Never Let Go (6 page)

She glared
at him. “And just what do you think that proves?”

“That you want what I want.” His voice was low and all too suggestive.

“Which is?” Her blood was flowing through her like warm honey, sweet and a little wild. She was going to force him to spell it out. It would do him good to be direct for once. To her amazement, he didn’t bat an eye.

“To make love.” If the statement had been the least bit crude, Mallory would have denied it with the last breath in her body. Instead the words were gently coaxing and more intoxicating than the finest French champagne.

“Oh,” she said in a breathless whisper as heat swirled through her and practically melted her on the spot.

“Well?” His eyes met hers and wouldn’t let go. She fought to cling to some lingering shred of reason, but the only reality was Justin—Justin and the white-hot flame of desire that was burning inside her.

“Why tonight?” she managed at last.

Justin heard the hesitation in her voice, saw the hope in her eyes and knew she wanted promises he wasn’t prepared to make, answers he couldn’t give because he didn’t fully understand them himself. He sighed and settled for honesty, even though he knew it might cost him what he wanted more than anything. “Because tonight I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone before.”

She nodded solemnly. “Okay.”

He regarded her in surprise. He’d been prepared for a battle, and she’d offered him a surrender. “That’s it? Okay?”

There was just the slightest touch of defiance in the lift of her chin, but her voice was gentle. “Make no mistake about it, I want more from you, Justin Whitmore, but for now that’s enough. I need you, too.”

Her acceptance of his terms
threw him at first. He’d never known a woman like Mallory before, a woman totally without guile, a woman willing to accept a relationship that was free of demands. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He had known women who wanted nothing more than a pleasurable night in bed, but their easy ways had turned him off. Instinctively he knew that Mallory was different and that she was coming to him out of genuine caring. She was asking no more than he was prepared to give because it was the only way she could show him exactly how much she did care.

“My place or yours?” he said with a touch of irony. It was also a test of sorts. If she chose his, it would mean she was hoping for more than she was letting on. If she invited him to her place, she was allowing him the freedom to leave when he wanted.

“Mine,” she said readily, and at that instant he realized he was a little bit in love with her. It terrified him, but he couldn’t have changed the direction of the night now if he’d wanted to. His body ached with needing her. For days now he had wanted to know the feel of her beneath him, the scent of her surrounding him. He wondered how he could possibly last until they got to her apartment.

He did it by avoiding all contact with her, not even a hand on her elbow as she got out of his car or the most fleeting caress of her cheek. He knew that the tiniest spark could ignite a fire inside him that would rage until it burned itself out in her arms.

Her apartment was not at all what he’d expected. Except for the books scattered everywhere, it was bland and uninteresting. Mallory noted his surprised expression.

“Awful, isn’t it?”

“It’s just not you. It
doesn’t have any life to it.”

“Thank you,” she said, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss against his cheek. His arms went around her automatically and he pressed her head into his shoulder. A deep sigh of satisfaction rippled through him, followed by an utter sense of peace. Nothing had ever felt so right before. Despite his fear that he would rush things, he found now that he could wait. There was none of his usual sense of urgency, spawned by a need to get things over with so he could retreat to emotional safety. The desire that was building in him now was a gentler sort, a yearning to discover every nuance of this woman who was so still and quiet and patient in his embrace.

As he might have expected, though, it was Mallory who broke the silence. “You aren’t going to sleep on me, are you, doctor?” she said lightly, her breath whispering past his ear.

He tilted her more intimately against him. “Does that answer your question?”

She wriggled with the slinky sensuality of a cat, and Justin gasped at the shock of pleasure that ripped through him. The blazing inferno wasn’t nearly as far away as he’d thought. “Do that again, and I won’t be able to stand up.”

“Then I suggest we lie down,” she said with the boldness that unnerved him, even as it drew him on.

She turned to lead him into the bedroom, but suddenly hesitant, he halted and stared deep into her eyes, searching for doubts. He saw none in the shining depths, but he asked anyway. “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

“Absolutely,” she said without
hesitation. “What about you?”

The question was startling, and suddenly a part of him wanted to turn and run from this woman. She was giving him every chance to do just that, but freedom, he was discovering, was sometimes the most binding gift of all.

“I’m sure,” he said with more conviction than he felt. He knew that this would be a night from which there might very well be no turning back, but it was an experience he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anything before. He sensed that if he ran, he’d be losing far more than a few hours of passion.

They shed their clothes by moonlight, taking turns so they could enjoy each moment. Mallory turned the undressing into a playful striptease that had him almost panting, his body hot and throbbing with the same urgency he’d been so certain earlier he couldn’t control. He was hanging on now by the slightest thread.

