Give Me Liberty

by Anne Brock

  Fire flared in Luke's eyes, and Lib realized that the white T-shirt she was wearing was made transparent by the water. It molded itself to her body, and combined with the lacy bra she wore underneath, didn't leave much to the imagination. She could practically feel the heat of Luke's gaze as he struggled to keep his eyes north of her neck.

  The desire Lib saw in his eyes was exciting. He wanted her. He truly wanted her. But it was the fact that he was fighting to control it — that he cared enough about her to keep the promise he'd made — that was what pushed Lib over the edge.

  She moved toward him, reaching up around his neck to pull his mouth down to hers. She could feel his surprise as she kissed him — surprise that faded quickly, replaced by sheer passion as he kissed her, too. His arms closed around her, pulling her in tightly to him. She heard him gasp as the cool of her wet clothes hit his bare chest, as the softness of her body molded to his.

  And still he kissed her.

  Lib held tightly to him as the world seemed to spin around her. Unlike the other times he'd kissed her, this was a kiss of pure fire, pure heat. His lips were unyielding as his tongue swept past her teeth, into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her, possessing her. She could feel her heart pounding, feel her control shatter, feel her fingers deep in his thick black hair, pulling him even closer to her.

  Just when she was sure he was going to drag her down with him onto the hard wood of the dock, he pulled back. He still held her in his arms, and Lib could see the fire she'd tasted in his kiss lingering in his eyes.

  But she also saw confusion. "Have we talked?" he whispered, his eyes caressing her face. His hands were against her back, in her hair, touching, stroking, as if he couldn't believe she was actually in his arms.

  "You know that I live here," Lib said simply, gazing up into his eyes, "that I belong here, in Sterling."

  Luke laughed. Lib could see from his eyes that he didn't understand.

  "You didn't know that a few days ago," Lib explained.

  Understanding lit his face. "You're right," he said softly. "I didn't. But I do now."

  Lib smiled at him in the moonlight, and Luke's heart went through its entire gymnastics routine. If this really was love he was feeling, it was no wonder wars had been started, countries and governments ruined and lost, individual lives damaged beyond repair, all as a result of this one overwhelming emotion.

  He kissed Lib again, pulling her hips tightly against him, plundering the sweetness of her mouth with his tongue, wanting more, so much more. He heard her moan, felt her hands on the bare skin of his back, pulling him closer to her.

  For the first time in a long time, Luke knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted this woman that he was holding in his arms. But he didn't want her only for one night, or even two. He wanted her for a lifetime. He wanted to grow old with her, to sit with her out on the porch of his house and watch ten thousand summer sunsets.

  He wanted to marry her.

  For one brief, crazed moment, Luke actually considered asking her right then and there. Marry me. The words were on his lips. But if he said those words, she'd think he was totally nuts. And she'd be right. He'd lost it. He'd totally lost his mind.

  Standing there in the pale moonlight, looking down into Lib's beautiful face, Luke didn't care. He may have lost his mind, but, Lord, think of what he was gaining.

  "Luke." The way she breathed his name sent rockets of heat searing through him. He kissed her again and again, losing himself in the softness of her lips, the softness of her body against his.

  Marry me. Again, he almost gave in to the impulse to blurt out the words. But he held himself back. No, this wasn't the way to ask her. If he really knew what he wanted — and he did, that was for damn sure — then he had to work out a plan, figure out the best way to achieve his goal. He had to approach this with a level head, the same way he'd approached his financial goals, pragmatically setting up and sticking to a strategy.

  As much as he wanted to throw himself on his knees and beg her to marry him, as much as he wanted to sweep her up into his arms and carry her up to that big canopied bed she had in her bedroom, as much as he wanted to surround himself with her, to make love to her, to hear her cry out with pleasure and passion, as much as he wanted all that, he held himself back.

  Because he was scared to death of blowing it. He was scared of making a mistake.

  Lib sighed as Luke kissed her again, closing her eyes and letting herself get swept away by the sensations, by the emotion. His lips were so warm and his mouth tasted so sweet —

  Like sugar and spice.

