He rolled on a condom she had not noticed him unwrap. “Were we arguing?” he asked innocently, pushing her legs wide. She dragged in a gasp as he thrust inside, caressing her with his hot, thick length.
“Smart-ass,” was all she could say before the power possessed them, and all they could do was cling to one another and ride it out.
The haunting sound of the Uilleann pipes woke Liam. Nancy’s light weight on his shoulder sent a rush of surprised joy through him.
He turned his head carefully and looked at the clock. 2:17 A.M.
Eoin. That sneaky, sentimental little bastard. Nancy murmured softly and raised her head. Moonlight flooded through the window, illuminating her shadowy eyes. She brushed her hair out of her face.
“How gorgeous. ‘The Soldier’s Vow.’ That’s one of my favorites.”
“Yeah, Eoin goes for the real heartbreakers,” he muttered.
She cuddled up next to him again. “It’s romantic.”
“It’s two in the morning,” he growled.
She punched him in the shoulder. “Oh, give in, Liam! There’s moonlight, there’s music, it’s romantic. Surrender, already!”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I already have.” He pulled her hand down and showed her the effect she had on his body.
She laughed. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Not yet. What about you? Are you sore?”
“I’m fine,” she said bashfully. “But I’d rather just talk for a while.”
“Okay,” he said, rolling onto his side. “What about?”
“Let’s take it one minute at a time,” she suggested gently. They stared at each other in the moonlight as he ran his fingers through her hair. Eoin ended “The Soldier’s Vow” and began “The Women of Ireland.”
“God, that kid is good,” she said. “So he rents your basement?”
“Not exactly. He just bunks there. It’s a space to crash.”
“You give him a job and a place to stay? That’s nice of you.”
“Not really. People helped me when I was a kid. This is the best way to pay them back. Besides, he’s family. My mom’s cousin’s boy.”
“People helped you how?” Her slender hand trailed over his shoulders, exploring his muscles. It was turning him on like crazy.
He wrangled his attention back to her question by brute force of will. “When I was Eoin’s age, I traveled the world. I worked my way across America on cattle ranches. Crewed on a yacht on the Pacific. Worked on sheep stations in Australia. I met lots of people who gave me a meal, or a job, or a place to sleep. It was a good education.”
“How did your parents take it?” she asked, fascinated.
He shrugged. “They worried. My stepfather wanted me to be a cop, like him. He was a good man. He taught me music. Carpentry, too. It was what he did for fun.” He studied the curve of her cheekbone as Eoin’s pipes began to sob out yet another haunting tune.
“Did you ever think of going to college?” she asked.
“Seemed like a waste of money,” he said. “Anything you want to learn, you can just go to the library and study up on it for free.”
She slid her slender arm around his waist. “I never thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right. What’s the story on your real dad?”
His body stiffened. “I haven’t seen him in twenty-six years.”
Her eyes were full of interest. “You don’t know where he is?”
“Maybe there was an address with the flowers he sent to Mom’s funeral,” he said curtly. “I didn’t bother to look.”
Nancy sat up slowly. “I’m sorry. I guess I hit a nerve.”
“It’s okay,” he said tightly.
She caressed his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’ve put it behind me,” he snarled, and then felt like shit for using that tone with her, but his gut was clenched. Every word she said pulled them closer to that wall. They needed an emergency detour. He grabbed her arm, yanking her down. She cried out, and he froze abruptly. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No, but—”
He muffled the rest of her words with a kiss, using all his skill and instinct to drag her back into the burning present moment. No future, no past. Just the melody that throbbed outside the window, the moonlight, and Nancy’s slender body moving beneath his. So generous, and soft, and strong.
He didn’t want to think about the wall they would hit. The look on his father’s face as he walked away forever. Lucia’s freshly dug grave. Masked attackers in the stairwell, the violence that lurked around every blind corner, the gun on the bedside table. The uncertainty, the danger. And this delicate thing they had. So precious, so fragile. Beset on every side.
She gripped him, crying out as her first climax jolted through her.
Yes. His. The satisfaction that burned in him felt almost like anger. He buried his face against her hair and hung on as his own dark explosion blasted him, mind and body, into blessed oblivion.
He would cheat fate for as long as he could. Fuck them all.
Chapter
9
The sky was pink outside Liam’s window when Nancy woke up. The bed beside her was empty, and a shower was running behind the door. She flopped back onto the pillow and studied the room. A photo of a younger Liam sat under the lamp. He had longer hair and a big carefree grin, his arm around the shoulder of a handsome older woman with the same eyes and smile.
She found the bathroom. Took a shower. Muscles she didn’t know she had were pleasurably sore. When she came downstairs, bacon sizzled on a skillet, a teakettle was whistling, and Liam was spooning pancake batter onto a griddle. It smelled incredibly delicious.
He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “What kind of tea would you like?” he asked. “I’ve got Darjeeling and this great Nepali stuff.”
“No coffee?” She stared at him in dismay.
“Not in this house.”
She plugged her cell phone into a countertop outlet to recharge. “There’s got to be an espresso bar somewhere in Latham.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, unsympathetically. “Do you like your bacon crisp or chewy?”
“Chewy, please. Could I use your telephone? I want to give my sisters your home number.”
“Be my guest,” he said.
Nancy forked some wet food into a bowl for Moxie as Vivi’s cell rang and rang. She picked up, though her voice was sleepy. “Yeah?”
“Get a pen, Viv. I have to give you a telephone number.”
“Omigod. Omigod. Is it the telephone number of that big, tall green-eyed drink of water? Hey, Nell! Wake up! Nancy got laid!”
“Get the pen, Viv,” Nancy repeated, with gritted-jaw fortitude.
Vivi hummed ebulliently as she copied down the number that Nancy dictated. “Okay, it’s on the fridge. So? Details, honey, details! Is he, well, as vigorous as he looks when you two, well, you know?”
“I absolutely will not discuss that,” Nancy said primly.
“I should think not, since he must be right there in the room with you, am I right?”
“Bingo,” she whispered.
“So go upstairs, or outside, or whatever, and I’ll call your cell,” her sister ordered. “You’ve just got to tell me everything!”
“I don’t have my cell on,” she admitted. “The battery’s dead.”
There was a dramatic silence from the other end of the line. “The battery is dead? You forgot to recharge your cell phone? Wait. Who is this, and what have you done with my sister?”
“Oh, stop it,” Nancy snapped.
“Well, tell us all about it when you get back,” Vivi burbled. “And I mean all. When are you getting back, by the way? Let’s do dinner.”