Freedom's Price

by Suzanne Brockmann

“Yes.” Liam needed her to stop. God knows he was strong, but he wasn’t this strong. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. If we…do that…If we become lovers—”

  She was standing in front of him, wearing only her nightshirt and a pair of panties. The thin cotton clung to her body revealingly, but even if it hadn’t, he still wouldn’t have been able to shake the image of her, in his arms, wearing almost nothing at all.

  “What if it’s incredible?” she implored him. “What if it’s perfect?”

  How could making love to Marisala be anything but perfect? The way she’d felt in his arms, the euphoria he’d felt kissing her…He’d been caught off guard, he’d been unbalanced, his resolve weakened, and if that phone hadn’t rung, he would be in Marisala’s bed right now, driving himself hard and deep inside of her again and again until she cried out and…

  But the phone did ring, and sanity had returned, and with it had come the bitter truth.

  He was in love with this girl. Christ, he had been for years.

  He didn’t want a night or two of mindless passion. He didn’t want hot, sweaty, raw, ecstasy-filled, pulse-pounding physical love—as she’d said. He wanted Marisala’s heart. He wanted her soul. He wanted to give her his own heart and soul in return.

  But he couldn’t do that until he knew for certain that someday, and someday soon, his soul would be his own again to give her.

  “I’m not ready for something perfect.” His quiet words must’ve rung true, because she stopped her assault. She looked away from him, and he knew she didn’t understand.

  All she understood was that he was turning her down. He was rejecting her. Again.

  “You don’t have to leave your house,” she said softly. He followed her gaze out the kitchen window and he saw that the sun was coming up, filling the eastern sky with the promise of morning.

  “I have some things I have to do,” he told her. He had to find Ricardo Montoya at the Refugee Center. He had to call Santiago. He had to make damned sure he was doing this right.

  And doing this right meant that he had to let her believe—at least for a little while—that he didn’t truly want her. Because if he let her know the truth, if she realized just how hot he was for her, and more important, just how much he cared, she wouldn’t let up until they were naked together in his bed.

  “I’ll see you later,” Liam told her as he headed for the door.

  He didn’t look back.

  He didn’t dare.

  NINE

  LIAM’S CAR WAS parked in front of the building.

  Marisala saw it as soon as she turned the corner and started down the block.

  Evita wanted to stop and sniff the newspaper box, but Marisala tugged on the leash, urging the puppy to break into a run.

  Liam was finally home.

  In fact, he was coming out of the building, carrying some kind of garment bag over one shoulder, holding open the door and—

  He wasn’t alone. He was with a woman. He was with a very tall, very blonde, and very elegant woman, whose silk shirt and suit jacket were the polar opposite of Marisala’s ragged cutoffs and tank top.

  Marisala knew the moment Liam saw her. He damn near flinched, as if seeing her and being reminded how close they’d come to making love last night was painful to him.

  Still, he greeted her politely. “Mara. I figured you were out walking Evita.”

  The blonde laughed. “The puppy’s name is Evita?” She held out her hand to Marisala. “You must be Marisala. I’m Lauren Stuart. It’s so nice finally to meet you.”

  Lauren Stuart of the husky-voiced phone calls. Marisala felt her stomach drop down to her toes. Lauren was beautiful and poised, with carefully coiffed hair and perfect fingernails. Surely she was jealous of Marisala living in Liam’s house, but her words didn’t reveal even the slightest negative emotion.

  There was no doubt about it. Even if Lauren wasn’t Liam’s lover, she was everything Marisala was not. It was little wonder he kept pushing Marisala away.

  “We’ve got an awards luncheon to go to,” Liam told her. “And the annual Fund-raisers’ Ball is tonight, remember? The award ceremony could go on all afternoon, so I figured I’d better pick up my tuxedo so I could go to the ball directly.”

  So he wouldn’t have to come home to change. So he wouldn’t have to be alone with her. Marisala couldn’t fight the rush of disappointment and hurt that swept over her. So instead, she made like Liam, and smiled, hiding it. “Yes, of course, I remember.”

