If I Can't Let Go (If You Come Back To Me #2)

by BETH KERY

  Surely her instincts were good when it came to him. Their situation may be strange and emotionally volatile…

  But Liam, she trusted.

  She realized she should have been put off by the fact that he’d stopped making love to her, confused by his actions. Instead, she understood his ambivalence about plunging into a love affair, because she shared in it. Somehow, it felt all right to move cautiously.

  At least to sleep on things.

  Besides, it’d be living out a childhood fantasy to spend the night in the Myerson cottage.

  “Okay. I’ll stay,” she said.

  His head swung around.

  “You will? Just like that?” he asked.

  Natalie nodded, thinking of how they’d both just acknowledged how complicated things were between them. And yet, what was life without the occasional risk?

  “Yeah,” she replied, a smile shaping her lips as she registered Liam’s pleased expression. “Just like that.”

  Chapter Ten

  He couldn’t sleep for hours, thinking about the investigation and what he’d learned that day about his father.

  But mostly, he couldn’t find rest because he kept replaying in his mind what had happened in his bed with Natalie earlier—what she’d told him about being made into an outcast by her peers after the accident, the fury he’d experienced at the full comprehension of her suffering…

  What it felt like to hold her in his arms while she shook in pleasure.

  That was definitely the memory that made him lose the most sleep.

  He wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman. The knowledge that she slept just feet away from him both tortured him and calmed him at once. The paradox only made sense in light of his self-doubt. What he’d said to her earlier was true. He really did get an odd sort of satisfaction about Natalie being there in the house with him. His desire to make love to her was equally as strong, as natural and essential as the need to draw breath.

  The truth she’d revealed hurt, though. It made him realize how selfish he was being for saying their pasts didn’t matter. His father had already caused Natalie a lifetime of pain. How fair was it for him to risk hurting her more, all because he couldn’t stop wanting her?

  Might as well face it—Natalie Reyes was a beautiful, desirable woman. She was also unlike any other woman he’d ever been with. She was different…on so many levels. Liam had a feeling how he handled this situation was a test of his character, and he was suddenly afraid he was going to fail.

  His doubt and fear had him tossing and turning until three in the morning. He lectured himself on the necessity for restraint, schooled himself to strike the right note with Natalie between caution and warmth. By the time he fell asleep to the sound of a summer storm, he was sure he’d taken command of his unruly desires.

  He was sure, that is, until he woke up to a room filled with pale gold sunlight, his mind sharp and focused on the target of Natalie resting down the hallway, his body rigid and aching with desire.

  He stood and threw on a pair of jeans. He’d just look at her while she slept. That’s all he planned to do, he promised himself.

  He pushed open the guest room door and saw the empty, made beds. He charged down the hallway.

  Where had she gone? Had she changed her mind about staying with him and walked home?

  Some instinct made him swerve off target and enter the empty upstairs room—George Myerson’s old saloon. For a moment he stood motionless at one of the windows, watching as Natalie paused in the shallows of the lake, gathering her long, unbound hair and restraining it at her neck. Her movements held him spellbound. He recalled how he’d been so entranced by her hands when he’d first seen her dancing on the beach.

  She began to walk deeper into the water. Her rib cage and waist were so narrow, so graceful…such a striking contrast to her feminine hips. He recalled in graphic detail what those curves felt like filling his palms.

  Idiots. All those guys her age must have been witless fools not to see how beautiful she was…how glorious.

  He turned and left the room, determination and desire hastening his steps.

  The dawn-chilled water provided the brisk slap of distraction Natalie required. She’d slept solidly for five or six hours, strangely content in the embrace of the quiet old house. She’d awoken early, though, and fallen prey to her worries.

  Not to mention her memories.

  Those things Liam had whispered roughly in her ear last night while he’d played her flesh like a maestro—illicit things, exciting things…but sweet things, as well.

  So sweet.

  Every recalled word was like a heated touch as she lay there, alone and sweating in bed.

  She’d crept downstairs to find her swimsuit. The frigid lake water would help her to quench the burning in her body.

  It took her a moment to realize that a current had caught her as she swam. She straightened in the water and tried to break free of the push of the flowing undertow while treading water. A cry of frustration left her throat when she realized the current was stronger than she was. She’d been caught in a current a few times and knew she wasn’t supposed to fight it. The force of the water usually diminished after a short span.

  The only problem was, the current was carrying her at a surprisingly fast pace toward the old, jagged breakwater. Natalie saw that a portion of the rock embankment seemed to have fallen during the night. The waves surging fast and furious through the opening in the wall appeared to be what was causing the unusually strong current.

  She remained calm, even as she swooped toward the wall, unable to control her movement except to keep her head above the churning water. She suspected the worst that would happen was a cut or a bruise as her body struck the rocks, but then she’d be able to push off the solid barrier and break free of the current.

  Her concern grew, however, when she felt the fierceness of the flowing undertow as she flew toward the black, slick rocks. They looked sharper the closer she got. An alarm went off in her brain for the first time when another current seemed to join the one that held her prisoner from another direction, increasing the force of the surging water.