  Joan's words of warning came back to Lib. She'd called Luke a snake, implied he was only after one thing... . Lib tried to push those thoughts away, and hated the fact that she couldn't. Joan's words were marring the perfection of Luke's kisses, invading the privacy of this special moment.

  What if Joan were right? What if he only wanted sex? What if Lib slept with Luke and then, having achieved his sexual goal, he turned into a cold, impersonal stranger?

  But he wouldn't, she told herself. He may have treated women badly in the past, but he was different now.

  Luke was kissing her lightly, running his tongue across her lips in a way that made her flood with heat inside. She wanted him. How she wanted him. And he wanted her. She could feel the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressed tightly against her, she could see his need for her burning in his dark eyes.

  Lib yearned to take him by the hand and lead him back to the house. She wanted to bring him inside, up the narrow back stairs to her bedroom. Yet something held her back.

  A breeze swept over the pond and Lib shivered, as much from her fears as from the coolness of the air against her wet skin and clothes.

  "You're freezing," Luke said, his voice soft and husky in the stillness. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

  He gathered up his sneakers and socks in one hand and clasped Lib's fingers in the other, and together they began walking slowly toward the house.

  Luke said nothing more, and in the silence, Lib wrestled with herself. She knew it was too soon, too early to invite him in, but her heart was urging her to go for it. Her instincts and her emotions told her that the timing couldn't be more right.

  Luke dropped his sneakers and socks onto Lib's front porch and drew her back into his arms. "About that mortgage you're thinking of getting from the bank," he said. "What can I do to convince you to keep my loan instead?"

  Lib sighed. "It just rubs me the wrong way," she said. "You know, being involved with someone I owe money to. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea — you included."

  Luke was quiet for a long time, just running his fingers through her still-damp hair.

  "Don't you trust me?" he finally said.

  Lib laughed. "Yes," she said. "But the real question is, do you trust me?"

  She looked up into Luke's eyes and felt a twinge of disappointment at the uncertainty she saw there, at his hesitation to answer her question.

  But to his credit, he answered her honestly. "I don't know," he said. "I'm trying to." He moistened his lips almost nervously, looking away from her for a moment. When he looked back, she could see real vulnerability in his eyes. "It's been a long time since I've trusted anyone besides myself," he said. "I trust you... as much as I can right now."

  She nodded, unable to speak over the emotion that had suddenly welled in her throat and chest.

  Luke took a deep breath. "I want to be honest with you, Lib," he said quietly. "I'm scared that if you take out this loan from the bank in order to pay me back, you won't be able to handle the bank's higher interest payments. I'm scared that you'll be forced to sell your house in order to pay back their loan." He closed his eyes for a moment, but not before Lib caught a glimpse of a sheen of emotion there. He cleared his throat and pulled her in closer to him, resting his cheek on top of her silky hair as he whispered, "I'm scared to death that something's going to happen to make you leave."

  Lib felt her eyes
fill with tears, touched that he would admit his fears to her, glad that he trusted her enough to share his feelings. She tightened her hold on him, pulling him closer, then stood on her toes and kissed him.

  He kissed her back almost savagely, as if he couldn't get enough of her, as if he wanted to inhale her, to consume her.

  Luke's head was spinning, and he fought desperately to stay in control. He'd already decided that he wasn't going to stay with Lib tonight, that he wasn't going to ask her to make love to him. It was too soon. Way too soon.

  But he couldn't stop kissing her, each kiss harder and deeper and longer than the last.

  "Liberty, let me stay with you—"

  The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and at the exact instant he spoke, she spoke, too, saying, "Come inside — will you come inside...?"

  Luke pulled back, shocked that he hadn't been able to keep from asking, and thrilled that she wanted the very same thing. He stared into Lib's eyes. They seemed colorless in the darkness, and so beautiful.

