by Marie Force
The doors slid open into a dark room. He took her hand to help her from the elevator. When he reached for a lamp, she stopped him.
“Let me see your view first.” The moonlight drew her to the wall of windows overlooking the bay. To the left she could see the Newport Bridge lit up in the distance. To the right were the Mount Hope Bridge and the Providence skyline. “Oh, Travis. This is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, reaching around her to open the door to a sweeping patio.
Liana stepped outside for a better look. “I’ve always wanted to live on the water.”
“So why don’t you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really live anywhere. I have an apartment in New York, but I haven’t been there in months.”
“That seems like a tough way to live.”
She flashed him the smile that had made her millions but isolated her from regular people. “And yet my job sounds so glamorous, right?”
“It does have that reputation. Can I get you a drink?”
“Do you have white wine?”
“Sure do. I’ll get that and the clothes I promised. I’ll be right back.”
Liana turned back to enjoy the tranquility. Far below she could see the workers cleaning up after the wedding and heard the faint hint of reggae music coming from the tent. She wondered if Enid was having sweaty sex yet. Stop, Liana, she told herself, but she couldn’t deny her cousin had struck a nerve with her comments about Liana’s austere lifestyle. Maybe it was time to shake things up a bit. If—and that was a very big if—she was to have a sweaty affair, Travis North would certainly make an intriguing candidate—a very sexy candidate.
“Liana?”
She jumped, startled out of her scandalous thoughts.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t,” she said, breathless from the current of electricity that raced through her at the sound of his voice. He had changed into faded jeans and a T-shirt that confirmed what she’d discovered while dancing with him—sculpted pecs and biceps along with what appeared to be six-pack abs. She licked her suddenly dry lips and watched his eyes follow the progress of her tongue.
He handed her the glass of wine. “I left a couple of options on my bed.” He gestured toward the one room in the sprawling penthouse that was lit. “Use whatever you need.”
“Thank you.” She took a sip of the dry wine, put the glass down on a table, and brushed past him on her way inside. His bedroom was tastefully decorated with a king-sized bed, marble-topped tables, and a small sitting area by the full-length windows. The room, like the man who slept here, was masculine but elegant. Liana was further intrigued after being allowed into his private sanctum.
At the foot of the big bed, he had left several T-shirts and two pairs of gym shorts with drawstrings. Suddenly frantic to get out of the itchy dress, Liana reached for the hook at the back of her neck and pulled, but it snagged. Working to free it, exasperation began to mount along with a burning need to be free of the hideous dress. She whimpered as her arms fell to her sides, exhausted from the struggle. Realizing she was hopelessly stuck, she went back to where he waited for her on the patio.
He turned when he heard the swish of her long skirt. “Didn’t fit?”
“I, um, I need some help.”
He chuckled. “Is that a line?” “Please,” she pleaded. “Get me out of this thing!”
“With pleasure.” He led her into the bedroom to make use of the light.
She gathered her thick hair and pulled it to one side, giving him access to the wayward hook.
“What would you have done if you were alone?”
“I would’ve gotten a big pair of scissors and cut the thing straight down the middle.”
He laughed as he worked to free her.
His breath was warm on the back of her neck, and she suppressed a gasp when his fingers brushed against her sensitive skin.
“I think I’ve got it. Do you want me to do the others?”
She swallowed hard. “Sure. Thanks.”
As he worked his way down her back, Liana told herself the slight shiver was from the cool air hitting her irritated skin, not because a sexy man was all but undressing her in his bedroom. God, he smells good. When he disposed of the last hook, Liana began to turn around.
He stopped her with his hands on her shoulders. “Wait.”
Her heart pounded with anticipation, and her skin heated under his hands. She jolted when his lips brushed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder while his finger grazed the straight line he’d uncovered down the middle of her back. “Travis,” she gasped, tilting her head to give him better access.
“What?” he murmured against her neck.
“Don’t.”
He ran his tongue lightly over her ear, making her shudder. “Why not?” he whispered as he moved around to face her.
“Because.”
He took her hands, brought them to his shoulders, and went back to work on her neck. “Because why?” He caressed her back inside the dress.
“Because,” she said, leaning into him as her protests became less and less convincing.
With a disarming smile, he brought his hand to her face, tilting it to meet his kiss. His lips were soft and undemanding, but they electrified just the same. At the exact moment when she thought she would go mad from wanting more of him, his control snapped and he plundered. All she could do was hold on for the ride as he ravaged her mouth. Never, she thought, in her one moment of lucidity before she ceased to think at all. Never had she been kissed quite like this.
Held prisoner against the hard wall of his chest, Liana buried her hands in his hair and met the thrusts of his tongue with her own, eliciting a groan from deep inside him.
Only when he lowered her to his bed and came down on top of her did Liana snap out of her passion-induced fog. She pushed against his chest and twisted to break free of his kiss. “No,” she gasped. “Stop.”
Travis rolled to the side and lay flat on his back, breathing heavily with an arm covering his eyes.
