Runner's Moon Trilogy Megabook Series (40 page)

About forty minutes later, Sarah found herself thumping squash and realizing she had never had so much fun grocery shopping. The supermarket was less than a mile from her apartment. It was the only one she frequented, and she must have been coming here for all of the four years she had been living in Templeton. But never would she have put the words

"fun" and "vegetables" in the same sentence. Not until now.

Grabbing the squash from her hands, Simon gave it a sniff before placing it in their cart. "What did you say this was?"

she asked, grinning.

"Spaghetti squash. You'll love it." He grinned back. "Ever have it before?"

"Spaghetti? Sure! Who hasn't? But spaghetti doesn't come from a gourd."

"Just you wait." He grabbed the handlebar and maneuvered the basket around a woman and two young children. Sarah lingered for a moment over the infant tucked in its safety seat. Two miniature feet poked out from beneath the blanket. One foot wore a striped sock, but the other was bare.

Yep. Pink baby toes. Exactly that shade, she noticed with a smile.

"Sarah, do you plan on us having supper tonight or tomorrow night?" A voice behind her teased.

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Laughing, she hurried to catch up with him. But not before she caught a brunette flaunting a diamond stud in her navel and visually undressing Simon. Oddly, the woman's blatant interest didn't bother her. Nor did she feel any sort of jealousy, despite the fact that the leggy brunette hadn't been the only woman trying to get Simon's attention. Simon's Greek god looks drew women to him no matter what their age. Young, old, and in between—when he passed them, they had no choice but to stop and stare in appreciation. And a moment later, when they caught sight of her with him, each gave her a curious lift of an eyebrow. As if they were wondering what in the world Sarah Drumman could have that would interest a man like Simon.

"Quit your dawdling," he teased once she rejoined him.

"Sorry. I was thinking."

"About me, I hope."

She stared at him, hoping he was teasing her again.

"Being a bit egotistical, Mr. Morr?"

He chuckled. "I have the right, don't I? To hope the woman I'm with is with me mentally as well as physically?

And isn't daydreaming about another lover somewhere else?"

Sarah let go with a raspberry. "Yeah, right. Like I would have another man in my life."

She came to a sudden halt in the middle of the dairy section and bit her tongue. Now why would she go and confess something like that to him? It made her sound like she was some old spinster who wouldn't know what to do with a man even if she had one.

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Simon seemed to sense why she had hesitated, and he flashed her a warm smile. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, "So there's hope for me?"

"Hope for ... what?" Her body shivered slightly, either from the cold air coming from the dairy case or from the tone of his insinuation.

"Hope that I might be able to sweep you off your feet."

And do what? Her little inner voice demanded.

"Plying me with food and drink in order to seduce me, Mr.

Morr?" she tossed back at him. She hoped he would sense the grain of concern in her question. Oh, dear Lord, she was flirting with him! Out-and-out seductively flirting! Sarah Anne Drumman! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!

Yeah, right. In a pig's eye!

She waited for his reply as her heart pounded sluggishly inside her chest. But instead of giving her a straight yes or no answer, Simon laughed and gave their basket a little shake.

"Come on, Professor. We're wasting time standing here. If you want to find out my ulterior motives, let's wait until we're back at your place before you ask.

He grabbed a package of butter and a couple of other items as they headed for the register, where he insisted on paying for everything. A quick stop later at the Grab 'n Go for a tank of gas, and they were heading back to her place.

Sarah was unable to keep her eyes off the man who had so casually taken the reins and assumed a place in her life, filling a slot she never knew was empty until he came along. Yes, she knew she was alone in this world. But sometimes "alone"

didn't translate into "lonely." Not until now.

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It had taken her a while to understand that while Simon Morr knew he was blessed with dynamite looks and dripped sex appeal, he didn't care. Nor did he use it for gain or special favors. Good heavens! There were times Sarah wondered if he didn't consider his appearance to be a hindrance rather than a bonus. Was it his foreign breeding that made him indifferent?

Back at the apartment, Simon began cooking while Sarah unloaded the car and started putting away the groceries.