  For many long seconds they simply looked at each other. It could go either way, Luke realized. He knew that if she asked him again, he wouldn't be able to refuse. As he watched, Liberty took a deep breath.

  "No." Again, they both spoke at the same moment, then laughed.

  "I think—" Luke started.

  "We should wait," Lib finished for him.

  "I don't want to wait," he murmured, kissing her again.

  "I don't want to either," she said, closing her eyes and melting against him.

  "But we should," he said, still kissing her.

  "I'm not very good at doing what I should," Lib said. "So maybe we should just—"

  Luke cupped her face with his hands, silencing her by brushing his thumb across her lips. "I want you," he said simply. "But I want to do this right. Please don't make it more difficult than it already is."

  His dark eyes were so serious, his face so unyielding, Lib could do nothing but nod.

  He kissed her gently then, a light brushing of his lips across hers. "Good night," he whispered. "See you tomorrow."

  He released her, stepping back, away from her, but she didn't move.

  "Go inside, Lib," he said. "And lock the door behind you, because Lord help me, I'm only human."

  Silently, she opened the door and went into the front hall. "I never lock the door," she said through the screen. In the darkness, Luke caught a quick glimpse of her white teeth as she smiled. "Good night, Luke."

  It didn't have to end here, Luke knew. It would only take one word, and she'd be his for the night. But he wanted more than one night. He wanted every single night for the rest of their lives, and he needed some time to sit down, think it through and figure out the best way to get that.

  Liberty was still standing in the doorway, and he made himself walk down the steps, down the front path, away from her.

  "Luke." The sound of her low, musical voice made him stop.

  He turned around, but he couldn't see her in the shadows, behind the screen door.

  "I'm not going to leave." Her voice drifted out to him from the darkness. "I promise I won't."

  Luke stood on the front walk, moonlight gleaming off his bare shoulders and chest, the nighttime shadows making his muscular body seem even more well-defined. He looked down at the wet sneakers he was carrying, down at his bare feet, then finally up toward the dark doorway, up at the screen door behind which Lib stood.

  "I just... wanted you to know that," she said quietly.

  He nodded, and his eyes seemed to find hers, even though she knew he couldn't possibly see her in the darkness.

  "I'm going to hold you to that promise," he said, then turned and walked into the darkness.

  Chapter Eight

  "Luke!"

  Luke skidded to a stop on the loose gravel out in front of the hardware store, almost dropping the bag he carried. He looked longingly over at his pickup truck, parked across the street, then turned to face his sister.

  "You're in one heck of a hurry," Brenda said with a smile. "Can you spare a few seconds?"

  Luke tried hard not to glance at his watch. "One or two," he said, hefting the paper sack a little higher in his arms. "What's up?"

  "You tell me," Brenda said. "Rumor has it you've taken Lib Jones out to a different restaurant every night this week. I know for a fact that you haven't been in to work — at least not regularly — for going on three weeks. And my spies have reported seeing you two dancing together up at the resort. And I'm talking slooow dancing." She smiled at her brother sweetly. "So tell me, are you still claiming you and Miss Jones are nothing but friends?"

  Luke was looking down Main Street, as if he were watching the light stream of traffic that was moving around the town center. But his eyes were soft and out of focus, and the small smile that played around his mouth told Brenda he'd temporarily been transported somewhere else. She was willing to bet that wherever he'd gone, Lib Jones was nearby.

  "Hello?" Brenda said, and Luke looked back at her, startled, as if he'd forgotten she was standing there.

  "Sorry," he said. "Did you ask me something?"

  He'd been thinking about last night. He'd taken Lib out to dinner, and afterwards they'd walked over to the Dairy Bee and he'd bought her an ice cream cone. As they ate the ice cream, they'd strolled around the town green, holding hands. After he drove her back home, they'd sat on her front porch for hours, talking and watching for falling stars.

  At about one-thirty in the morning, he'd kissed Lib good night, the same way he'd done every single night during the past week, and he'd gone home. Alone.

  He'd brushed his teeth, had what was rapidly becoming a habitual cold shower and he'd gone to bed. Alone.