Standing just out of his reach, Mallory was lovely, her pearly skin shimmering in the pale light, her body a rare combination of lush curves and fragility. He moved closer and his fingers trembled as they touched the surprising fullness of her breasts. She was as beautiful as a marble statue of the goddess of love, but her flesh was warm and supple and far more alluring. His tentative touch became strong and sure as he teased her nipples into rigid peaks and drew a ragged groan from her.

His lips followed, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin, tugging gently until she shivered against him and a low moan of pleasure sighed past her lips. Her head was thrown back, baring the slender column of her neck to his marauding mouth. His own muscles were tight with tension as her nails dug into his shoulders and she pulled him to her.

When at last his hands
caressed the satin length of her legs, hesitating for what seemed an eternity on the heated flesh of her thighs, she trembled beneath him.

“Touch me, please,” she urged, her eyes bright and shining as they stared directly into his with frankness and expectancy. “Please.”

After that quiet plea, there was no holding back. His touch glided over her, lingering at places that made her practically purr with pleasure. With each soft gasp, his own excitement increased until his nerves were stretched taut, the muscles in his thighs and buttocks bunched tight.

She opened herself to him then and with a gentle thrust he was inside her, wrapped in her silken heat, swept away on a tide of passion so intense, so violent that he lay spent and shaken in its quiet aftermath. He wanted to weep at the joy of such a magnificent union, yet he trembled, instead, at its implications. Never before had he given himself so completely. Never before had any woman touched his soul.

Never before had he been so afraid.

Mallory curled herself contentedly into the welcoming shelter of his arms and ran her fingers across his damp chest. “There may be hope for you yet,” she said with a tiny sigh of satisfaction.

“Really,” he said with a touch of wry humor. “In what way? I thought this was pretty spectacular just the way it was.”

“Exactly,” she agreed, her gaze
locked with his. “But you’re a little like Davey.”

Justin’s breath caught in his throat as she continued, “Tonight was only the first step.”

“Toward what?”

“Trust.”

Justin sighed and drew her to him. He was startled at the depth of her understanding of him and he prayed she was right.

Maybe this time, he promised himself. Maybe this time, with this woman trust would come.

D
r. Joshua Marshall
was angry. Mallory could tell because his bushy eyebrows were knit together in a frown and he refused to look her straight in the eye. His tone, however, was extraordinarily civil, especially considering that it was barely eight in the morning. Outside the San Francisco fog had been swept away on an early breeze and Mallory had had high hopes for a gloriously happy day. Those hopes had just been effectively dashed.

“We have a problem, Dr. Blake,” Dr. Marshall said in the voice of a man who found the thought of all problems, except those of a psychological nature, distasteful.

Mallory groaned mentally. After the wonderful night she had just spent in Justin’s arms, this was no way to begin a new day, a promising new life. “What can I do to help?” she asked.

“There has been a
complaint.” He made the announcement as though the very possibility of anyone complaining about a member of his staff was extraordinary.

Mallory waited for more. He cleared his throat, put the tips of his fingers together to form a pyramid and stared at the fading print on the wall behind her. He seemed to expect her to guess the rest, but she wasn’t about to play that game.

He cleared his throat again. “Yes, well, there are those who seem to feel you are spending too much time with one of your patients.”

“Those?”
she repeated. “Could you be more specific?”

“Actually, it was the mother of another patient who brought this to my attention.”

“I see. And what is this mother’s objection exactly?”

“She feels you are showing favoritism, that her own child is being neglected while you pursue an avid interest in one particular case.”

“That one particular case being Davey Landers.”

“Yes, I believe that was the name she mentioned.” His gaze had drifted up to study the ceiling tiles, which were yellowing with age and stained by a leak from the water pipes. She knew perfectly well it was not the first time he’d seen them, so there was no reason for his sudden preoccupation with them.

Mallory bit her lip to keep from bellowing at him. She knew that was no way to reach a man who was deaf to anything but subservience. “Dr. Marshall, I’m terribly sorry if someone has complained to you about my conduct, but I assure you that the time I spend with Davey is not taking my attention away from my other duties. My appointments are carefully scheduled and logged. My charts are up-to-date. Beyond his arranged therapy session, I see Davey only on my own time at the end of the day.”

Dr. Marshall took so long to
answer, she wondered if he’d drifted off to sleep. His eyes certainly seemed to be closed. Perhaps he was praying for fortitude. “I see,” he said finally. “Of course, I can’t control what you do on your own time, Dr. Blake, but I must advise you that the appearance of preferential treatment is not good, not good at all.”

He peered at her intently, his brown eyes shining through the thick lenses of his glasses. “I hope you understand what I’m saying.”

