A Passion Most Pure (13 page)

Jackson's eyes rounded. "Well, I'll be doggone! You got it bad for both of 'em."

"Aw, you're out of your mind, you clown. It's Charity I'm after. The other one's too scary for me. A girl like that ... well, let's just say she's too prim and proper for me."

"But she's on your mind now, isn't she?"

Collin blistered Jackson with a look. "Not for long. Once I see more of Charity, the sister'll fade real fast, I'm sure."

"How sure?" Jackson was notorious for tweaking Collin when he was so serious, which of late, was probably more than Jackson liked.

"As sure as I am that I'll be at Brannigan's tonight, drinking you under the bar. Is that sure enough?"

"Exactly what I wanted to hear, as a matter of fact," Jackson said, tipping an imaginary hat as they headed out the door.

It was pure, breathless magic. Gliding on Katie's swings, Faith grinned at her sister Hope, the two sailing side by side into the heavens. They pumped in perfect harmony, breeze lashing their hair and toes poised and skimming the sky. Higher and higher they flew, their bodies taut with exhilaration. Their laughter floated on the wind as they thrust themselves into the blue, embracing the sun and the flood of its warmth. Faith's heart, like her body, was soaring with joy. Never had she felt so free, so peaceful ...

"Higher, Hope! Higher!" Faith said, but her sister's swing slowed, breaking their bond and their rhythm. In a sweep of the sky, Hope's magical swing split wide, flinging her into the air. Terror seized Faith's throat. "No!" she cried. But her screams were only silent echoes while her sister plummeted in the dark ...

Faith jolted up in her bed and clutched her nightgown, her heart thundering in her breast. Across the room Charity slept soundly, the rhythm of her breathing in stark contrast to the panic choking the air from Faith's lungs. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the window, an ideal canvas for the sliver of moon that hung in the sky. It had to be past 2:00 a.m., she thought with a shudder. Slowly she laid her cheek on the pillow, all sleep gone from her eyes.

All at once, she sat up again. What was that? She strained to listen. Was it raining? She glanced at the window and blinked at the soft shaft of moonlight streaming across her floor. And then she heard it again-the faint clink of something against glass. She hurried to the window and stood to the side, peeking out at the backyard.

Her mother's lovingly tended garden was bathed in moonlight. Katie's rickety wooden wagon stood beneath the rope swings that hung from the massive oak, the one her mother always begged her father to trim. "Patrick, my garden needs sunlight," she would argue, and Father would give her the stern eye, followed by a somewhat intense discussion, the closest thing to an argument Faith ever saw between them. But tonight, all seemed quite peaceful and still as her eyes searched in the dark for some sign of intrusion.

And then she saw him. Her heart clutched in its usual exasperating fashion. He was standing there, bold and motionless in his stance, coat slung over his shoulder and hip cocked. His handsome face was illuminated in the moonlight as he peered up at her window. Faith's eyes flitted to Charity's bed. The breath, thick in her throat, slowly released when her sister didn't stir. Shifting back to the window, she carefully raised the sash.

He lifted his hand to shield his eyes. "Charity, is that you? I need to see you." His voice sounded different, a slow drawl, almost slurred in speech.

Faith struggled to restrain her panic. "Collin, go home! You'll wake my father. I'm serious-please leave!"

She heard his familiar laugh, slightly muffled and completely indifferent to her plea. In brazen arrogance, he tossed his coat over a limb and leaned against the oak, legs casually crossed and arms folded. "Nope, not goin' anywhere, not 'til I can see you, touch you, feel your lips on mine ..." His teasing tone increased in volume with each word spoken, causing a chill to ice her skin.

"All right, Collin, please hush! I'm coming!" She closed the window as quietly as possible and stole one more glance at Charity's bed. After reaching for her robe and slippers, she tiptoed toward the door. Except for the deafening pounding of her heart, all was quiet in the house as she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Blarney was close on her heels, tail wagging with curiosity.

"Stay, Blarney," she whispered as she silently opened the door to slip outside. The chill of the night air shivered through her, and she pulled her robe tighter about her, bracing herself for more than the cold. She stared out at the oak, and her heart skipped a beat when he wasn't there.

