“I did. But I couldn’t get rid of this picture. I just…couldn’t.”
So he had meant something to her. Ash tried to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. It didn’t mean anything, it really didn’t. He slid an arm around her waist, drawing her back more firmly against him. “I started reading that book, you know. Thought I’d educate myself.”
She relaxed into his arms. “Really? Why? I didn’t think you liked reading all that much.”
“A man can change, sugar. I wanted to see what you liked so much about it.”
“Ah. Did you get any insights then?”
“Well, I’m only halfway through and I think Heathcliff needs therapy. Also, Cathy’s crazy.” He said it mainly to make her laugh, and she did. “And for another…” He stopped, the tightness in his chest gathering even tighter. “Love is a pretty powerful force.”
“Yes, it is.” She put her hands on his knees on either side of her, an affectionate caress. “I think that’s why I related to the book so much. Mom never dealt with love, only sex. Love was almost a dirty word. But reading that book…” She hesitated. “Then when you came along it was like…I discovered love for the first time.”
The constricted feeling moved up from his chest, into his throat, choking him.
He should never have come here. He should never have left the stupid house.
They had to leave. Right now. Otherwise he didn’t know what he would do. He opened his mouth to tell her it was time to go but then she turned in his arms, her eyes looking up into his, a strange look on her delicate features. “Ash,” she said hesitantly, “I…I’m having a wonderful time. Thank you. Thank you for the whole week. And most especially thank you for bringing me here.” She hesitated again. “You know when I said that after I go back home, we’d end this? Well—”
“Hey, Mommy. That man looks like Zac Angel.” The child’s voice interrupted Lizzie with piercing clarity.
Zac Angel was the name of his most famous character, in Back for More.
Both of them looked and saw a little boy standing not far from them, the family he was with also staring.
Relief flooded through him, thick and hot, and Ash grabbed the moment while he could. “Come on, Lizzie-girl,” he said. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
…
Lizzie found herself hauled up from the sand before she’d even had time to process what had just happened. Actually, come to think of it, what had just happened?
The sand was soft beneath her feet, Ash’s fingers holding her hand tightly as they began to make their way back to the pier. Behind her she could still hear that little boy talking. “It was him, Mom. You saw, right? You saw him.”
People were turning to look in their direction, interested.
Yes, she’d been about to tell Ash something. Tell him that she was beginning to think she wanted more than just two weeks. That maybe if he wanted her to stay a while longer, she wouldn’t be averse to the idea.
Because she wasn’t. Spending that precious hour with him, wandering around the pier, walking on the sand and eating ice cream, revisiting that date of long ago, had made her remember that it hadn’t been only about sex with Ash. She liked spending time with him, too, talking about everything or nothing as the mood took them, with no pressure to do more.
Until that kid had interrupted them.
Ash had pulled his cap down low, moving through the crowds still unhurried but with more purpose than they had before.
“Oh my God,” someone exclaimed. “That kid was right. I think it’s Ash Kincaid.”
“That woman’s familiar, too,” someone else said. “Where have I seen her before? Wasn’t she on some kind of reality show?”
Ash cursed, his hand tightening on hers as adrenaline burst through her, his mirrored shades turning toward her. “You okay?”
Oh, hell. People weren’t only recognizing him. They were recognizing her, too. And it would only be a matter of time before they figured it out. Misty Dawn’s daughter. The press would call her, wanting interviews, wanting to know what she was doing now, why she was with Ash, what their relationship was. And it would turn into a furor because of their history.
They’d never leave her alone. God, it would put the clinic under the microscope so soon after the leak, and that was the last thing Helen needed. Maybe it would even mean she’d have to leave. And if she left, where would she go? What hospital would want that kind of publicity trailing its staff?
Lizzie went cold. She didn’t want that one TV episode to be the defining moment of her entire existence. She wanted to be known for more than that. She wanted to help people. To be the best damn nurse LA had ever seen.
It was the only thing that made her feel worth anything at all.
That and Ash.
Yes, he did. But how could they have more time together? When going out and being recognized, having the press in your face every single day, would be a constant pressure?
She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t.
Lizzie tried not to look as sick as she felt. “No one’s ever spotted you, huh?”
“I guess I need to amend that.”
“I guess you do.”
She tried to swallow back the panic. Surely no one would care about her. They only wanted to see him. It would be okay, it would be fine.
He said he’d protect you.
Yeah, he had said that. Now it was time to trust that he would.
More people were starting to turn and look in their direction. A girl lifted her phone and took a picture. A man pointed toward them and turned to say something to the woman he was with.
Lizzie was very aware of being trailed as they made their way back to where Betty was parked, more and more people beginning to turn and look in their direction.
“Ash,” she said thickly as they got to the bike, a small crowd starting to gather.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Ash murmured. “Don’t panic.” He picked up the helmet and slid it down over her head. She wanted to protest because it was hot but then realized that with the helmet on no one would see who she was.
“Get on the bike. I’ll deal with the people.”