Twice she stopped to watch him as he navigated through her kitchen, opening each drawer and door to see what was behind it so he would know where certain items would be when he needed them. She kept a well-stocked kitchen when it came to cookware and utensils. There were even several decent cookbooks sitting on the counter behind the coffeepot.

But like most of her good intentions, she had never found the time to follow through with learning to cook. Simon, on the other hand, seemed a natural.

"Who taught you to cook?" she asked as she handed him the clean dishtowel he requested.

"I did. It also helped me learn how to read your language.

Do you have a cookie sheet I can put the squash on?"

She made a face and went in search of the cookie sheet.

This was the first time she had ever heard of someone learning English by reading a cookbook. But it made sense to her. "I take it you don't go out much to eat."

Whatever he was fixing, it was already making her stomach growl in anticipation. Simon shoved a raw carrot 559

stick in her hand and ordered her to eat it. "Not very often,"

he replied, turning his attention back to the stove.

"Not even for lunch?"

"I often fix a lunch to take with me to the site."

"How long have you been in the U.S?" Okay, so she wasn't a big fan of carrots. But gnawing on the vegetable was helping to keep the hunger pains at bay.

"Six, almost seven years, give or take a few months."

At the sound of something sizzling, she walked over to peer at what was in the pan on top of the burner. The chicken breast she recognized. But the white rectangular lump of something-or-other was totally alien. Pointing a finger in its direction, she asked, "And that stuff would be..."

"Tofu."

Sarah made a face. "Tofu? Eww."

"Don't 'eww' what I'm cooking, Professor. Especially if you're not the one who's going to eat it." He gestured at the table with a nod of his head. "Go set the table if you're needing something to do."

She washed her hands and prepared to do just that. "Why aren't you fixing yourself chicken, too?"

"I can't eat meat."

She snickered. "You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I kid about something like that?"

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. But nothing beats a slab of prime rib that's so tender you can cut it with a fork."

"Good. Then I'll treat you to prime rib some other time.

But tonight you're going to suffer through my cooking." He turned to glance back at her. "What? What's wrong?"

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What was wrong? Did the man just insinuate that there would be other dates?

She swallowed around the desert-dry lump in her throat, the same lump that clogged her nose and burned tears into her eyes. Seeing her expression, Simon took a step toward her. And once again his eyes reflected his concern.

"What's wrong, Sarah? Was it something I said? If so, tell me what, and I'll apologize immediately."

"Wh-why?" she barely managed to squeak as her chest closed in.

"Why what?" He moved closer to her, but he didn't reach out to touch her. If he touched her she knew she would break into another crying jag. And no matter what country a man was from, they never liked women having crying jags.

"Why are you doing this?"

There. She finally was able to say what had been whirling around in her mind ever since he took her to the coffee shop, then told her he would contact her again. The man had saved her virtue and her sanity. He didn't owe her anything. In fact, it was she who had a debt to repay.

Simon moved closer and his voice dropped lower, down into that basso profundo, I'm-going-to-make-you-faint range.

"Why am I doing what? Cooking dinner?"

"No." She managed a tiny shake of her head. "No. Not that. I mean me. Why are you being so nice to me, Simon? I barely know you."

He paused. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Love at first—

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That tiny moan she heard was coming from her own throat. No, not a moan. More like a whine. Like the way a small puppy cries for attention. For affection.

"Don't shit with me, Simon Morr," she whispered with trembling lips. His face was so close to hers they were almost touching noses.

"I will not lie to you, Sarah. You have become more precious to me than you will ever know. And right now I'm hoping that I might have the chance to do to you what you've done to me."

He took another step toward her until he filled her vision with his Adonis golden glow. Sarah felt a slight fluttering on either side of her ribcage and realized it was his hands. He was keeping his hands away from her, away from touching her for fear she was going to reject him.

She trembled, unable to believe what was happening to her. Had she heard him right? Did he just admit to her that he was in love with her? And that he was attempting to make her fall in love with him?

It was a trick. It had to be a trick. There was no way someone as good looking as Simon Morr could fall in love with a dumpy, unattractive, plain—

"Sarah."

He kissed her. Or rather, he touched her lips with his.