“I think I do, Dr. Marshall.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “Then we’ll say no more about the subject.” He began straightening the already tidy piles of paper on his desk. Clearly, he considered her dismissed. She didn’t budge.

“Yes, we will say more, sir,” Mallory contradicted politely, but firmly. His hands stilled, and he blinked at her. She wondered if anyone had ever challenged him before. “I will make every effort to see that none of my patients—or their mothers—feel slighted, but I will not refrain from spending my spare time with Davey. He is in far more desperate shape than the other children here, and I’m going to do everything in my power to help him. If you object to that, you can have my resignation right now.”

Dr. Marshall’s eyes had widened during her outburst. He seemed stunned, probably by the grim prospect of going through another long recruitment process to find her replacement. “Now, now, my dear, let’s not be hasty. I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding. Of course, I want you to do what you think best for the patient.”

“Thank you,” she said and headed
for the door.

“One last thing, though, Dr. Blake.”

“Yes?”

“Try to remember the importance of objectivity. It’s vital in our business.”

Mallory wasn’t absolutely certain, but there seemed to be the faintest suggestion of a smile on Dr. Marshall’s face as she gently closed the door behind her. She had the most peculiar feeling she had just passed some sort of test.

Still, throughout the day, Dr. Marshall’s reminder haunted her. Was she allowing herself to become too involved with Davey? Was it possible that she’d become too protective, almost motherly, rather than thinking as a professional about the hard decisions that had to be made about his future? Her doubts were put to the test later in the day.

She was in Davey’s room late that afternoon listening to his hesitant little voice excitedly describing an outing Justin had promised him, when Rachel came to the door and beckoned to her. She nodded.

“Davey, I’ll be right back. Mrs. Jackson needs to see me for a minute.”

Blue eyes regarded her hopefully. “You will come back?”

“Promise, sport.”

Outside, she discovered a tall, blond woman with the social worker, a woman so slender, polished and sophisticated she made Mallory feel dowdy. Mallory was compelled to remind herself that she was wearing perfectly stylish clothes and didn’t have an ounce of extra flesh on her.

“Mallory, this is Jenny Landers.”

Mallory’s eyes widened
incredulously and her heart thudded to a stop. “Davey’s mother?”

The woman nodded, but didn’t meet her gaze. Guilt and anguish made her face seem old beyond its years. Mallory could read the signs; the woman’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Even now she was probably still struggling to understand how her life had veered so wildly out of control. Mallory tried very hard to reserve judgment, but she found herself wanting to strike the woman on the spot, to inflict some small measure of the pain she’d inflicted on Davey. So much for objectivity!

“She wants to see Davey,” Rachel said as Mallory fought to keep her expression impassive. “What do you think? Protective services said it was fine as long as I got an okay from you and stayed with her. Is he ready to see her?”

Mallory longed to say no. All she wanted was to go back into that room, wrap her arms around Davey and make certain that no harm would come to him, that no bad memories would turn his dreams back into nightmares. He had only mentioned his mother a few times since that first night he’d spoken to Mallory, but each time his voice had quivered. Clearly, just the thought of his mother still terrified him.

Yet Mallory also knew that there would come a time when Jenny Landers and her son might be back together, when the courts would consider the woman well and able to care for Davey again. The healing needed to begin soon, and it was far better for the process to start with Rachel and her present.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Let’s play it by ear, though.” She looked directly into Jenny Landers’s blue eyes, which were so like Davey’s. They were amazingly hesitant, in sharp contrast to her overall appearance, which projected cool self-assurance. If Mallory hadn’t been trained to see beyond the surface, she would never have pegged Jenny Landers as anything other than a lovely, intelligent socialite. It was that veneer that had probably kept her from getting the help she and Davey had needed for so long.

“If Davey seems to be upset by
your visit, I want you to go immediately.”

“I understand,” Mrs. Landers said in a soft, cultured voice that shook ever so slightly.

Mallory went in first. Davey was sitting up in bed, coloring with the crayons she had brought him earlier.

“Davey, there’s someone special here to see you,” she said, wishing she’d had more time to prepare him, more time to assess what his reaction might be. He looked up from the picture and started to lift it to show to her. Then his gaze fell on the woman standing in the doorway behind her and he seemed to withdraw into himself. He shoved the coloring book and crayons away angrily and curled up on his side, his back turned toward them. Mallory put her hand on his arm. Rather than recoiling, this time he took her hand and clung to it.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m going to be right here. Your mom just wants to make sure you’re doing okay.” After a moment Davey rolled over.

Mrs. Landers stepped closer to the bed. She reached out with her hand, then flinched and withdrew it when she saw the look of terror in Davey’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper and ragged with emotion. “Please, try to understand. I never meant to hurt you. Could I stay for a little while?”

