He and Harry would still laugh when she left, but they’d miss her.
She’d come back for visits.
Or…she could stay longer, couldn’t she?
If he asked her to.
A frown built up inside him. He shook it off to focus back on their conversation. ‘Does that mean you’re going to advise Emmy…?’
‘That you’re the right person to adopt Harry?’ Their eyes met and held. ‘Yes, it does.’
Unaccountably, his eyes prickled and burned. He had to haul in a breath and hold it for a moment before he could trust himself to speak. ‘Thank you.’
‘You don’t need to thank me.’
Yes, he did.
‘And, Liam?’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re killing my hand.’
He relaxed his grip immediately, grimacing an apology.
Her eyes hadn’t left his. ‘You do know the final decision doesn’t rest with me, but with Emmy?’
‘Yes.’
Her gaze abruptly turned skyward. ‘There are some things I need to tell you.’
His stomach clenched. So far she’d avoided talking about Emmy and her reasons for giving Harry up. Was she finally ready to trust him with the truth?
‘Can we have this conversation sitting up?’
He sat up immediately. She followed more slowly. She freed her hand from his and her gaze slid away to the waterfall. He had a feeling, though, that she didn’t really see it.
‘Emmy has made a lot of mistakes in the last few years.’ She turned, her eyes filled with pleading. ‘But I truly believe she wants to make amends for all that.’ She glanced back at the sleeping child.
‘Starting with Harry?’ he asked softly.
‘Yes.’ She moistened her lips. ‘I wanted you to get to know Harry without other things intruding. And I wanted to protect Emmy for as long as I could too. But I see now that Emmy doesn’t need protecting from you, Liam.’
His heart started to expand.
‘A few weeks ago Emmy was arrested on drug charges. It’s not her first offence.’
A shadow of weariness passed over her face. Liam reached out and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. He wanted to spare her having to go into details when they so obviously distressed her. ‘Sapphie, I’m sorry.’
‘She knows jail is no place for a baby. She wants Harry to have a new start in life.’ She paused. ‘And maybe…maybe eventually she’ll find a way to rebuild her own life.’
‘I’ll offer her any support I can,’ he promised.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘I’ll have to go and see her.’
She nodded. ‘I know.’
‘If it does work out—if Emmy agrees that I can adopt Harry—will you stay on for another fortnight? Till Beattie gets back? To help Harry fully settle in at Newarra?’
Her eyes widened. ‘I’d love to.’
She stared at him, her eyes round and her cute little mouth ajar, and he couldn’t help it. He found himself leaning towards her…
He stopped short. He shouldn’t kiss her. She’d been through too much. Kissing her wouldn’t be fair. It would give her all the wrong ideas.
Or the right ones? A voice whispered through him.
‘Liam?’
He swallowed. ‘I…’
She glanced at his lips, and then into his eyes. She didn’t hesitate—she leant forward and placed her lips on his.
Magic! The breath eased out of him. He couldn’t move away, but he was careful not to move in closer, did what he could to avoid full body, skin-on-skin contact. But he couldn’t resist tasting her just this once.
With excruciating slowness, thoroughness, he moved his lips over hers. He wanted to memorise their every line and curve and indentation. He nipped at her bottom lip gently, then ran his tongue over it back and forth, relishing her soft warmth and the sweet heat.
She gasped and he half expected her to draw back, but she didn’t. She pressed her lips more firmly to his, moved them against his just as slowly as he had, and then with alarming seductiveness her tongue traced the line of his bottom lip. His insides turned to molten fire.
He pulled back, his breathing ragged. He deserved to get burned, playing with fire like that!
In one swift motion she was on her knees. She seized his face in her hands and kissed him—open-mouthed. She took him so much by surprise he fell back, and she fell too—sprawling on top of him. His hands went about her waist to steady her, his fingers sliding against her bare flesh. He didn’t have any hope of hiding his arousal. He told himself to put her from him, but his fingers curved against her bare flesh, caressing it instead.