Sweet, light, unbelievably tender. She moaned again without realizing she'd made a sound.

"Sarah." His whisper stroked her mouth. Still his hands remained a fraction of an inch away from touching her. He 562

was trembling as much as she was, and the discovery surprised her as much as the plaintive sound of his voice.

"Sarah, I can't lose you."

She opened her mouth to ask him why he could love someone like her when her stomach chose to intrude with a very rude noise. Snorting softly, Simon moved away.

The spell was broken. And along with it went the chance for an answer. But she wasn't about to let him get away without finding out what she needed to know. So Mr. Morr was in love with her? Then before this night was over, she was determined he would have to prove it.

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"Jiminy Cricket! Would you look at that!"

"See, I told you spaghetti could come from squash." Simon laughed softly as he scraped the strands into a bowl before adding a small dab of real butter on top to melt. "Go put this on the table, and I'll bring the rest of it."

Sarah took the bowl and added it to the other bowl already sitting on her small dining room table. "Do you ever eat vegetables from a can?"

"Only when I have no other choice. The fresh stuff is healthier for you, even if it takes a bit longer to fix." He lowered a tray with the meat onto the table, then glanced at the place settings. Shooting her a slightly peeved look, he leaned down and moved her plate from where it sat opposite his, over to where she would be sitting next to him. Sarah felt a flush of heat rise into her face at his silent rebuttal.

Because he wanted just water with his meal, she chose to do the same. She took her seat and let him serve her. "It smells heavenly, Simon. I'm famished."

"Good. And while we're eating, it's time you told me a little bit about yourself."

She dragged her eyes away from her plate. "Me?" she asked, staring at him.

"You've done nothing but ask me questions about myself,"

he told her. "It's time I got to ask you the questions. Like, do you have any family?"

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Answering with a small shrug, Sarah admitted, "I have a mother somewhere, I think. I could have a half-sibling, too, I guess. She and Dad divorced when I was young. I haven't heard from her since then. Dad said she wasn't the mothering type." Taking a bite of the spaghetti squash, she was surprised to discover she liked it. Well, add another check mark in the plus column for Vegetarian Man.

"Where does your father live?"

"Dad died a few years ago, soon after I got my Masters degree and moved here to accept the position in the astronomy department." Laughing softly, she quickly amended, "Correction. I am the astronomy department."

"So you're basically alone."

"Yeah..."

Almost at that same instant she admitted she had no close kin, Sarah felt a coldness come over her.

She had no one. No family. Which also meant that if something happened to her, no one would really care. Of course the college would be missing one of its faculty, but would anyone actually miss her?

His turquoise eyes stared right back at her. The green flecks almost glittered in the light from the overhead swag lamp.

Were they the eyes of a killer? A stalker who preyed on lonely, unsuspecting women? The man was in construction, for crying out loud! It wouldn't be any problem to dump a body at the site and cover it with concrete. After all, who would suspect? Who would know where to look for her amid the rubble? Her remains could stay hidden—

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"I'm not going to hurt you, Sarah," he gently told her.

She started. Geez, was the man capable of reading her mind?

"I could never hurt you, t'korra," he continued. "You mean more to me than my own life."

Sarah remained frozen in her chair. He sounded sincere.

Hell, he sounded more than sincere. It was as if he had just opened his heart to let her peek inside. And that word ...

t'korra...

Her hands spasmed. Dropping her eyes to where her wrists were resting on top of the table, she was surprised to see her fingers gripping her knife and fork like weapons. Ready to use. Ready to lash out in defense. Simon had noticed her posture as well.

"Sarah." He dropped his utensils and reached over to gently pry hers from her grasp. Slowly he uncurled her fingers until her hands were resting in his. And again that incredible feeling of warmth and security started to flow into her. She couldn't take her eyes off of her hands clasped in his. Or his thumbs caressing her knuckles, stroking each individual finger down to the nails she kept short and unpolished.

"Sarah, look at me."

She did. What she saw reflected on his face was heartbreaking.

"Something terrible has happened to you in the past.

That's why you choose to remain alone," he told her.

She continued to stare at him in silent wonder.