Liana sat up and tugged her sagging dress back up over her shoulders. Tears burned her eyes. Why can other women be so cavalier about these things? Why can’t I just take the pleasure he offered and enjoy it? Probably because she never had figured out how to tell the difference between men who were out to nail a supermodel and men who wanted to make love to her—Liana, the girl from the small town in the smallest state who also happened to be an international celebrity. She had yet to meet anyone who fell into the latter category. Apparently, the man panting next to her on the bed wasn’t going to be the exception.
His expression full of regret, he sat up. “I’m sorry.”
“I said I didn’t want you to do that,” she snapped.
“You were as into it as I was,” he said, clearly making an effort not to snap back.
Liana got up, keeping a tentative grip on what was left of her dignity as she held her unbuttoned dress closed with one hand over her shoulder. “I’d like to go home now, please.”
His eyes narrowed into an expression that could have turned water instantly to ice. “Get changed, and I’ll take you.” He stalked from the room and slammed the door behind him.
Liana sank to the bed and tried unsuccessfully to curb the tears.
Chapter Three
Travis went straight for the bar and poured himself a tall shot of whiskey, which took his breath away when it burned all the way through him. You deserve to hurt, you idiot. The wounded face, the tears, the dress, the whole picture was more than he could bear to remember. Goddamn it! Why did you have to be exactly what she expected you to be?
Oh, but that kiss, that feeling of having finally found the missing piece . . . Would he ever be able to forget how perfectly she fit against him, the satiny feel of her skin, the mysterious scent that belonged only to her, and those violet eyes that gave away her every emotion?
Damn it, she had kissed him back! H
e had done enough kissing in his life to be able to gauge when his partner was reciprocating, and Liana had done a hell of a lot more than reciprocate. He could almost still feel her fingers in his hair, for Christ’s sake! Despite her claims to the contrary, he had not read the signals wrong. No way.
The bedroom door opened and she came out wearing his Stanford T-shirt and shorts that were so big on her she’d had to roll the top down a couple of times to anchor them to her slim hips. She drew the puffy dress from under her arm and held it against her middle like a protective shield.
Travis finished the last of his whiskey and put the glass down on the granite bar. He ached when he saw her tear-stained face, and it was all he could do to resist the urge to take her into his arms and hold her, to sooth away the tension that had gathered in her forehead, to kiss away the sadness radiating from her. That surge of tenderness for someone who had treated him the same way she might treat Jack the Ripper astounded him.
She flinched when he brushed past her on his way into his bedroom.
He came back with his keys and crossed the room to the elevator without a word. Punching a button on the wall, Travis kept his back to her while he waited. The doors opened, and he held one side open for her.
In the elevator Liana fixated on a light in the corner. She seemed smaller next to him than she had earlier, and Travis realized she was barefooted when he noticed the stiletto heels dangling from her fingers.
The elevator deposited them into the parking garage in the basement of The Tower, and he walked to his burgundy Jaguar without so much as a glance over his shoulder to see if she had followed him. He opened the passenger door for her and went around to slide into the driver’s seat. Only when he heard her seatbelt click into place did he turn on the car.
She had bunched the dress onto the floor, so when he turned to back out of the parking space he got his first look at her long, smooth legs and high, firm breasts outlined in all their plump perfection by the seatbelt. Oh God, what that horrible dress had hidden! He cringed when his body reacted with embarrassing predictability.
With tremendous effort he tore his eyes off her and navigated the car through the small garage. Once they had emerged into the sultry summer night, he continued to try his best to ignore the desire that beat through him as her scent filled the small space. Suddenly in need of air, and lots of it, he pushed a button to open the driver’s side window.
“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked in a soft, quiet voice.
She sounded so defeated he wanted to pull over and give her whatever it was she needed, but he knew she’d never take it from him. “I know where McCorrie Lane is, but you’ll have to show me which house it is.”
Turning to look out her window, she didn’t say another word as he drove through the sleeping town of Portsmouth. On their way from the west side of the island to the east, they passed everything from million-dollar homes to shacks. Ten minutes later, he pulled onto McCorrie Lane, which wound down a hill that ended at the shores of the Sakonnet River. About halfway down the hill, she pointed to a neat white ranch house with royal-blue shutters. A light over the front door cast a glow on the well-tended flower gardens that lined the shrubbery and walkway.
Travis pulled into the driveway behind a tan sedan.
Liana reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.”
As it occurred to him that he might never see her again, a sudden wave of desperation hit him. “Liana.”
She turned to him.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Surprised, he asked, “For what?”
Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “You were right.”
“About?”
“I did kiss you back,” she whispered.
Reaching for her hand, he closed his fingers around hers. “Liana, I want to see you again. Give me another chance.” He brought her hand to his lips. “Please.”
With what seemed to be great reluctance she took back her hand. “There’s no point. I’m only going to be here for two weeks, and I have to take care of my mother.”
“I’m only suggesting dinner. Surely you can squeeze in one dinner in the next fourteen days.”