Her eyes widened. She moved against him experimentally. White-hot shafts of need shot through him. ‘I didn’t know it could be like this,’ she whispered, her breath teasing his lips. ‘So…right.’
He tried to open his mouth, tried to make words come out, but before he could her hand snaked up under his shirt to trace the contours of his chest, raking it lightly with her fingernails. ‘I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you all but naked.’
Her artless confession had him gritting his teeth. When she shifted against him again—restless and searching—he rolled her over. He couldn’t think straight when she moved against him like that and—
She arched up into him and he groaned. ‘Sapphie, you have no idea what you’re doing.’
‘I know precisely what I’m doing. I’m trying to seduce you.’ Her hands explored his shoulders, his throat. He stared at the shine on her lips and tried to fight the need surging through him. She cocked an eyebrow, moved beneath him. ‘How am I doing?’
He gulped. ‘Brilliantly. Ten out of ten.’
She smiled—radiant.
‘Sapphie, I—’
She pressed her fingers to his lips. ‘I don’t want to talk about promises or tomorrow, Liam. Can’t I have this one moment in time to find out just how good it can be between a man and a woman? No promises, no tomorrows.’
She wanted him to make love to her? To have a chance to chase some of the shadows from her eyes…? He ached to make love to her—slowly, tenderly, thoroughly. He wanted to show her precisely how good it could be.
‘Please, Liam.’
He couldn’t resist her when she stared at him like that.
‘I didn’t know it could be this…good.’
He trailed a lazy path from armpit to hip, and back again. His hands were gentle, teasing…slow. Satisfaction gripped him when she shivered, when her glorious eyes turned a delicious smoky green.
‘I’ll let you into a little secret,’ he murmured. ‘Neither did I.’
He traced the outline of her bottom lip with his thumb, then tipped her head up for his kiss—warm, tender…right.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SAPPHIE became Liam’s lover. Or perhaps he became hers. She wasn’t sure how one referred to these things. But for the next three days she and Liam made love.
He was so tender, so gentle…so generous. He’d made her feel safe. And then he’d made her feel cherished, beautiful and free.
He’d left for Perth yesterday afternoon, so he could meet with Emmy first thing today. He’d taken photographs with him of Lucas. He’d sworn to Sapphie that he’d break the news of Lucas’s death gently. Not that he’d needed to swear that—she knew he would. She knew he’d treat her little sister with consideration and respect.
He’d promised to broach the subject of Harry’s adoption gently too. He hadn’t needed to promise that either. She’d given him a letter for Emmy—a letter telling her all about Newarra, telling her what a wonderful life Harry could have here. Telling her how much Liam loved Harry already. And vice versa.
She knew it was important that Liam make this trip. Harry’s whole future depended on it. Yet it didn’t stop the yearning from pulsing through her—the yearning to be in his arms, to be pressing her mouth to his skin, sliding her arms around his waist—to be touching and tasting him. The y
earning for him to be here with her, so they could lose themselves in the glory of their lovemaking.
A sigh slipped out of her. Making love… She’d not been afraid. Not with Liam. Not once.
Because you love him.
Her knees promptly gave out, plonking her down to a kitchen chair. Love him?
Harry crawled over and pulled himself up to a standing position, leaning against her knees and patting them. ‘Sapph, Sapph, Sapph.’
She picked him up and cuddled him. ‘Hungry, beautiful boy?’ He snuggled in against her, pulling her heart tight. ‘It must be time for your afternoon nap, mister.’
In a daze, she fixed his bottle and settled him in his cot. She drifted back into the kitchen…made a pot of tea.
Love Liam?
Of course she loved Liam! How could she not? How could a woman resist a man who loved a baby as much as Liam loved Harry? How could she resist a man who was determined to do what was right—not just for Harry, but for her and Emmy too, not to mention his own family?