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"Your past is over, t'korra." A shy grin came over him as he softly repeated the strange word to himself, tasting it as thought it was the sweetest concoction he had ever put in his mouth.

"What does that mean?" she blurted, needing to know.

"What does what mean?"

"That word. T'korra. Is it part of your language?"

She felt a gentle squeeze on her hands. "Yes. It means

'loved one.'"

The confession drew a tiny smile from the corner of her mouth. "You act like you're not used to saying it."

"I'm not. You're the first and only woman I'll ever use it on."

Heat suddenly rushed into her body. Sarah felt her skin break out in a small sweat from the reaction. "Please ...

please don't tease me like that. I'm not..."

"You're not what?"

It was a struggle to take a deep breath. Their dinner was growing cold. "I'm not used to falling in love with people I've barely met. I don't play the field. I know practically nothing about dating or stuff like that."

The sting of tears in her eyes and nose irritated her. She didn't want to look weak in front of him. But, damn it, the flow of calmness and serenity invading her body wasn't something she was used to dealing with either.

Disappointment, yes. Being stood up or being taken advantage of, most definitely. But honest emotion, no. Not honest devotion or love. Those were fairy tale words. They 567

didn't actually exist in the real world. At least not for Sarah Drumman.

The smile that had been lingering on his face blossomed.

In a voice soft with hope, Simon repeated, "You're not used to falling in love with people you've barely met? Sarah ... is that an admission?"

Oh, damn. Too late to take it back. Well, it was time she either dove in with both feet and risked it all or got up and showed him the door. The choice was simple, although her heart had already made up its mind.

"Yeah." She gave a single nod. And waited. Waited for him to make the next move, and prayed he wouldn't take her confession and use it as a weapon against her. Would she be able to survive if he did?

She was totally lost. Totally at his mercy and completely at his bidding.

She desperately needed to feel his arms around her. She had to have his comforting hugs and maybe a kiss or two to reassure her she'd done the right thing. That everything was going to be all right now. And, yes, people could lead Happily Ever After lives if they'd gone through as much shit as she had.

Confused and frightened, and with her emotions lying raw in the open for him to do with as he pleased, Sarah never saw him rise from his chair and reach for her. She never felt him pulling her against him until his arms and his scent wrapped tightly around her.

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There was a gasp, followed by a sob. Her face was even with his shoulder, and she buried her nose in his collar. Her arms circled his waist and pressed along his back.

How long they clung to each other she had no idea. He didn't speak to her, didn't stroke her. But somehow she knew he wasn't going to take the next step. He wasn't going to push her or try to coerce her into doing anything she didn't want to do. Or wasn't ready to do.

She was warm. And loved.

Loved.

"Tell me you love me," she begged in a barely audible whisper.

He moved slightly. The steel-strong arms wrapped further around her.

"I can't begin to tell you how long I've been needing you,"

Simon murmured close to her ear. "Or how long I've been searching for you. But when I walked onto the campus that first day, I knew you were there. My love. My life mate. My t'korra. All I had to do was find you." A kiss touched her forehead. "I know it's difficult for you to understand right now. But trust me. It will all become clearer. Soon."

He moved again. This time a length like a piece of iron pipe pressed into her abdomen. The feel of it quivering sent hot flashes like electrical charges surging through her.

Moisture slicked her inner thighs, and pain clenched inside her abdomen. Male and female, their bodies called to each other and answered each other. She wiped her hands over his back, aware of the sculpted wall of muscles—those well-toned, 569

perfect muscles that were like armor. Another kiss brushed near her ear.

"Would I be in the wrong if I admitted I want to make love to you, t'korra?"

"Here? Now?"

"But if you're not ready..." he said, allowing her to make the final decision.

Sarah lifted her face to look at him, to see his eyes burning with a green fire that literally wiped away any last doubts she might have had about his sincerity. Her arms came up, her hands reached for his shoulders, and she guided him closer.

She met his kiss with the same amount of hesitation as he did. Tentative. Exploring. She relished the shy way he tasted her. Simon's lips were warm and gentle, yet she got the impression he was holding back. Holding back so as not to scare her.

