Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance) (7 page)

He moved in closer, until his palms rested on either side of her head and his face descended, then stopped scant inches from hers. His breath, warm and fragrant, fanned her even warmer face.

"Maybe Loren doesn't trust me."

"Even Loren knows I should be safe with a minister."

"I'm also a man." Reaching around the frame, he switched off the porch light. They were suddenly cloaked in darkness. And in that darkness she felt the pressure of his thumbs rotating slowly against her temples. "A minister might be safe, Dee, but don't overestimate the protection my profession affords you. I have only so much restraint, and last Sunday exhausted a good deal of my supply."

There was a distinct edge of warning in his softly spoken words. An unexpected flavor of danger relayed itself in the increasing pressure of his massage. Running for her life had sent her to the most remote town she could find, so yes, she was well acquainted with the adrenaline rush of fear. But her too-rapid heartbeat was closer to a forbidden thrill.

"You're breathing fast," he whispered. "Wonder why?"

"Are you going to kiss me?"

His low chuckle was a seductive rumble. "It's all I've been able to think about since the last time I saw you."

"You didn't act like it tonight."

His fingertips stroked up her throat, then framed her jaw.

"I can act like a lot of things, and one of them's not being a minister—especially since it's the shorter of my careers. Make that callings."

"You mean that you haven't always pastored a church?"

"I have a college degree in philosophy, another degree from a seminary. And yes, I've pastored a church before this. But I've spent more time in other pursuits. Curious yet?"

"Very. Tell me, who
is
Matthew Peters?"

"If you really want to know, tell me more about Dee Sampson," he said softly. "Where does she come from, why is she here, and what's in her past that brings her to the present... on a front porch waiting for, rather than taking, a kiss from me? Did some man teach you differently, Dee?"

"What man?" she asked quickly, her guard rising.

"You tell me. There was a man, wasn't there? My guess is he's one who liked to call the shots, and didn't appreciate a woman who strikes me as independent but alone. An intriguing woman I want to know much better. A deal. Dee. Tell me about you and I'll return the favor equally."

Dee stiffened, suddenly aware of the potential foolishness of acting on her desires. Matt had lulled her into a sense of security and she'd heedlessly thrown caution to the wind. His words hit too close to home. Did he know Nick? Or Vince? The two men who'd ruled her life had contacts that extended to politicians, law officials, even coroners. A minister—who admitted to pursuing other endeavors and didn't fit the stereotype—wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

"You go first, Matt. Who
are
you?" she demanded.

"A man. A man with a mission who's made mistakes along the way and doesn't want to foul things up with you. Now it's your turn. Turnabout is fair play, and ministers are inclined to like things fair, you know."

He liked things fair? Did he actually consider tracing her lips with the faintest brush of the tip of his tongue and gliding his chest like a whisper over her breasts
fair
? She didn't believe he was Vince's man; her sharpened instincts for survival said he was not. What they did say was that the Matt beneath the clergyman's cloth could be far more hazardous than Sunday's encounter had let on.

She began to edge away. "I think I'd better go in."

"I think not." He deftly trapped her between his braced arms. "Tell me, is running away a habit of yours?"

"No more than bribing is yours," she shot back. "And as for running, that was quite a dash you made out of church to get me home. You make me uneasy, Reverend, the way you change colors faster than clothes."

"Ah, nice volley. But since you put it back in my court, I'll explain, which is more than I'm getting from you. The truth is, I was trying to give you the space you wanted last Sunday. I was afraid you thought I used my position to take advantage of yours. But if anyone was taking advantage tonight, it was you."

"I was not!"

"No?" His fingertips scaled her ribs, then cinched her waist. "Somehow I couldn't help but notice the way you kept bending over after making sure I was watching. Quite an eyeful you gave me in that short skirt. Really, Dee, trying to tempt a minister like that, actually enjoying yourself at my expense. Do you think I'm so holy that I haven't imagined a dozen ways I'd like to make you pay up?"

"What I think is that this game is over."

"Game over? It never was a game, Dee. At least, not for me." His face was a hair's breadth away from hers, and his hips were so close his legs would be straddling her own if he moved an inch toward her. "Do you still want that kiss?"

Did she still want that kiss? More than ever— and that was the danger, because, as she was beginning to realize, Matthew Peters didn't flirt or play games and he had more facets than a gem-stone. She turned her head to the side, saying, "What I want is a reason for your still being here."

"That's simple. I like you. I care about you. In fact, I care enough to risk showing you a side of my human nature that few people see." His arm brushed hers as he reached for the switch. Dee blinked against the sudden light. And then she blinked against Matthew's impassioned gaze. "You're awfully quiet now. Cat got your tongue, Dee?" he whispered. "Lucky kitty, if he does."

Her jaw went slack. Her tongue danced against her teeth. And her mind did contortions trying to sort him out. What kind of a man could say such things at the same time his eyes softened and his lips pressed gently against her forehead?

If she didn't stop him now, she feared he might work his way down. She put a palm to his chest and pushed.

"Back off, Matt... please." Much to her disappointment, he did. He turned to leave but unwisely, she didn't want him to go and caught his arm. "I don't understand you. And as much as I wish that I did, I'm not certain I should."

