"I… was afraid…"
She wasn’t allowed to finish. Brand advanced two steps toward her, then stopped. "Have I ever given you a reason to fear me? Ever? Am I so damn difficult to talk to? Is that it?"
"I wasn’t afraid of you."
"A letter doesn’t make a whole lot of sense."
"I know," she whispered woefully. "It seemed the best way at the time. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Trust me, it hasn’t exactly been a piece of cake for me, either."
"Explain it to me, Erin, because I’m telling you right now, I can’t make heads or tails out of that letter. You love me, but you can’t marry me because you’re afraid we’ll end up divorcing someday and you don’t want to put our children through the trauma. Do you realize how crazy that sounds?"
"It isn’t crazy," she cried, vaulting to her feet. "Okay, so maybe I didn’t explain myself very well, but you weren’t there. You don’t know."
"I wasn’t where?"
"In the courthouse that day with Aimee." She covered her face with her hands and shook her head, trying to dispel the ready images that popped into her head. The same ones that had returned to haunt her so often. The young mother, who was consulting with her attorney and trying so hard to disguise the fact that she was crying. Aimee, her legs swinging like a pendulum gone berserk while she smoked like a chimney the whole time, pretending she was as cool as a milkshake. The heartache. The pain that was all so tangible. And the silence. That horrible, wounded silence.
"What makes you so certain we’ll divorce?" Brand demanded.
Lowering her hands, she sadly shook her head. "Because you’re Navy."
"I’m getting damn tired of that argument."
"That’s because you’ve ignored my feelings about the military from the first. I told you the night we met how I felt about dating anyone in the military. I warned you…but you insisted. You refused to leave well enough alone – "
"Come on, Erin," he argued bitterly, "I didn’t exactly kidnap you and force you to date me. You were as eager to get to know me as I was you."
"But I – "
"You don’t have a single quarrel. You wanted this. You can argue until you’re blue in the face, but it won’t make a damn bit of difference."
"I can’t marry you."
"Fine, then we’ll be lovers." He jerked off his blue uniform jacket and started on the buttons of his military-issue shirt.
Stunned, Erin didn’t move. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. "I… I… what about the coffee?"
"Right. I’ll cancel it." He walked over to the phone and dialed room service. When he turned back to her, he seemed surprised that she was still wearing her coat. "Go on," he urged. "Get undressed."
Erin’s mind raced for an excuse. "You’re not serious," she said, crowding the words together.
"The hell I’m not. I don’t suppose you’re protected," he said, pausing momentarily. "Well, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it." He sat on the end of the bed and removed his shoes, then stood and methodically undid his belt. While she stood stunned, barely able to believe what she was viewing, he unzipped his pants and calmly stepped out of them.
Erin sucked in a sharp breath and backed up two or three paces. Brand must have sensed her movement, because he glanced up, seemingly surprised to find her standing so far away from him.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered. He stood before her in his boxer shorts and T-shirt, seemingly impatient for her to remove her own things.
"Brand, I…can’t do this."
"Why not?" he demanded. "You were plenty eager before. As I recall, you once told me you’d rather we were lovers. I was the one fool enough to insist we marry."
"Not like this," she pleaded. "Not when you’re so…cold."
"Trust me, Erin, a few kisses will warm us both right up." He walked over to her and systematically unbuttoned her coat. She stood, numb with disbelief. This couldn’t actually be happening, could it? In answer to her silent question, her coat fell to the floor.
Brand’s eyes were on hers, and she noted that the anger was gone, replaced with some emotion she couldn’t name. With his gaze continuing to hold hers, Brand reached behind her for the zipper at the back of her dress. The hissing sound of it gliding open filled the room as though a swarm of bees were directly behind them. She raised her hands in a weak protest, but Brand ignored her.
Easing the material over her smooth shoulders, he paused midway in his journey to press his moist, hot mouth to the hollow of her throat. Tense and frightened, Erin jerked slightly, then reached out and gripped the edge of the table to steady herself.
"Brand," she pleaded once more. "Please don’t…not like this."
"You’ll be saying a lot more than please before we’re finished," he assured her.
His mouth traveled at a leisurely pace up the side of her neck, across the sensitized skin at the underside of her jaw. Despite everything, his nearness warmed her blood.
Everything was different now. He was loving and gentle and so incredibly male. He smelled of musk. Erin had forgotten how much she enjoyed the manly fragrance that was Brand. He turned his head and nuzzled her ear with his nose, and unable to resist him any longer, Erin slipped her arms around his middle and tentatively held on to his waist.