Davey’s gaze shot to Mallory
for reassurance. At her nod, he sighed and visibly relaxed. Jenny Landers seemed to take that as permission to stay. She sat next to the bed and talked to him softly, fighting against tears the whole time. Mallory almost felt pity for her as she watched. The woman was trying very hard to make things right again, and Davey wasn’t responding at all. Eventually, he turned on his side and closed his eyes, effectively shutting his mother out. It was impossible to tell whether he was asleep or only feigning.

The tension in the room was palpable, and the feeling was so intense that it seemed they’d been there an eternity. But only a short time had passed, while Jenny Landers stared helplessly at her motionless son before Justin strode through the door. From the violent look in his eyes, it was clear he’d already heard about Davey’s visitor.

Justin took in the scene with a single, sweeping, furious glance, but before he could blow up, Mallory signaled to him, her face a mask of desperation. Only an extraordinary amount of willpower kept him from screaming at the lot of them, especially Mallory. What could she possibly have been thinking of to allow this to happen?

She came to his side, reaching out to him, then drawing back when she saw his expression. “Please,” she whispered as he glared at her. All of the powerful, happy feelings of the night before abruptly vanished.

“Don’t upset Davey. Don’t let him see how angry you are,” she pleaded. “He’s handling this okay, and she’ll be gone soon.”

Justin swallowed the
tirade he’d been planning all the way upstairs from the surgeons’ lounge, where he’d been when one of the nurses had phoned him to tell him what was happening. Rage had overwhelmed him and sent him racing through the halls. His only thought was to protect Davey, to be there to reassure him. Never once had he considered the possibility that Mallory might already be present, that she might actually have condoned the visit.

With his fists clenched at his sides, he tried to understand the feeling of betrayal that swept through him upon discovering that Mallory was here. Over the past couple of weeks, especially after last night, he’d been starting to trust her, just as Davey had finally begun to reach out to him. In conspiring with Rachel to arrange this outrageous meeting between Davey and the mother who had repeatedly harmed him physically and emotionally, she had let them both down.

He gazed at Mallory and found he could hardly bear to look at her. It was as though he’d never seen her before, never realized the duplicity of which she was capable. At the same time, his body yearned for a repeat of her touch, for the comfort, gentleness and passion he’d found in her arms and in no one else’s. His uncontrollable reaction only infuriated him more.

“I’ll be outside,” he said tersely and stormed out of the room. He wanted to leave the hospital, to pound on the walls, to throw things, but he didn’t. He forced himself to remain in case Davey needed him.

He paced for what seemed like hours, but it was only a short time later when Rachel and Jenny Landers came out of the room. Rachel cast a troubled glance in his direction, then hurried on with Davey’s mother. It was another ten or fifteen minutes more before Mallory came into the hall and stood defiantly before him like an unrepentant child.

“Okay, Justin. Let’s have it,” she challenged. “I know you’re just dying to tell me what a traitor I am.”

At the sight of her facing
him so spiritedly, as determined and beautiful as ever, all the fight drained out of him. “Just tell me why you did it.”

“Justin, I didn’t want to at first, but I had no choice.”

“We always have a choice.”

“Not this time. This was something that had to happen sooner or later. The courts would have insisted on it.”

Fury raged through him all over again. “And you support the system above all else, is that it?” His angry gaze swept over her disdainfully. “It was the damn system that allowed this to happen to Davey in the first place. Are you planning to send him back to his mother the minute he’s well enough to withstand another beating?”

“It’s not my decision.”

“That’s a cop-out and you know it.”

“No, it’s not. It isn’t my decision. The courts will decide.”

“Mallory, come off it. You’re a professional. Fool that I am, I allowed you on this case. You know perfectly well you will be asked to make a recommendation.”

Mallory sighed heavily. “Possibly. If that happens, I’d have to know a lot more than I know now before I could decide what to say.”

“What’s to know? The woman has been
abusing that child for months, probably years. Do you honestly expect her to stop now?”

“With counseling, it’s possible,” she said, stubborn to the end.

“You blasted shrinks are all alike, aren’t you? You accused me once of being arrogant. What about you? Are you so sure that you or any other psychologist has the power to turn someone’s behavior around so completely? Are you going to risk that boy’s life to find out if the therapy has worked?” He shook his head. Her betrayal seeped into him and filled him with sorrow. “I don’t understand how you could do this,” he said wearily. “Especially after last night. Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

“One thing has nothing to do with the other.”

“Of course it does. It all has to do with trust. You said that yourself. You said you were on Davey’s side. I believed you.”