Liam was confident and capable—a leader—but he was kind too. The combination was lethal. ‘I didn’t stand a chance,’ she murmured out loud. Not after she factored in those broad shoulders and lean hips, that sexy grin and his sheer generosity as a lover.
And to think she’d told him she didn’t want to talk about promises! She did now. She wanted to promise him everything. Had she really said she’d just wanted those moments out of time? No, she wanted for ever. With Liam. She wanted to build a beautiful golden life with him and Harry and whoever else came along and—
She couldn’t have it!
Pain scrunched her chest up so tight she had to hunch over and hug her stomach. Her face crumpled. She couldn’t have that golden life. Liam had said he’d never marry again. And even if he changed his mind…
She started to shake. Once he found out her secret he’d shun her and send her away.
And Sapphie would deserve it. He’d hate her as much as she hated herself, and the realisation tortured her. Even if Liam changed his mind, nothing long-term could ever happen between them. Because of Harry—because she didn’t deserve him—because she didn’t deserve to play such a large role in his life. In fact it would probably be in Harry’s best interests if she just disappeared from his life completely.
She didn’t have the strength to do that.
She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Lingering at Newarra like this, playing happy families, it was all a terrible, deceitful lie. If she stayed, she’d end up hurting the two people she loved the most.
She dragged her hands away. She’d do her best to be a good auntie to Harry. She knew what it was like to grow up without any extended family—she wanted something more for him, something better. But she could never be anything more to him than that.
She forced herself to straighten. She forced the tears back. She didn’t deserve the relief they would bring. She didn’t deserve a decent, honest man like Liam or an innocent like Harry. She’d known that for the last seven years. She’d known that when she’d brought Harry to Newarra. Dreams she’d never been able to fully extinguish had somehow taken seed here and started to blossom, and she’d been silly enough to let herself get swept up in them.
Stupid girl!
She stared at the kitchen clock—tried to make sense of the numbers, of big hands and little hands. Liam would be home soon, and she knew exactly what she had to do.
It was time to stop dreaming.
Liam couldn’t temper the thrill that shot through him when his single-engine Cessna touched down in the gathering dusk at Newarra. In a few more minutes he could sweep Sapphie up in his arms, pull her in close and kiss her until he made her gasp and cling to his shoulders.
He loved the way his kisses made her eyes go smoky and her voice husky. He revelled in her growing confidence and boldness. He’d missed her in his bed last night, and he wanted to lose himself in her softness, her generosity, her…passion as soon as he could.
Passion, he’d started to realise, that had been lacking from his life for far too long.
Rob was waiting for him when he jumped down from the light plane. ‘Hey, boss, thought you might like a lift back to the homestead.’
The airplane hangar was two kilometres from the homestead. In his current mood, Liam felt as if he could sprint them easily enough. One corner of his mouth kicked up. It would be better to conserve his energy for more enjoyable things. ‘Thanks, Rob.’
‘Good trip?’
‘Not bad.’
When they reached the homestead they both nodded and muttered, ‘Night.’ Men of few words. A trip to the city always reminded him why he felt he belonged out here.
His anticipation ratcheted up a notch as he moved towards the house. He pushed open the back door. And…
And…nothing.
Sapphie didn’t race over to him, even though she was in the kitchen stirring something that was bubbling away on the stove and smelt pretty darn good. Normally she’d drop her spoon and rush over to wind her arms around his neck, with a wicked gleam in her eye that would evoke an instant response in him without fail.
He moved towards her, intent on pulling her back against him to press kisses to the nape of her neck and run his hands over her curves until she moaned, but the smile she turned on him stopped him dead.
‘Hey, Liam, you’re back. How was your trip?’
There was something wrong with that smile. ‘The trip was fine.’
‘Sit down. Tea or a beer?’
‘Beer.’ He pulled out a chair and tried to work out what was wrong with her smile. Even the way she walked seemed wrong.
She handed him a beer, checked whatever it was that bubbled away on the stove, then returned to the table to sit opposite him. ‘So, tell me all about it. Did Emmy recognise Lucas from his photograph?’