There was a crowd behind him now. “Mr. Kincaid? Hey, Ash,” someone called. “Can I get an autograph, please?”
Ash turned, his broad, powerful back right in front of her. Shielding her from the crowd. “Sure you can,” he said easily. “But can you all take a step that way? You’re crowding my friend here.”
Much to her amazement, all the people did exactly what he said, responding to the innate command in his voice, shuffling a few steps.
“Great,” he went on, talking with absolute authority. “Now, an orderly line behind this guy here, please. And don’t push, you’ll all get one. Okay, so has anyone got a pen?”
A pen was produced from somewhere and soon he was signing random bits of paper, T-shirts, one woman’s arm, an excited kid’s baseball cap, the strap of some tourist’s camera. Lizzie watched from the bike, safely unnoticed with her helmet on, as he interacted with his fans, chatting and answering questions. There was no arrogance to him, his manner natural, as if he were talking to a bunch of old friends. And when people asked him something that he didn’t want to answer or was too personal, he deftly turned the conversation back on the people who’d asked him, getting them to talk about themselves instead.
Either he’d had some expert publicity training or he was a natural at dealing with people. She kind of thought it was natural.
Unfortunately, though, the small crowd around the bike soon began to draw more people curious to see what the fuss was about. Out of the corner of Lizzie’s eye, she saw a guy holding a camera looking toward them, talking rapidly into his mobile phone. Paparazzo.
“Ash?” She put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “I think there’s—”
“I see them,” he said quietly cutting her off. “Time we got out of here, huh?” He signed a last couple of autographs then said apologetically to the crowd,
“Sorry guys, I gotta go. Promised to get my friend home. Can you give us some room?”
Once again the people all moved as Ash put on his helmet and got on Betty. Lizzie put her arms around him and held on as he started the engine and powered out of the parking lot. Relief made her dizzy. She pressed her helmeted head against his back, her heart still thundering in her chest.
No one would know who she was. No one had even asked. And they’d gotten away before the paparazzi could gather. It was okay.
Ash must have decided on a different way to his place because they didn’t go the way they’d come. It took longer and was more circuitous, but no one followed them. Yet as they neared Ash’s place, the bike slowed, Ash pulling off to the side of the road. She soon saw why. There were a bunch of cars parked outside his driveway and people milling all around.
“Shit,” he said in a low voice. “They got here fast. Damn Internet.”
Lizzie swallowed. If they wanted to get to his place they were going to have to run the gauntlet and she wasn’t sure she could cope with that.
“We could go to my apartment,” she suggested hesitantly. “Wait it out there.”
“Good plan. Let’s do that.”
Ash didn’t wait. He hauled Betty around and took off down the street before anyone could spot them.
Twenty minutes later they arrived at her apartment building, mercifully paparazzi-free, and there was a brief moment of panic when she thought she’d left her keys back at Ash’s. But then she found them lurking way down the bottom of her purse, thank God.
But it was only when she was finally inside and the door was shut that the tension began to slowly relax inside of her.
Ash put down their helmets on the coffee table, then turned to take her hands in his. They felt so warm, which must mean that hers had gone cold.
“Hey, you’re white,” he said, chafing her fingers gently in his. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Her mouth had gone dry.
His fingers curled around hers, holding on tight. Dark eyes searching her face. “Would it really be so bad if they recognized you?”
“You know it would. The days after that episode screened… My life went to hell. I got hassled unmercifully at school, those damn cameras followed me wherever I went, and Mom… Mom didn’t even care. Do you know what she said? She said she was proud of me for following in her footsteps.” She took a shuddering breath. “Like the fact that my privacy was destroyed didn’t even matter. And now…that anonymity and my job…I don’t want to be remembered as the porn star’s daughter, Ash. Because… Oh, God, what if that’s all I’ll ever be?”
Ash let her hands go and suddenly his arms were sliding around her, pulling her close. Holding her tight to the warm strength of his body. “You’re more than that, Lizzie,” he said. “You’ve always been more than that. You left and carved a life for yourself from nothing. That takes strength. That takes guts and determination, and passion. You’ll never be remembered only for that because you won’t let the world do that to you.” He bent his head, his breath brushing her ear. “You’re strong and you have more than enough courage to cope with anything, even the media.”
Lizzie leaned her head against his chest and put her hand on him, feeling the hard muscle beneath this T-shirt. So much strength and power. Gentleness, too. “I don’t know. Sometimes I can believe that. When you say it, I do.” She tilted her head back, looked up at him. “You can make me believe it.”
A strange expression crossed his face, one she didn’t understand, but she didn’t care because then his head bent and his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her. A gentle taste to reassure her.
But she didn’t need reassurance. She needed him.
Because now she knew with absolute certainty that there was no point thinking about having more time. Thinking about exploring what more they could have.
The near miss with the press had only highlighted how woefully underprepared she was for any kind of exposure. She couldn’t do it. Which meant she couldn’t do it with him.
After his treatments were done, she’d be gone.
