Irresistible Attraction: Scenes of Passion / Midnight Seduction / Beyond Control

“Says who?” she countered, tightening the grip of her legs around him, then laughing at the expression on his face.

Another kiss propelled them across the room and they tumbled together onto Maggie’s bed, Matt kissing her again and again in an explosion of need and desire.

“I came up here to talk,” he tried to tell her.

“I can’t talk right now,” she said, kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his lips. “I’m busy.”

He laughed. She kissed his neck, and he closed his eyes, his laughter turning to a sigh of pleasure as he touched her, as he filled his hands with her breasts, as he stroked the smoothness of her soft skin.

“It’s important,” he breathed.

“I’m listening.” She trailed kisses down his chest to his stomach.

Matt felt her tugging at the waistband of his shorts, and he grabbed her wrist. He spun her over and pinned her to the bed with his body, his hands holding her arms above her head.

“Now I’m really listening.” She smiled up at him.

Unable to resist, he brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her slowly, sweetly, deeply. When he pulled back, she was trembling.

And he was, too.

“I really tried to stay away from you,” he confessed. “I know this is selfish, but I couldn’t help myself because…” He took a deep breath and said it. “I love you, Mags.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Maggie said quietly.

“But I do,” he told her. “I’m crazy in love with you. I have been for years. It’s important to me that you know that.”

She looked searchingly into his eyes, her expression dubious. “Matt, I’m not one of those women who have to think that you’re in love with them before they’ll—”

“No. Mags, I know that,” Matt said. “This isn’t a line. I love you. You have to believe me. God, I’ve never been more sincere in my entire life.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It does to me. Damn it, I love you! You better believe me.”

Maggie stared up at Matt. His eyes held a glint of determination she’d only seen since he’d begun improving the business, and suddenly, she realized that he was serious.

He was serious.

He loved her.

It was a good thing she was lying down, or she’d fall over. “I believe you,” she whispered.

Relief and satisfaction flared in his eyes before he leaned forward to kiss her again. His mouth caressed hers, gently at first, then with greater need. He was on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even closer to her.

She was on fire. Everywhere he touched her, she burned. He stopped kissing her, and she pulled her arms free, reaching up around his neck to bring his mouth back to hers.

But he resisted. “Maggie…” His face was so serious.

She pressed one finger to his lips. “Matt, I love you, too,” she told him with a tremulous smile. “Make love to me.”

But he didn’t smile back. In fact, he looked even more troubled. “There’s more I have to tell you.”

Maggie pushed him off of her. “No.”

Well, that surprised him.

“Not now.” She crossed to the dresser and dug through her purse. Matt sat up slightly, leaning back on one elbow, watching her. “You just told me that you love me.” She found what she was searching for and crossed back to him, picking up his free hand and slapping the little package into it. “Use this and prove it.”

He looked at her in amazement. “You carry condoms in your purse?”

Maggie crossed her arms. “Oh, great,” she said in mock anger. “Now you want to talk about that, too?”

He pulled her down onto the bed with him and kissed her. Maggie wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but when she came up for air, she was no longer wearing her nightgown.

He ran his hands and his eyes over her body, and Maggie felt the familiar rush of heat to her face as she blushed. Then a deeper, more powerful heat infused her as his mouth found her breast.

She ran her fingers though Matt’s long, shiny hair, arching her hips up toward him. She could feel him through his shorts, but that wasn’t good enough.

He clearly thought the same thing, rolling over and, in one quick motion, he yanked them down and kicked his legs free.

Matt had dropped the condom on the bed, and now he reached for it and put it on. He really didn’t need it—there was no way he could get her pregnant, and he hadn’t been with anyone else in—God, it was years. But it would take too long to explain, and Maggie had been adamant about this not being the right time for conversation.

He lay beside her and kissed her, intending to take his time. He’d waited so long for this moment. Every minute, every second was going to count.

But when she opened her mouth to him, when she threw one leg over his hips, he knew he couldn’t wait. And she was just as eager. He was surprised by her strength as she pulled him on top of her.

She reached for him, guiding him and then…

Oh, yes.

She moved with him, breathing his name, kissing him, touching him, surrounding him.

Time stood still and there was only Maggie, only these incredible sensations she was making him feel. His desire for her blazed through him, his heart pumping fire through his veins. His need consumed him and he heard himself call out her name as she exploded around him, as the rush of his own release nearly stopped his heart.

She kissed him, so sweetly, so completely, and he knew without a doubt that he would love her until the day that he died.

Please God, don’t let it be too soon.

Matt rolled over, pulling her with him so that her head rested on his shoulder. He kissed her again and again, kisses for the sake of kissing, delighting in the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her mouth.

Her eyes were so filled with love, he nearly wept.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She smiled. “I believe you. You’re a good actor, but you’re not that good.”

Matt laughed, but it faded away as he realized what he had to do now. There was no putting it off any longer. “We have to talk.”

Maggie sighed, running her fingers across his chest and arms, already starting to make him crazy again.

He couldn’t do this here. Not like this. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” he suggested. “Make a cup of tea?”

Something in his voice must’ve telegraphed his anxiety, because she sat up. “I’m listening,” she said. “Really.”

“Can we go downstairs?” he asked.

She nodded and reached for her nightgown.

Twelve

After putting the kettle on the stove, Matt pushed the kitchen windows closed. The night air had gone from cool to cold, with the wind blowing off the sound. Maggie had a sweatshirt on over her nightgown, but she still shivered slightly.

He sat down at the table, across from her, fiddling with the napkin holder as he tried to figure out how to start.

“Now that we’re down here,” he said with a laugh, “I’m not sure how to say this.”

She reached across the table, putting her hands on his. “Whatever you have to say, it can’t be that terrible, can it?”

He met her eyes. “Mags, it’s about when I went into the hospital. And yes, it’s terrible.”

She looked down at their hands for a moment, and when she looked back up, into his eyes again, there was so much love on her face, it nearly took his breath away. “You know there’s nothing you can say that will make me stop loving you. Nothing.”

“I had cancer,” he told her. There. He said it.

Maggie couldn’t breathe. She stared across the table at him, waiting, hoping, praying for it to be a joke. Any minute now he’d tell her the punchline.

“I was diagnosed,” Matt said softly, “with Hodgkin’s disease.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. It was indeed a joke, a cruel, horrible joke of fate. “Was? Past tense?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. Then he shook his head. “No, I don’t want to lie to you.” He looked up at her, his face apologetic, his eyes dark with unhappiness. “The truth is, I hope it’s gone, but I don’t know for sure. It’s been almost a year since I had my last treatment of chemo. The odds of a recurrence are pretty high for the first year—”

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