouthed. Hard with arousal, he fit himself into the V between her thighs. The sensation was so intense, she gasped.
    “Dawson, we can’t. I mean it. We can’t.”
    He went perfectly still, then raised his head and looked down at her. His eyes were glazed with passion, but he gave a slow nod, released her, and moved back a step. They stood there, breathing unevenly, staring at each other.
    Finally he said, “Afraid the people guarding you will see us?” He gestured toward the window above the sink.
    “That, yes, but…” She swallowed. “I wouldn’t even if they weren’t out there. I wouldn’t with the boys in the house. I know it’s old-fashioned, laughably old-fashioned, but I made myself a rule never to…It wouldn’t have happened the other morning, either. I’d have come to my senses before it got that far. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay.”
    “It’s not okay. I know it’s not. But I have to think about how impressionable the boys are. Even—”
    He stopped her by reaching out to slide her strap back into place, then put both hands on her shoulders. “I understand.”
    “That’s very decent of you.”
    He gave a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I’m a rock.”
    She smiled. “You agreed that we had to stop.”
    His grin faded as he removed his hands from her shoulders. “But not because of the boys.”
    “No?”
    He shook his head.
    “Then why?”
    He looked away from her for several seconds. When his darkly ringed eyes came back to hers, he said, “Because I won’t subject you to me.”
    *  *  *
     
    Dawson collected his socks and boots from the living room where he’d left them on the floor near the cursed sofa and took them upstairs to the bathroom designated as the boys’. By the time he had showered and dressed, their beds were empty. Following the sound of their voices, he went downstairs to the kitchen to find the family and Headly gathered around the dining table.
    “Look, Dawson, doughnuts,” Grant chirped. In the center of the table was a large white box from which Grant picked out a doughnut frosted with pink icing and covered with sprinkles. He passed it up to him.
    Amelia said, “Grant, you should have let Dawson choose which one he wanted.”
    Because of Grant’s handling, the icing had smeared and some of the sprinkles had shaken loose, but not for the world would Dawson have refused it. “Just the one I wanted. Thanks, buddy.” He ruffled the boy’s hair as he took a big bite.
    “He brought them,” Hunter said, pointing to Headly. “His name’s Mr. Headly.”
    As observant as a hawk, Headly was leaning back in his chair and sipping from a cup of coffee with a casualness that Dawson knew was phony. He missed nothing, possibly not even the faint whisker burn on Amelia’s throat.
    “Mom doesn’t let us have doughnuts for breakfast except sometimes on Saturdays. But she said it was okay today since Mr. Headly already brought them.”
    “Then this is a treat.” Dawson licked the icing and sprinkles off his fingers.
    Up to that point, he and Amelia had avoided looking directly at each other, an avoidance also noticed by Headly. Now, still not quite meeting his eyes, she offered Dawson coffee and started to leave her place at the table.
    “I’ll help myself.”
    He filled a mug with coffee and leaned against the counter to drink it while the boys finished their doughnuts. When they were done, Amelia sent them to wash their hands and faces. “Just what they needed,” she said, looking askance at Headly as she wiped the table with a damp sponge. “A sugar high.”
    He chuckled. “We’ll figure out a way to let them run it off later.”
    “Thank you. I would appreciate that.”
    “In the meantime, the three of us need to talk.”
    Amelia said, “Then I’d better figure out something to entertain the boys.”
    Everything that she’d packed into her car the day before had been unpacked and put back in its proper place. While she was settling the boys down with a DVD on the TV in the living