Stepping forward on the porch, she strained her eyes to catch sight of him. And then, like a thief in the night, he was behind her, his strong arms encircling her waist and his lips lost in her hair. He was kissing her, whispering things that caused her cheeks to flame in the glow of the moonlight. The heat of his touch felt like fire. Oh, God, I need your help!

And then, somewhere deep inside, beneath the passion he stirred, she could see things clearly once again. Yes, she wanted this-and she wanted it with him. But it had to be God's way, not hers and certainly not Collin's.

With a calm not experienced in his presence before, Faith pried his arms from her waist and slowly turned, hands propped on his chest to push him away. The startled look on his face almost made her smile as she stepped back.

"It's you!" he muttered, clearly taken by surprise, and she noticed his reflexes were a bit slower than usual. The easy smile was conspicuously absent, and he seemed shaken.

"Did you think I was going to send my sister down? Are you crazy ... or just not very bright?" This was fun. It felt wonderful to get the best of Collin McGuire.

Collin blinked, and then instinct kicked in with the slow smile. His eyes traveled from her face, down her body, and back up again. Even in the moonlight, he could see her blush.

"No," he drawled, "I just thought you wanted me for yourself."

She caught her breath and jerked her robe around her shivering frame. "You are the most egotistical, low, selfish human being-"

"Well, you might have me on egotistical and low, but lady, on the selfish, I'm afraid you got it all over me."

He heard the soft catch of her breath as her lips parted. "Me? Over you? You must be drunk!"

Collin chuckled to himself and ambled over to the porch swing to sit with his long legs sprawled out before him. "Yeah, I've had a few, no question about that. But I'm not drunk-at least not too drunk to see things the way they are." He watched her from the shadows of the swing, taking in the way her hair glinted in the moonlight and spilled over her shoulders. Her slight form shivered in her thin robe, which she clutched tightly with pinched fingers.

"And what way are they, exactly?" Her tone was curt.

Collin took his time answering. Never had he derived so much pleasure from rattling a woman. She was this sweet, demure little thing whose temper could be tripped faster than flipping a switch. A pretty powder keg, to be sure, righteous and noble until you lit the spark that made her blow. And then the fun began. He cocked his head and looked up, his lips easing into a knowing smile.

"Well, I'm not the one who's keeping her sister from spending time with the man she loves." He paused for effect, then continued. "Nor am I the one telling Bree Muldoon she's on the path to hell if she, shall we say, spends time with me?" His smile flattened, replaced by intense scrutiny as his eyes pierced hers. "I'm not sure, but it looks to me like one of two things. You either are the most selfish thing around or ..."

Her eyelids flickered and her mouth opened slightly, as if she couldn't breathe.

"You want me for yourself. So which is it? Tell me, Faith O'Connor, have I gotten to you?" It grated how his heart hammered in his chest whenever she was near, but he truly relished the effect he obviously had on her. He was glad he could get some of his own back. She had possessed his thoughts too much of late, and he wanted her to pay. She had no right to interfere in his relationship with Charity-or in his thoughts. He watched her now, a frail thing shuddering in the wind, all defenses stripped, and fought the urge to jump up and grab her in his arms. He swore softly under his breath. Why does she make me feel this way?

She looked sick standing there, the frigid wind whipping at her hair. Without a word, she moved to the door, then turned to confront him, her back stiff and her face set. "You know, Collin, I feel sorry for you. You think every woman will collapse under your spell. The charming Collin McGuire, so irresistible to women. Well, you're wrong. Not every woman chooses to do so, at least not this one. I'm looking for someone I can give my heart to and know it will be safe. Someone strong and good and moral. Youyou're just bent on your own quest of misguided lust, and I doubt if you will ever be satisfied."

She turned the knob, and in a split second he was there, his face inches from her own. She turned away as if she could smell the liquor on his breath. "Pretty high and mighty, aren't we, Faith O'Connor? I think you're lying. I think I have gotten to you, only you don't want me to know it. Why don't we just see?"