  When Luke was lying in bed, awake in the middle of the night, he wondered what on earth had possessed him to decide to take his romance with Liberty Jones at such a snail's pace. But he'd given the entire situation a great deal of careful thought and he'd decided he'd court her, slowly and carefully, the old-fashioned way. Truth was, he wanted her to take him seriously. And every single time that he said good night and left her standing on her front porch, he could see in her eyes that she took him a little bit more seriously. Every time he walked away from her without trying to press his advantage, without asking her if he could stay the night, his reputation was bleached another shade lighter.

  A few more weeks, Luke thought, and he'd ask her to marry him. But, Lord, he wasn't sure he could last a few more weeks. He wasn't sure Lib could, either. He could see her desire clearly in her violet eyes, taste it in her kisses, feel it in the way she trembled when he held her in his arms.

  Day after tomorrow, the jeweler would be finished cleaning Grandma Fulton's antique diamond ring. It didn't need to be sized. Luke had snagged a piece of Lib's costume jewelry, a ring he'd seen her wear a few times when they'd gone out, and it was the exact size of the Fulton heirloom ring. It was as if the Fulton ring had been made for Liberty. Maybe it had, Luke thought with a smile.

  "You still haven't heard a single word I've said," Brenda said, crossing her arms. She gave Luke a long, speculative look. "You're in love with this girl, aren't you? Good grief, it's finally happened. You've been caught."

  Out of habit, Luke started to protest, but then stopped. He'd always been so careful with his privacy, feeling that the things he did, and the people he did them with were no one else's business. But the way he felt about Liberty, and his plans for their future were Brenda's business. She would be gaining a sister-in-law, for Pete's sake.

  "I'm crazy about her," he said. Lord, it still scared him to death to admit it. But he took a deep breath and went on. "She's the one," he said simply.

  Brenda laughed, but her eyes filled with tears. She hugged her brother fiercely. "I was so worried about you," she said. "All this time, all you could think about was money and financial reports and buying back that stupid land." She squeezed Luke even tighter. "You may have had a lot of money, kid, but only
now are you really rich."

  * * *

  There was a hint of the coming autumn in the night air.

  Tomorrow was the day Luke would meet the business executives who were interested in buying his video stores. They'd scheduled a morning meeting in Boston, and Luke was planning to leave early — before six — in order to get to the city in plenty of time.

  He was quiet as he walked Lib up the path to her front porch, and she could tell his thoughts were already in Boston. She'd had three solid weeks of Luke's company, and she wasn't ready for it to end. But tomorrow he was going out of town, and from that moment on, everything would be different.

  Lib shivered slightly and Luke pulled her down next to him on the porch swing they'd hung just last weekend.

  "Cold?" he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her even closer.

  She leaned her head against his warmth. "No, just spooked," she said. "Summer's almost over and... too many things are changing. I can't believe you have to go back to work tomorrow."

  "It's going to be pretty intense for the next few days," Luke agreed, "until I can get this deal closed. But after that, after I buy back my land, the work load oughta lighten up, and I can help you finish up the house—"

  Lib suddenly sat up, turning to look at him. "You're kidding, right?" she said.

  Luke stared at her, his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. "No," he said.

  "What about the additions to the resort?" she asked. "Weren't you and Ken Avery planning on building guest cottages on part of the land you sold him — the land that you're going to buy back?"

  "Well, yeah," Luke said. "But my share of the work's done. It's up to the builders now—"

  "You don't really think Avery's going to go ahead with those building plans after you buy back the land," Lib said.

  "Why not?" Luke said. "The site's perfect, and I'm prepared to lease him the land—"

  "And you think Avery's going to build permanent structures on land he's leasing from you, when he could simply turn around and buy the Hodgekin's back acres, or maybe even the White's upper pasture?" Lib said. "It's really pretty up there, and I'd bet you Lance White'll give him a good deal — at least it'd be a hell of a lot better than any lease arrangement Avery could make with you."