Dr. Destiny

On that thought, Cassie tossed the dishtowel onto the cabinet and strolled into the small living room. She took a seat on the couch opposite Brendan and Mister.

Brendan awkwardly patted the enamored cat’s head with his bandaged hand. ‘‘Does this walking hairball have a name?’’

‘‘Mister Ree.’’

‘‘Mystery?’’

‘‘No. Two words, Mister R-e-e.’’

‘‘Weird name.’’

‘‘Not really. His background is a mystery. I have no idea where he came from. He just showed up one day two years ago, and he’s been here ever since.’’

‘‘Do you always pick up strays?’’

‘‘Only cats. And every now and then a man who’s locked his keys in the car.’’

Brendan frowned. ‘‘So you bring men home often?’’

‘‘I’m kidding. If you recall, we’ve already had this conversation about my love life, or lack thereof.’’

Cassie leaned over and pulled Mister out of Brendan’s lap with some difficulty when the cat decided to hang on. The doctor looked more than relieved.

‘‘Time to go outside.’’ She stood and opened the door, and Mister scurried out.

‘‘He’s sure in a hurry,’’ Brendan said. ‘‘Must be some hot kitty waiting for him.’’

Cassie reclaimed her place on the end of the sofa. ‘‘He’s neutered.’’

Brendan grinned. ‘‘Do you do that to all your guests?’’

She leaned her head back and laughed, then brought her gaze back to his sparkling green eyes. ‘‘You betcha. Helps to keep the population of unwanted offspring down.’’

Brendan’s features switched from relaxed to serious as easily as one would click off a lamp. The glow of amusement had left his eyes, as well. ‘‘Probably not a bad idea at that.’’

Scooting around on the sofa to face him, Cassie crossed her legs in front of her, determined to wipe the frustration away from his face. ‘‘I spoke to the Neelys this afternoon. They’re so grateful to you for bringing their baby back around.’’

His mouth formed an unforgiving line to match his grave expression. ‘‘Back around to what? A child that might be blind? Chronic pulmonary problems because of a respirator?’’

She hated the sadness in his tone, in his eyes. ‘‘Would you like to know what Mrs. Neely said to me today?’’ When he didn’t respond, she continued. ‘‘She told me that she’s had three previous miscarriages. This pregnancy was the closest she’s carried to full term. She also told me that no matter what happens to her little girl, as long as she can bring her home, she’ll deal with any lingering problems when the time comes.’’

Brendan sighed. ‘‘Knowing what could happen doesn’t make dealing with it any easier.’’

‘‘I realize that, and so does she.’’ Cassie drew in a breath and forced back the threatening tears over Mrs. Neely’s parting words. ‘‘She also told me, ‘God’s given me a baby who needs me as much as I need her.’’’

Brendan leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his head into the cradle of his hands. The silence was excruciating while Cassie sat helpless, waiting for him to speak, wondering what she could do to make him feel better.

When he failed to raise his head, she slipped behind him on her knees and rested her hands on his broad shoulders to try and knead the tension away. ‘‘I hate seeing you this way, Brendan. Talk to me.’’

‘‘I couldn’t help him…’’ His words trailed off on a lingering sigh.

‘‘Him? You mean her, don’t you? The Neely baby?’’

‘‘No, I mean…’’ He expelled another broken breath then straightened as if trying to recover. ‘‘It was years ago, and it doesn’t matter. It’s over.’’

No, it wasn’t over, at least not for him, whatever ‘‘it’’ was. She suspected he was thinking back to another baby, probably one he didn’t save. Most likely something he deemed a failure, a circumstance that had stuck with him even after a long passage of time.

Cassie had been trained to handle such instances with patients, most of them strangers, but Brendan wasn’t a stranger. Still, she wouldn’t push him for more information than he was capable of giving. She hoped that by allowing him space and time, he would eventually talk to her. At the moment she only wanted to comfort him, get him past this particular crisis.

Cassie tightened her hold on him. ‘‘Tell me what you need, Brendan. Tell me what I can do to help.’’

Looking back with a soulful gaze, he twined his fingers with hers. ‘‘I need you, Cassie. Only you.’’

She moved into his lap then and held him, her heart breaking for the strong yet troubled doctor. Turning her face up, she accepted his sudden kiss. Not the same kiss from the night before. This one was full of frustration, fueled by Brendan’s despair. His hold on her tightened, as if he feared she might pull away. She had no desire to do that.

But could she risk it all by letting the intimacy continue? What would tomorrow bring if she did? An end to their relationship, or the beginning of something more, something deeper? If she took the plunge, the ultimate chance, would she find herself landing in love? Or was it already too late?

Taking Cassie by surprise, Brendan moved her aside and rose from the sofa. He held out his hand to her. ‘‘Come with me.’’

‘‘Where are we going?’’

‘‘To your bedroom.’’

Shock momentarily stole her voice. ‘‘Brendan, I’m not sure that’s—’’

‘‘Just for a while, Cassie. I need to hold you. I’m beat.’’

Cassie stood, questions racing around in her head, yet she took his hand and led him in silence to the darkened bedroom. Once there, he turned her into his arms and kissed her again, this time more gently. But she felt his despair as keenly as if it were her own.

Backing to the bed, he pulled her down to join him. They stretched out and faced each other, bodies and emotions intertwined, surrounded by comfortable darkness and welcome silence. She soon became lost in more of Brendan’s intoxicating kisses.

Deep down Cassie knew she should stop this before it went any further. Before she made the same mistake again, giving all of herself to Brendan knowing it could ruin the friendship, knowing he probably couldn’t give her more. Knowing that she would become even more emotionally drawn in to his world, probably to her own detriment.