  A wave of water splashed into her face, making her sputter for air. She should never have swum alone. Hadn’t she known since she was a child that it was dangerous to do so?

  Distantly, she thought she heard someone calling her name, but the water was rushing around her now. Only frothing water and the black rocks set against a bizarrely benign-looking blue sky existed in her vision. She tried to lift her legs in preparation to catapult off the rocks, but the current held them as if in a vise. Terror pierced her consciousness. Water filled her mouth and she barely had the wherewithal to spit it out as she braced for the crush of the rocks.

  Suddenly hands wrapped around her ribs. For a split second, her motion in the strong current eased and then came to a halt. Water still rushed around her body, but the hands held her in place.

  “Liam,” she sputtered, glancing wildly to the left and seeing him, his head wet and his face rigid with strain. For a frightening second, the current took hold again. She sensed him recoil, and knew he’d hit the rocks, and then they were shooting through the water in the opposite direction of the crumbling breakwater.

  “I was just…an undertow caught me…thought I’d…” She paused, coughing when they came to a stop. He still held her while Natalie treaded water feebly, trying to catch her breath. Liam had sprung them out of the undertow, she realized, by allowing his feet to crash against the breakwater and kicking, propelling himself and grabbing Natalie out of the powerful current.

  After a moment, her breathing became more regular.

  “I’m okay,” she muttered, taking in Liam’s expression fully for the first time. His face was fixed and anxious. “Thank you so much. I thought I could push off the rocks, but the current was so strong. I wasn’t sure I could lift my legs and…”

  “Shh,” he hushed, his hands shifting on her back and wa
ist. “Don’t talk right now. Are you okay? Can you swim, or do you need me to carry you?”

  “No. I’m okay. I can swim.”

  “Show me,” he said, releasing her.

  He treaded water as he watched her, his anxiety so palpable she never thought to argue with him. She began to swim to shore. Every time she turned her head to breathe, she saw him swimming next to her, his face above water. His blue eyes remained pinned to her, so luminous and fierce in the morning sunlight, it made Natalie feel as if she was being accompanied by a sea-dwelling sentinel sent to guard her.

  Her legs felt a little rubbery from fear once they reached the beach, but other than that, she was fortunate enough to be left unscathed. They sat on a large rock together for nearly a minute, neither of them speaking as Natalie’s breath calmed.

  “Thank you, Liam.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he replied gruffly. “I had no idea that breakwater was unsafe. You could have drowned.”

  “But I didn’t.” She reached out and touched his upper arm in reassurance. “I think part of the breakwater crumbled last night during the storm. The waves are especially rough today. The combination must have caused the undertow.”

  “Yeah,” Liam said soberly, his narrowed gaze on the black breakwater. “And to think…I was going to let Brendan and Jenny swim out there.”

  “You wouldn’t have let them swim alone. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone out on my own.”

  “Let’s get you inside,” he said, tight-lipped. He stood and helped her rise. Her hand still felt a little shaky, but Liam’s hold was steady and warm.

  Once they were inside, he handed her an enormous robe and a fluffy towel and urged her toward the guest bath.

  “Take a hot shower. You’re trembling. It must be shock.”

  “I’m fine, really,” she insisted. Still, she followed Liam’s instructions. He looked so worried, she didn’t have the heart to argue.

  In the shower a few minutes later, she had to admit he might have been right about the shock. It wasn’t a chill making her shake. The memory of the strong undertow pulling her seemed more frightening in recollection than it had when she’d been so preoccupied with keeping herself afloat.

  By the time she got out of the hot shower, she felt much steadier. She grinned when she inspected the robe Liam had given her. It was made of dark blue cotton, and still had the tags attached. Natalie wondered if his mother had given it to him as a gift. Whoever had provided it wouldn’t have had a lover’s sensitivity and must not have recognized that Liam wasn’t the type to wear robes and slippers.

  Liam was clearly most comfortable in his own skin.

  A lover’s sensitivity.

  The phrase came back to her as she brushed her teeth. Is that what she possessed toward Liam? A lover’s sensitivity?

  She was in the process of working a tangle out of her long, wet hair when a brisk knock at the door startled her.

  “Can I come in?” Liam asked from the other side.

  “Oh…yes.”

  The door swung open. Natalie gulped when she saw he wore just a pair of dark blue cotton drawstring pants. They hung so low on his narrow hips she couldn’t help but speculate that he wasn’t wearing anything under them. He must have just showered as well; his short, wavy hair was still damp and mussed, and she caught a hint of his fresh, spicy scent.

  He looked so beautiful to her, standing there in the doorway, so present…so vibrant, that the image struck her consciousness like a gong, leaving her entire body vibrating with awareness.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and attempted a smile as she held up a snarled tress and the hairbrush. “It can be a pain sometimes,” she said breathlessly, referring to her hair.

  “Let me.”

