Dr. Destiny

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.’’