Thankfully, he seemed content to only hold her close, but he continued to kiss her. Then he set his hands in motion over her back, trailed touches over the dip of her spine, caressed her bottom for a time, curled his fingertips between her thighs. His touch grew more insistent, carried her away from reality, from past lapses in judgment that seemed intent on repeating themselves. But this was Brendan touching her, Brendan holding her, something she had only imagined in her most secret fantasies.

From the sound of Brendan’s rapid breathing, his insistent kisses, she sensed he was nearing the edge, barely clinging to a fragile thread of restraint. So was she, and then suddenly the thread broke. They undressed with abandon, his scrubs and briefs, her sweatshirt, pants and underwear, until nothing came between them except warm flesh contacting warm flesh.

With a rough groan, Brendan rose above her, nudged her legs apart with a hair-roughened thigh and buried himself inside her. At first her body reacted with a spark of discomfort from the sudden sensual invasion. But as he held her close and whispered her name, she was struck with a sense of pleasure, of wonder, like nothing she had ever known before.

His thrusts grew almost desperate, all consuming. ‘‘I need you, Cassie,’’ he said, his words shot through with an agony that Cassie felt in the deepest reaches of her soul.

‘‘I’m here, Brendan,’’ she told him over and over, trying desperately to absorb some of his pain.

He trailed kisses across her neck and settled his lips on her breast. Cassie surrendered to the blissful moment, immersed herself in the rhythm, welcomed the intimacy and Brendan’s strength. She held fast to him, not daring to examine the feelings bubbling up inside her—a deep-seated longing—and love. A love that she had hidden from him, from herself for several months, until now.

Cassie was so close to the edge, wanting the sensations to go on forever, but they ended much too soon. With one last thrust and a moan, Brendan collapsed against her.

Neither of them moved as several seconds counted down in time with the ticking bedside clock, in sync with Cassie’s galloping pulse. Her heart raced frantically when she suddenly realized what they had done.

She hadn’t looked beyond the moment, beyond providing comfort. Nor had she considered the consequences. What should she do now? What would Brendan do?

Cassie knew the moment awareness hit Brendan. She sensed it in the tightening of his frame, the long sigh from his lips that now rested against her neck, and the single word, ‘‘Damn,’’ that came out in a harsh whisper.

Brendan slipped from her body, sat up and streaked both hands through his hair. ‘‘What in the hell have I done?’’

Cassie draped her legs over the edge of the bed, scooted beside him and laid a palm on his shoulder. ‘‘It wasn’t only you, Brendan.’’

He shrugged off her hand. ‘‘But I know better.’’

She flipped on the bedside lamp and sighed. ‘‘Like I don’t? We’re both responsible for what happened.’’

He focused on the watercolor painting hanging on the wall across the room, his hands fisted on his bare thighs. ‘‘Are you on the Pill?’’

‘‘I was. Low dose to regulate my periods. But I haven’t been taking them for three months.’’

‘‘That’s what I was afraid of.’’ He sounded afraid.

‘‘Pregnancy’s not our only concern.’’

He still wouldn’t look at her. ‘‘You don’t have to worry about that. I’m safe.’’

‘‘So am I.’’ She didn’t feel at all safe, not from an emotional standpoint. The intangible wall Brendan had raised concerned her almost as much as the threat of pregnancy. They should be holding each other in the aftermath, not debating the possible outcome. Maybe at some other time, some other place, that might actually happen. But not now.

She had intended to give him comfort, not cause him more pain. But that’s exactly what she had done. ‘‘Look, Brendan, odds are nothing will come of this.’’

He yanked on his scrubs then pushed off the bed to pace. ‘‘What if we defy the odds and you end up pregnant?’’

‘‘I’ll deal with it.’’

Halting before her, he said, ‘‘We’ll deal with it. You have to swear to me that you’ll tell me if you are.’’

‘‘Of course I’ll tell you. But that’s something we shouldn’t worry about now. No need to borrow trouble.’’

‘‘I am worried. Damned worried.’’

So was she, about many things, the least of which was the possible detriment to their relationship. How could a few moments of bliss that had felt so right, at least to Cassie, turn out to be so wrong? ‘‘Let’s take it one day at a time, okay?’’

His gaze traveled slowly over her flushed body, his eyes full of concern. ‘‘Did I hurt you? I was pretty rough.’’

Suddenly self-conscious over his steady perusal, Cassie grabbed the comforter to cover herself. ‘‘Of course you didn’t hurt me.’’

‘‘But I didn’t do that much for you, either.’’

‘‘I’m fine, Brendan. Really.’’

He took a seat next to her and clasped her hand between his large palms. ‘‘I’m an idiot, Cassie. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me now.’’

She rested her head on his shoulder. ‘‘I could never hate you, no matter what.’’

‘‘But you didn’t even—’’

‘‘It doesn’t matter.’’

‘‘Dammit, it does matter. You deserve better.’’

Normally she would agree. She preferred slow seduction, a little romance, long kisses, lots of foreplay, something she’d never really had before. But this hadn’t been a normal circumstance. Brendan didn’t realize that making love with him had meant a great deal to her, a union that had little to do with the physical and all to do with the emotional. He would never understand that. Most men wouldn’t.

‘‘I’m not going to break in two over this, Brendan.’’

‘‘No big deal, right?’’ he asked with a good deal of sarcasm.

She certainly couldn’t admit to that because it wasn’t at all true. ‘‘More like just one of those things.’’

He took her into his arms and stroked her hair with tenderness. The Brendan she knew—and loved—was back, at least for the moment. ‘‘I can’t stand the thought of losing our friendship over this.’’

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