Ahh, he knew the story of her deceased husband, but there was obviously more to that tale than she'd originally told him. He waited patiently for her to continue, knowing he'd sit there for hours, days, weeks, to learn more about her. To know her inside and out. Dangerous stuff, that, but at the moment, he was beyond caring about anything else but her-insecurities, painful secrets, and all.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if remembering; then her lashes lifted once again. Her gaze was distant, as though she were caught somewhere in the past. "I told you that my aunt and uncle were less than thrilled about my marrying Travis. That was the first time I'd really defied them. And after Travis died and I ended up on the verge of bankruptcy because of his debts, that was a very we-told-you-so kind of moment for me, though my aunt and uncle were gracious enough not to say anything to make me feel any worse than I already did."
She glanced back at him and managed a shaky half smile, but the gesture was forced over the emotional anguish flickering in her eyes. "I knew they were disappointed in me, and it hurt to think that I'd lost a bit of their respect for the rash and reckless decision I'd made. They're the only family I have left, and after everything they'd done for me, I'd let them down."
Her voice cracked, and she swallowed before speaking again. "So, here I am, just making a comeback after my disastrous marriage, and finally getting my business back to the point that it's solvent again, and I can't even handle a simple request to keep an eye on Valerie for them."
He refrained from grabbing her shoulders and shaking some sense into her. "Valerie is old enough to make her own decisions and suffer the consequences," he said one last time, but knew that was something Liz had to come to learn and accept on her own. Right now she was thinking with old childhood emotions clouding her judgment. Nothing he could say or do would make her realize the truth until she believed it for herself, as the adult she'd become. "Valerie is just damn lucky to have someone who cares so much about her, the way you do."
"I just want to find her and make sure she's safe." Liz worried at her bottom lip, the concern she harbored for her cousin weighing her down. "And hopefully, my aunt and uncle will never have to know about any of this."
Yes, this incident would pass, he agreed, but there would be more of her cousin's antics that Liz would take upon herself to bear. She'd go on feeling responsible and living her life to please her aunt and uncle instead of herself-because she believed that was what she needed to do to gain back their trust and respect. If she'd ever lost it. So far, Liz's description hadn't given him that impression. She was the one being so hard on herself.
Everyone made wrong or misguided decisions, along with mistakes they regretted. He had his own burdens to live with, as well-things he wished he could have done differently, like paying more attention to his marriage before it had started to deteriorate. But he'd learned that he couldn't allow those pitfalls to rule his life, that he had to deal with them and move on. But it appeared that Liz was still living in the past, for fear of failing the people she cared for the most.
At the moment, curled up in the chair all by herself, she seemed lost and all alone, even though he was sitting on the couch merely a few feet away. She was incredibly giving and selfless, to the very heart and soul of who she was. A woman who wanted nothing more than for everything around her to be good and right, yet all she could see in herself were imperfections and flaws.
Aching to bridge the distance between them, and wanting to offer her a semblance of comfort, he held his hand out to her. "Come here," he said softly.
She didn't hesitate to put her fingers into his palm, and the trusting gesture gave him an odd jolt of pleasure that warmed him from the inside out. Gently he pulled her from her chair and draped her across his thighs so that her bottom was nestled in his lap. She fit him perfectly, in ways that went beyond the physical.
"I'm here," she whispered sweetly, and gave him a tremulous smile that went straight to his heart and tugged hard.
Good Lord, what was happening to him? But deep inside, he knew what was happening, and he was beginning to realize he was helpless to fight the strong, undeniable feelings she evoked-no matter how much those emotions scared the hell out of him.
Placing one of her hands on his chest, she relaxed in his arms, snuggled closer, and sighed. "Tell me, did you and your brothers fight for attention with your parents, too?"
He stroked his hand up her back and lightly massaged the taut muscles at the nape of her neck, loving the silken texture of her hair threading through his fingers. Unlike her own unstable upbringing and the loss of her parents, his childhood had been very secure. "My brothers and I knew we were loved equally, and there was plenty of attention to go around, so there was no reason to fight for it."
She rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers absently fluttering over the pulse at the base of his throat. "You're very lucky," she said, her warm, moist breath drifting along his neck.
He heard the wistful note to her voice and brushed his lips across her temple. "Yeah, I am," he replied, and felt so damn stingy for possessing the kind of strong family ties and devotion she so obviously coveted for her own.
"Come with me to my father's party tomorrow afternoon," he said, expressing the thoughts that had been tumbling around in his mind before he could stop them.
Obviously startled, she lifted her head and searched his expression. Her eyes were wide, and she looked just as surprised as he felt, though he didn't regret issuing the invitation now that it was out in the open between them. He wanted to share something special with her, to make her forget for a little while about the anguish and uncertainties she'd been living with for the past week. There was no reason for her to be alone with her turbulent thoughts tomorrow while he was celebrating his father's birthday with his family. Not when he had the power to give her a sense of belonging and unconditional acceptance at a time when she doubted both.
She licked her lips nervously and shook her head. "Steve… I don't think that's such a good idea."
Cupping her cheek in his palm, he smoothed his thumb along her baby-soft skin, inhaled her shower-fresh scent. "Sweetheart, it's just a party."
"A family kind of party," she pointed out, making it clear that she wasn't related in any way.
"And what-I can't bring friend?" he countered wryly, and swiped a playful finger down the slope of her pert nose.
"Is that what I am to you?" she asked quietly, the question loaded with meaning. "A friend?"
She was his lover. A sexy siren who was tying him up in knots. A fascinating woman he couldn't seem to get enough of. "I'd like to think we're friends, yes. But you're also the woman I'm currently going out with." A woman he was falling hard and fast for.
So simple, yet so complicated.
She moved off his lap and sat on the cushion beside him, their warm and cozy moment over. "I don't want to give your family the wrong impression about us. I mean, we're not really going out going out."
An unexpected wave of frustration swept through him. "No?"
"We're not, well, dating." She waved a slender hand in the air between them, grasping for the right words. "We're just… having an affair."
The corner of his mouth twitched with exasperation. She made their relationship sound so brief and impersonal, and he was unjustifiably annoyed that she wanted to keep things so superficial, when that was what they'd agreed upon in the first place.