"There's a lot I wish I understood too, Dee. Like where you've been and where we're going. Be glad that I'm searching for answers rather than demanding them and making you lose more faith."

"I suppose you mean faith in my fellow man?"

"Exactly. You admitted yours was shaken, and if you really want to grasp where I'm coming from, ask yourself this: How many men would expose their true concerns and flaws before taking a kiss or more from that luscious mouth of yours? Think about it, Delilah."

She did. Battling against her confusion and the arousal he'd summoned without so much as a kiss, she did think.

"Not many," she finally admitted.

"I'm glad you realize that. Just be aware that I'm not always as admirable as I strive to be."

"Is that a warning. Rev. Peters?"

"It is. I want you to trust me, and for that reason I'd best keep my distance until you can."

He removed her firm grip on his arm, then kissed her hand in a way that was sweet, almost courtly—until she felt the flick of his tongue and the graze of teeth against knuckles. She drew in a sharp breath, and her inner thighs quivered. When he briefly pressed his hips against hers, she felt the straining in his pants.

"See what I mean?" he said, then turned around and left. She stared after him even as he disappeared into the darkness.

Dee saw exactly what he meant. Matthew Peters, a man of inner strength and apparently a few secrets of his own, deemed it wise to keep his distance because he didn't trust himself.

Which only made her trust him that much more.

Chapter 5

Was something wrong? She'd asked him on the porch Wednesday night. Was something wrong? Hell, yes, something was wrong! When he spent Saturday afternoon on his motorcycle tearing up the road instead of preparing the next morning's sermon, something was definitely wrong.

Gravel spewed in the wake of Matthew's tires as he leaned into a sharp curve. He hadn't taken his two-wheeled baby for this kind of spin since he left his biker gang more than six years earlier. They still kept in touch, though, and had a loose date for next spring. He couldn't help but imagine what kind of reception fifty motorcycles and their tattooed owners would get upon a visit to his church.

A vision of Sally Henderson banging out the doxology over the roar of engines and old Maude choking on a hymn while the bikers filed down the aisles left him howling with laughter.

He needed to laugh. If he laughed, maybe he could keep from thinking about Dee and the internal havoc he was wrestling with. As it turned out, even laughter didn't help.

Two steps forward, three steps back with her. He was feeling the beat, but it beat the hell out of him how to guide the speed. Was it him, he wondered. Was he still so burned out from the homeless mission that he was screwing up somehow, making the wrong calls, or, worst of all, misreading her role in his life?

Was Dee the one he'd been waiting for? Was that why just the thought of her caused his blood to rush, his head to spin, and his heart to flip-flop? He'd indulged in many affairs during his break from the ministry, but they'd only met his physical needs and nothing else.

Slowing his mad race to a Sunday ride and then a halt, he parked his cycle beside a deserted road, then sat beneath an old maple tree.

A cornfield stretched endlessly across the graveled street. His past seemed to stretch just as endlessly behind him. And the future? It was infinite, full of possibilities and pitfalls when he craved certainties and absolute answers.

"Look," he said, gazing up to the sky, "last Sunday was a real treat, even if it was a little hard on the moral check and balance system. But Wednesday was a sure sign I'm dangerously short in the control department. Quite frankly, these past few days have been the devil. I'm getting uncomfortably toasty just thinking about facing that front pew tomorrow."

Matthew shut his eyes and listened. At least he tried to listen. With all the mayhem going on in his head, he was having trouble hearing. Or maybe he simply didn't want to take the chance of being called on the carpet for what he'd been thinking.

With a weary sigh he looked around him, drawing strength from the beauty that the Lord had made. Well, He'd made him too, with a little help from his parents. Only Matthew didn't want to think about them any more than he wanted to keep going over the situation with Dee. He did anyway.

He was human. He was a man. One who was trying to juggle his calling and responsibilities and earthy nature which had never asserted such a fierce hold.

Had he ever lusted? Many times. Had he ever indulged temptation's offerings? Oh, yes. Only to regret it because he'd felt reduced, more isolated in his path, and yearning for what was lasting, deep, and real.

Lasting. Deep. Real. Such were the kind of problems he intuited Dee faced. He was in a position to help her, whatever form that took. And yet, how could he act effectively as counselor while he was aching with the need to have her?

Truth? He wanted sex with her. Get-down, hot and heavy, any way the imagination could conceive,
sex.
He wanted it bad. He wanted it good. He wanted more.

To honor her body and join their spirits. To win her trust and for once in his life have someone
he
could confide in and draw strength from when the burden became too heavy. A soulmate on earth he could turn to so he'd have more than prayer as a companion.

The sun was dipping low in the sky when Matthew unzipped his light jacket and withdrew a well-thumbed Bible. He touched the treasured inscription on the first page.

For
Matthew. Our son and God's. We've always been proud of you but never prouder than on this day of your graduation from the seminary. We thank you for sharing your life with us as you do so generously with others. May peace and love always be yours. Dad and Mom.

Matthew shook his head. In the near decade that had passed since he'd received this, his parents had had cause to retract their words. Peace and love had not always been his after all.

Earnestly, he began searching the thin, delicate pages for what peace he could find.