She drew in her lower lip as she held his gaze and appeared to be weighing it all out. “I’m sorry,” she said, finally looking away after a long moment of silence during which neither of them seemed to breathe. “I just can’t. Thank you again for the ride home.” Before Travis could reply, she bolted from the car.
In that moment of indecision he had seen in her a hint of longing—for what he couldn’t be sure. But he had little doubt that she had wanted to say yes to him. So he would have to change her mind. He waited until the porch light went off before he backed out of the driveway.
Travis North had developed a few skills that had gotten him where he wanted to be in life. Liana McDermott would soon discover that persistence was the greatest of all those skills.
Liana dumped the dress and her shoes in a lump on the sofa and tiptoed through the quiet house. She peeked into her mother’s room and was relieved to find her sleeping. Where did I think she would be? Liana leaned against the doorframe and remembered crawling into that bed in search of comfort during thunderstorms and bad dreams. She had always found exactly what she needed in the arms of her mother. How she wished she could crawl into that bed right now so her mother could tell her everything would be all right.
Instead, she went into her own room, which remained just as she had left it ten years earlier when she’d moved to New York two weeks after graduating from Portsmouth High School. Her diploma and Portsmouth Patriots pennant sat next to her cheerleading megaphone on a shelf where her mother had placed a framed copy of her first Vogue cover.
Liana ran a finger over the frame as she studied the girl in the stylized photograph. Had she ever really been that young and naïve? If she had known then what she knew now about celebrity would she still have wanted it so badly? And what was it exactly that she had? A fat portfolio, a handful of people she trusted to manage her life and her career but no close friends, no husband, no children, and nothing but the next assignment to look forward to. And when was the last time she had gotten excited about an assignment? She had been to almost every exotic location in the world but had rarely taken the time to enjoy any of them. Trading on her beauty, she had built a career that was the envy of millions, but she had begun to spend more time lately thinking about how empty and shallow it all was.
Thanks to her acclaim, she couldn’t even spend time with a handsome man without being wary of his ulterior motives. She had learned the hard way to be cautious as one relationship after another failed under the glare of the spotlight, the pursuit of paparazzi, and the disingenuous motives of the men she had dated. So she no longer trusted her own judgment, even when it was telling her she had nothing to fear as it had earlier with Travis.
Sinking down onto the narrow twin bed, she relived the embarrassing encounter with him. He probably thought she was a tease, and was there anything worse you could say about a woman? Well, I suppose there is, but there’s nothing worse you could say about me. She cringed when she recalled the way she had treated him, as if he had tried to rape her or something.
You’re a freak, a total freak. Any other red-blooded woman would have jumped all over a hot guy like him without a second thought. Hell, he probably has women standing in line for the opportunity you turned down tonight. He had seemed so, well, different was the only word that came to mind. Despite what had happened between them, she honestly believed he hadn’t brought her to his home with that in mind. She couldn’t deny it had happened so naturally and hadn’t felt at all like a practiced move. And if anything, he had been even more rattled afterward than she was.
Liana reclined on the bed from her childhood and gazed at the mementos from another lifetime. As she looked around the room, she tried to remember what she had dreamed about while growing up here. All she recalled was the desire to be rich and famou
s. Well, she was both those things now, but money and fame were funny things—for all their supposed glamour, they didn’t hold you during a thunderstorm, they didn’t comfort you after a bad dream, and they sure as hell didn’t keep you warm at night.
Her thoughts wandered back to Travis North and how incredibly sexy he had been in the Armani tux. He had worn the suit like a man who belonged in it. Oddly enough, he had looked just as at home in a T-shirt and jeans. Liana never would have expected to meet a man like him in little old Portsmouth, Rhode Island. In Paris or Milan, yes, but not in Portsmouth.
We’re both single. At least I think he’s single. Surely Enid would have confirmed an important detail like that before pushing Liana to have a fling with him.
A fling.
Had she ever had one? Not that she could recall. Relationships? Yes. Doomed relationships? Several. No one would be harmed if they indulged in a little fling, right?
Liana sighed. How she wished she could be that kind of girl, but she wasn’t about to become that kind of girl in the next two weeks. So it would be best if she just forgot about him and how his lips had devoured hers, how his hands had felt on her bare back, his muscular body stretched out on top of hers . . . Ugh! She rolled her heated face into the pillow. No way would she forget that.
Chapter Four
In the morning Liana found a note from her mother and freshly baked blueberry muffins on the kitchen table. “Good morning, honey! I had an errand to run, but I should be back by eleven. Coffee is ready to go. See you soon. Love, Mom.”
Liana wondered what kind of errand her mother had to do early on a Monday morning when her only child was home for the first time in a year. Unfortunately, such things were becoming the norm where her mother was concerned. Missing their regular phone calls, sounding distracted when they did manage to talk, telling her the same story two weeks in a row, and forgetting to pass along important messages from Enid were just a few of the things Liana had noticed lately. The evidence was pointing to a medical problem, and Liana had begun to wonder if her mother had Alzheimer’s disease.