Still she couldn't deny the effect he had on her. Or the way her legs could barely hold her up. Or the way her breasts mashed into his chest until she breathed in unison with him.

His minty aroma filled her lungs and bubbled into her blood, reminding her of evenings curled in front of a crackling fireplace. Bringing back memories of when she had been safe and protected. The same way she felt secure and protected right now.

Yet something continued to feel "off." It was like he was holding back. Treating her like a porcelain doll that was too valuable to mishandle.

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But she wasn't breakable, damn it. No. This wasn't right.

This wasn't the way she wanted to be loved. Neither was it was the way she wanted him to love her. It was too sweet.

Too hesitant. Too emotionally confining. She wanted more.

More forcefulness. With more demands made of her body and more possession taken of her.

Digging her nails into the wall of iron across his back, she pulled her lips away from his mouth and hoarsely demanded,

"Take me, damn it. If you want to fuck me, do it now. Show me how much you love me. Make me feel it!"

The last words were barely out of her mouth when he lifted her into those steel arms and began rapidly carrying her down the hallway. A moment later he lowered her legs to the floor and reached for the hem of her blouse to pull it over her head. Sarah reached behind her head to undo the knot of hair while he unhooked the clasps on her bra. Simon combed his fingers through her loosened strands, fluffing them around her shoulders.

"You look younger with your hair down," he murmured.

Before she could reply, he kissed her again. This time she gently pressed her tongue into his mouth, surprised by the fact that he seemed uninitiated in French kissing.

Warm hands cupped her breasts. Her body instantly pressed herself into his grasp. It seemed to focus on the way his thumbs playfully flicked her tightening nipples. Teasing.

Inciting a near riot in the growing wetness between her thighs. She moaned into his mouth. He replied with a deep, loud sniff, as if he could savor the muskiness in the air.

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They fumbled in the near darkness. The only light came from down the hallway, from the dining room area. Once she was naked, she reached for his belt, jerking it through the loops while he undid enough buttons on his long-sleeved shirt to pull the whole thing over his head.

Simon pushed away her hands when she ran into difficulty trying to slip his pants over his hips. Her eyes widened when she discovered why she was having problems. If she had thought his erection was big when it had been digging into her lower stomach, her concept of it had been grossly underrated. Even in the dank light it stood out proud and stiff, mutely inviting her touch. And the heavy breathing echoing in the room wasn't coming just from her.

Seconds ticked by. Slowly Sarah reached out and drew her fingertips across the satiny skin, watching its reaction. The flushed length of manhood quivered under her touch.

Instinctively she wrapped her fingers around it and gave it a squeeze. Simon threw back his head and moaned, his hands clenching at his side. In the next breath Sarah found herself flat on her back on the bed with Simon on top of her.

He took absolute possession of her, but with a tenderness that shocked her. While his arms and hands held her still, his mouth roamed free to taste and lick and nibble at his pleasure. Her neck, her shoulders, down to the ripeness of her generous breasts with their diamond-hard tips—his body remained poised above her as his heavy length burned a path over her belly.

She was amazed by the dichotomy in the way it felt.

Smooth, yet etched with bulging blood vessels. Satiny to the 572

touch, but rigid and unbending. As Simon moved freely over her, plumping her breasts and sucking on her sunset-colored nipples, Sarah kept both hands wrapped around his increasing erection, guiding it toward the juncture between her legs.

It had been years since she'd had sex. Judging by Simon's fumbling actions, he seemed to be suffering from the same duration of celibacy. But that couldn't be right, could it? a tiny voice in the back of her mind protested. A man this beautiful being celibate?

There was very little foreplay. If being with him, being touched by him, and being loved by him felt this wonderful without sex, then heaven had to be waiting for them to physically become lovers. She heard Simon's groan, a sound more painful than pleasurable, and felt it echo all the way to the deepest part of her.

Lifting her hips, she thrust upward, catching the tip of his erection and letting it slide partway in. Simon shuddered at the contact. His head went up as he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders.

She thrust again, this time pushing down on his hips. Pain sparkled as rarely used muscles parted to allow all of him easier access. Simon groaned again and gasped her name.