Lizzie lifted her hand from his chest, tangled her fingers in his black hair, holding him in place as she kissed him harder, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss.
He made a soft growling sound, his arms around her tightening. “You want me, sugar?” he murmured against her mouth.
“Yes,” she panted out, not even bothering this time to hide how much. She didn’t have long with him and now she’d take what she could get while she could get it. “I want you so badly, Ash.” He’d always made it plain how much he wanted her, and right now she wanted to reciprocate.
“Show me how much.”
So she did, kissing him harder, deeper. Feverishly. The need for him filling her up like sunlight filling up a dark room. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, exploring him, tasting him. Sliding her fingers under his T-shirt up so she could stroke all that hard muscle, trace the dips and hollows of his abs, the powerful lines of his pectorals.
“That’s it,” he said roughly as she let one hand go lower. “Show me how much you want me.”
Her fingers brushed the fly of his jeans, moving down the long, hard length that pressed against the denim, tracing the outline of it. He made another rough, hungry sound so she did it again, the ache between her thighs growing.
“Oh, sugar,” he murmured. “That feels so good. Keep doing that.”
But it wasn’t enough. For too long she’d been letting him take the lead. Letting him take the initiative. Perhaps it was time she got over herself and showed him exactly what he made her want to do.
Lizzie dropped to her knees in front of him and began to undo his fly.
“Hey,” he said thickly. “You sure you want to be doing that?”
She glanced up at him. His eyes were glittering hungrily, the look on his face raw with desire. He’d always wanted her, had never hidden how badly. Now was the time to show him that she wanted him, too.
“I’m sure.” She pulled open his fly, reached into his boxers, drew out the rigid length of his erection. “I want you. Everything about you.”
“Lizzie…,” he whispered, the word ending in a sharply indrawn breath as she licked him.
She’d never gone down on a guy before. She’d never wanted to. But he’d always been different. Always. And now all she wanted was to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her. Once, when she’d been fifteen, she’d overheard a group of her mother’s friends—her mother had mercifully been absent—talk about the best methods to give a man head. She hoped she remembered it right because right now, she wanted to give him the best damn experience he’d ever had.
Lizzie opened her mouth, took him inside. She heard him groan, felt his hands tangle in her hair, holding on. She’d always thought being on her knees in front of man would be kind of degrading. Had always thought that the things her mother’s fellow actresses said about feminine power was a crock. Something the industry told them to make them feel better about their tawdry jobs.
But there was nothing degrading about kneeling in front of Ash and giving him pleasure. Nothing tawdry. And when she looked up into his face, saw him throw his head back, the cords of his neck taut as she moved her mouth on him, she felt powerful in a way she never had before.
His fingers tangled tighter in her hair as she took him deeper. “Oh, Lizzie…,” he said in a voice that was rough and raw. “That feels so good.”
She closed her eyes, gripping him in one hand, licking him, then sucking hard, losing herself in the taste and the feel of him, salty and hot. His fingers clutched her hair even tighter and the little prickles of pain that broke over her scalp only pushed her own need higher. A growl broke from him and she loved the sound of it. Loved that she could do this to him. Push his control the way he pushed hers.
Yet all too soon, she felt him tug her head away. “No. I want to be inside you,” he demanded harshly. “Right now.”
/> Oh, right. He thought he was calling the shots, huh? Not today. No, today he was going to lie there and take it. Today the shots were hers to call.
She rose to her feet, keeping her grip on the hot, rigid length of his shaft. Looked straight up into his dark eyes. “You want it? Then get on the couch.”
There was a flush to his cheeks, a stark, hungry look on his face. “You wanna be in charge? Is that how it’s going to work now?”
“Yeah, that’s how it’s going to work.” She squeezed him gently, hearing his breath catch.
“I don’t know what’s hotter. You in charge or you holding my cock.”
“Just get on the couch and stop talking.”
Slowly he began to back away over to the couch and she went with him, still holding him. The sense of power grew and along with it satisfaction that he was doing what she said, that she held one of the most vulnerable parts of him in her hand and he was letting her.
“Sit,” she said, releasing him.
He did, sinking down on the couch, his dark eyes on hers. God, he was so hot, sitting there aroused with his jeans open, a hungry, almost feral glitter in his eyes.
Mine.
The thought caught her hard in the chest, the rightness of it instinctive, primal. Yes, this man was hers. He’d always been hers. She’d run from him once before because she couldn’t handle him or her own feelings. But now the time for running was over.
He was hers. He’d claimed her and now it was her turn to claim him.
Lizzie held out her hand. “Condom.”
Ash shifted, sliding a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and dragging out his wallet. “You’re lucky I’ve got one.”
“No, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You’re going to be the lucky one.”
His smile held an edge of savagery to it. “I think I like you like this, Lizzie-girl. But don’t get too carried away. I’m not a guy who takes orders all the time.” He took out the condom and put it in her hand.
“Today you will,” she said. “Today you’re going to take my orders.”
“And why am I going to do that?” His eyes followed the movement of her hands as she ripped open the condom packet.
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