Was that it? Was she just worried about Harry and Emmy and their futures? He needed to check. ‘Is everything okay here?’
‘Yes, of course.’
He still didn’t get that smile.
‘Well?’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes, Emmy identified Lucas as Harry’s father.’
She leant forward. ‘And?’
‘And she read your letter. That seemed to clinch it. Whatever else you think, she trusts your judgement, Sapphie. She’s agreed to let me adopt Harry.’
‘Oh, I’m so glad!’
She sat back with a smile—a real smile—and that was when it hit him. Those earlier smiles—they’d been fakes. Until tonight, he couldn’t recall Sapphie ever giving a false smile. Not once.
‘The lawyers are onto it as we speak. I need to be assessed by Social Services, and then there’s a twenty-eight-day waiting period after Emmy signs the consent form, but…’ He shrugged. ‘Nobody seems to envisage any problems.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
Her lips still curved upwards, but the reserve had crept back into her face. He worked at keeping his voice even. ‘You want to tell me what’s wrong?’ He could add wariness to that mix now too, he noted.
She jumped up to check the pot on the stove. Again. ‘There’s nothing wrong.’
He had no intention of playing games or pussyfooting around. ‘Are you regretting that we became lovers?’
She stiffened. ‘Of course not!’ But she didn’t turn around.
‘I’m not sure what other conclusion I can come to. At the moment you don’t exactly seem thrilled to see me.’
She replaced the lid on the pot, set the spoon down, and then she turned. She slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. ‘That’s not the impression I meant to give.’
She stayed where she was. He wished she’d come and sit at the table again, where he could reach across and touch her if he needed to.
His chest tightened. Perhaps that was why she stayed where she was.
She swallowed. ‘Liam, I’ve enjoyed our lovemaking.’ One shoulder lifted. ‘I think that’s been fairly obvious. And I know I s
aid no promises, and that we’d just live in the moment, but…’
Her gaze slid away. He went hot all over. Then cold. He wanted to shove back his chair, push out through the door and storm off into the gathering dusk—because, selfish as he was, he knew he didn’t want to hear what she was about to say.
He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone too dry. He knew what she wanted. She wanted some sign, some proof of commitment from him. He couldn’t give it to her. Oh, he doubted she’d mention marriage—at least not yet. But it would be on her mind. His body started to ache as the walls of the trap threatened to close its jaws around him and crush him, suffocate him.
He’d been an idiot, and this served him right. It was what happened when a guy ignored the for ever in a woman’s eyes and simply lived in the moment. He deserved what was about to come. He deserved every recrimination she would hurl at him. But her tears…
She didn’t deserve this. He’d hurt her. She’d made a miscalculation about her feelings and he’d taken advantage of her vulnerability. He should be flogged. Sapphie’s eyes weren’t made for crying. They were made for laughing and dancing. He closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face. He couldn’t lie to her. He’d let her down as gently as he could, but…
‘Liam?’
He opened his eyes and met her gaze.
‘I didn’t know that making love with someone could create such a…an emotional bond with them.’
This was going to be worse than he’d thought. His throat grew so arid he doubted he could speak even if he wanted to.
For a moment she looked so miserable he wanted to go to her and draw her into his arms, rest her head in the crook of his shoulder and tell her everything would be all right.
Only he couldn’t. Because that was a lie.
‘I only realised that today, and I don’t know if it’s a girl thing or not. So…’
She pulled in a breath. Liam held his.
‘It’s time for us to stop.’
He blinked.
‘If we keep going the way we have been I’m going to want more than you’re prepared to give. We both know you don’t want to remarry. And we both know I have my own life in Perth. We need to stop while we still can. I figure it’s possible for lovers to go back to being friends. I hope so, because that’s what we need to do. That way I don’t get hurt, and you don’t feel trapped.’
The Cattleman, The Baby and Me Page 14