  She just stood there stupidly at the sound of the two words. He came behind her and removed the brush from her clutching hand. Natalie watched him in the mirror, but she would have known precisely what he was doing in those taut moments whether she saw him with her eyes or not, she was so keyed in to him. He was a head and a half taller than her, but he bent his neck, bringing his face close, as if he wanted to inhale her scent. He attended to his task with more careful deliberation than a detective handling evidence at a crime scene. She was highly aware of his body ghosting hers as he moved, adjusting himself to the angle of each new tress. Every time he gathered a new bunch of hair in one hand, a fresh ripple of excitement coursed from her skull to her neck to her breasts.

  By the time he detangled the last locks, her entire body was tingling with awareness.

  He set down the brush on the counter, the sound of hard plastic hitting marble seeming unnaturally loud in the still room. Without speaking, he gently gathered the damp tresses in his hands, smoothing each hair away from her face. Distantly, Natalie realized there was no veil for her scars, no glasses, no dim light, not even her hair to cloak her.

  She didn’t care. She was too enthralled with the image of Liam’s eyes—how could they look so fierce and so tender at once? She thought for sure her heart would swell past the capacity of her rib cage when he began to slowly wind the thick tail of her gathered hair around one large hand. His palm turned and turned, the dark brown, sleek skein wrapping around his hand and wrist. The movement hypnotized her.

  He finally stopped when his hand was against her nape. Natalie stood there, expectant…breathless. He tugged slightly and her head fell back an inch. Their eyes met in the mirror.

  “I was a fool,” he said.

  “When?”

  “For not finishing what we started last night.”

  Her lower lip trembled, but her eyes never wavered from his stare.

  “You…you won’t regret it?”

  He pulled again with his hand, very gently, until she backed against the length of his body. She could feel him perfectly through the thin fabrics covering their nakedness. He lowered his head so that his breath tickled her exposed ear when he spoke.

  “I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.” His eyes found hers in the mirror again, hot and entreating. “Tell me you trust me. I need to hear it.”

  “I trust you,” she replied without hesitation.

  “I might be acting selfishly.”

  “If you are, so am I, because I want you so much it hurts,” she whispered.

  He released her hair and turned her, his arms surrounding her. He claimed her with his kiss…ravaged her…cherished her.

  He did all of that and more, and Natalie reciprocated with her own brand of desire unleashed.

  She moaned into his mouth when he placed his hands on her buttocks and lifted her, raising her to his kiss. Her legs encircled his hips, her heated blood and melting flesh making the intimate gesture seem as natural as breathing. She clung to his shoulders when he moved, their kiss continuing, their hunger mounting.

  He took her to his room and laid her on the bed, sitting beside her. His mouth moved, detailing the line of her jaw, sipping at her parted lips. His long fingers gently caressed her neck and collarbone, creating an anguished sense of anticipation to build in her.

  “Liam,” she murmured, longing roughening her voice. She encircled him with her arms, her fingers running over sleek, dense muscle gloved in thick skin. She pressed her palms flat against his lower back, one hand on either side of his spine, and slid her fingers beneath the elastic band of his pajama bottoms. He groaned at the caress and shifted his weight, coming down next to her on the mattress. It was the license she needed.

  Her hands lowered. She held curving, dense muscle and molded it to her palms.

  Liam made a strangled sound and his hand flew to the sash of her robe. He made short work of loosening it as he pressed quick, hot kisses to her neck and ear. His whiskers occasionally scraped her sensitive skin, making her shiver with pleasure, but his warm, gifted lips always followed to soothe her.

  He lifted his head and watched himself part the fabric of her robe. She caught a glimps
e of his rigid features before he lowered his head, pressing his mouth to her belly. She gasped, her hands flying to his head, her fingers twining in his thick, damp hair. His hands smoothed down the sides of her torso, pausing in the caress to lift her to his mouth. His head moved. He covered her belly and ribs with burning kisses and small, tender bites that left her gasping and her flesh tingling.

  Natalie felt herself melting into the mattress, melting beneath Liam’s stroking hands and hungry mouth. Her breasts thrust upward, her nipples pulling tight in pleasure. His hands shifted to her back and he raised her farther, her back arching off the bed. She cried out in pleasure when his mouth transferred to her breasts. Her sex clenched tight with rising need as he rained kisses over sensitive flesh and then slipped a nipple between his lips.

  He drew on her so sweetly, Natalie’s plea was almost harsh.

  He rose over her at the sound, a long leg covering one of hers, his ribs pressed against her own. He untied the drawstring of his pants. She could feel his lungs working as he panted nearly as rapidly as she did. She felt the remaining barrier of his thin pants fall away, and he reached for the bedside table and found a condom. Wariness flickered through her for a brief few seconds as he put it on, but then Liam lowered over her. He seized her mouth with his own, and smooth, warm, naked skin glided against her tingling flesh in a caress that struck her as divine.

  Then she was kissing him back and her hands were worshipping him, her desire every bit as intense as his.

  She felt him move, steely male strength against her female softness. He pressed against her and she felt a shock go through his body. She gritted her teeth against a stab of discomfort.

  He lifted his head and she saw the look of anguished restraint on his face. She reached for him, tracing his smooth goatee with stroking fingers, wishing she could ease the agony so that only the pleasure remained. Her longing only increased when she realized he probably desired something similar for her.