He pressed her back against the door, his lips muffling her response. He kissed her long and hard until the fight faded away. Only then did his lips leave her mouth to stray along the curve of her chin and nip at her earlobe. She moaned, her passion igniting him like no other woman had ever done. He was breathing hard and fast as his lips smothered her neck, and the ecstasy of it all was so staggering, he thought he would lose his mind. What am I doing?

She seemed so weak in his arms but somehow managed to pull away, and when she spoke, her whisper was an urgent plea. "No! I don't want this-please, Collin, no!"

His eyes were on fire. "Yes, you do! I can feel it! You can't lie to me, Faith, I feel it!"

She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips silenced her, softening against her own. The sweetness of her kiss mingled with salty tears that glistened on her cheek. Stunned, Collin tilted her face in the moonlight.

"You're crying!" he uttered in surprise. Silently, and with more tenderness than he intended, he wiped her face with his fingers. "I'm sorry," he whispered gruffly, "I didn't mean to be rough, but you got under my skin." He cupped her chin firmly with his hand, gentling his tone. "I know you're feeling the same thing I am, Faith. Why are you fighting it?"

She sniffed and leaned against the door, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She looked like such a little girl standing there, and Collin knew he was treading on dangerous ground.

"Because I really don't want to do this. I ... I do feel wonderful things when you kiss me, Collin, I won't lie to you. But it can't happen again. I don't want it to happen again, please."

He felt a sharp pain in his gut. What was she saying? There was something remarkable between them-they both felt it. Was she going to walk away from it? He shifted, keenly aware of her gaze. He fanned his fingers through his hair, then rubbed at his temple. "Because of Charity?" he asked, his eyes back on hers.

"No ... I mean, yes, of course because of Charity. But not just because of her."

"What, then?" He stepped back, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He suddenly felt like such a little boy-so unlike himself-and horribly awkward as she stared up at him.

"Because of Charity, yes, and because of my father, but mostly because of the way you make me feel. I ... can't afford to feel that way, Collin. The feelings-they scare me."

He grabbed her shoulders, relief flooding through him. "They scare me too, Faith, from that first moment in the park. I'm not sure what's going on, but there's something here, a pull between us. I felt it then when I looked in your eyes, and I know you felt it too. I don't know why or how, but it's there and it's real, and I can't fight it anymore. Any more than you can. Why do we even have to?"

She swallowed hard as she looked up at him. "Because these feelings-as wonderful as they are-they're not right. Not now, maybe not ever."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. He dropped his hands to his sides, and she rubbed her arms where his warmth had been. "What are you talking about, Faith? You've got me out of my mind. Do you want me or not?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "No. Not this way."

The impact of her words was like a physical blow. He bent over slightly, all arrogance crashing to the ground. "Why?" His voice was a whisper.

She reached to gently touch his arm. "Because I want it to be right. That's more important to me than anything in the world. Yes, I feel the fire when you touch me, but I need more than that. I need more than the physical aspect, hard as that is to resist. As much as I ... want you ... I have to be sure it's also what God wants."

He couldn't have been more stunned if she had slapped him. "God? What the blazes does God have to do with it?"

Her green eyes bristled. "Everything. I don't want anything or anyone unless it's what God wants."

"And what does God want?" he asked, his tone mocking.

"He wants you, Collin. He wants you to pursue him instead of your lust."

He could feel his anger flare. Pressing toward her once again, he ran his hand up the side of her robe. He laughed when she caught her breath. "Oh, really? And this God of yours, is he going to keep you warm at night?"

She thrust his hand away. "You are something, Collin McGuire. All you think about, care about, is your desire for the moment. Well, I want more, much more. I'm looking for something you don't seem to know a lot aboutgenuine love, like the kind between my parents. And yes, Collin, the kind of love where God is at the center. That's the only thing I'm going to settle for, and I guarantee it'll have more passion than you'll know in a lifetime."

"I doubt that. And who's gonna give you this passionate love-God?"

"Someone will ... someone who loves God as much as I do. I'm saving it for him, Collin. All the passion you provoke in me, it all belongs to him, wherever he is."

"You go right ahead, lady," he said, his eyes stinging with fury. "You save all that holy love of yours for God. But I'll lay good money on the table that says you're gonna end up a very bitter and a very lonely old maid."