  “I won’t be home until late.” Liam unlocked the passenger door of his car and held it open for Lauren. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Nice to meet you, Marisala.” Lauren settled gracefully in Liam’s car with a sensuous whisper of silk.

  “Have a good time tonight,” Marisala told the other woman, nearly choking on the words.

  “Oh, I’m not going to that fun fest, thank God.” The blonde smiled. “I’m heading out to San Francisco this afternoon. My sister’s getting married tomorrow, bless her perfect timing.” With another smile, she closed the car door.

  Lauren wasn’t going. Which meant that Liam would be there alone…

  He stood looking at her across the top of his car. He looked wiped out, exhausted. “Have you spoken to Inez or Hector? When I called the hospital, there was no answer.”

  “I talked to Inez about an hour ago. She was very tired—she might’ve unplugged the phone. But both she and the baby are doing fine.”

  Liam nodded. “Good.” He hesitated, lingering as if he had something else to say. “I did a little research on the university’s pre-med program. It’s too late to do anything about this semester, but you can apply for January. I mean, if you don’t want to go somewhere else…”

  “Dan’s stepfather is on staff at the medical school at New York University. He thought it would be easier to get into the program with some kind of connection like that.”

  Liam’s expression didn’t change. “You spoke to Dan.”

  “I saw him over at school this morning. We had coffee after class.”

  There was a sudden flash of jealousy in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. “Don’t tell me—he’s graduating law school this year, after which he intends to get a job in New York City, right? Dammit, this guy is about the least subtle—”

  “Don’t start with that again,” Marisala hissed. “You have no right—no claim on me. And Dan is my friend. He likes me. And if you think anything you say will make me stay away from him, then you need to have your head examined!”

  She turned to storm inside, but he stopped her.

  “Mara.”

  She turned back, but kept her eyes firmly on the street. She didn’t want him to see the hurt that lurked behind her anger. How dare he have the gall to act jealous with Lauren Stuart sitting right there in his car?

  His voice cracked. “I’m sorry and…I have. Had my head examined. At least I’ve started to. It takes a while, you know?”

  Marisala couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She looked up at him. “What are you saying?”

  He smiled crookedly. “I’m saying that I spoke to Ricardo Montoya this morning. There’s a Thursday-night group that he runs—all people who were in San Salustiano during the war, believe it or not. I’m going to try going. See if it…helps. You know.”

  Marisala did know. She knew exactly what he’d done, and exactly the courage it had taken to do it. She picked up Evita and hugged the puppy to keep from throwing herself over the top of the car and into Liam’s arms. “That’s good,” she whispered.

  “I was hoping…” He faltered.

  “I’ll come with you. If you want,” she quickly added.

  “I’d like that. But…think about it first. You might find it pretty intense—you were there too. I don’t want you walking into the fires of hell with me, so to speak, without considering the implications first.”

  “Fires don’t scare me.” She managed to smile at him. “And we’ve already been to hell and
back, you and me….”

  He nodded. “I’ve got to go.”

  “We can talk later,” she agreed.

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

  “I won’t.” She wouldn’t wait. Because she was going to see him before that. Lauren Stuart or no Lauren Stuart, Marisala was going to this charity ball.

  Because she now knew with a terrifying conviction that she was, without a doubt, completely in love with this man.

  She was going to prove to Liam that she’d been paying attention to all those lessons on how to talk and walk and act in polite company. She was going to show him she could be everything he wanted in a woman, and more. She was going to make him forget about Lauren Stuart and convince him that tonight was a perfect night to take their friendship one step further and become lovers.

  She wasn’t looking for anything permanent. Neither of them was. They’d both learned too well that nothing lasted forever.

  But she was willing to take whatever time he could give her—whether it was a year, a week, or even just a few hours. She loved him enough to risk everything for a chance to be his lover, even just for one night.

  As Liam pulled away, Marisala headed back toward the funky shops on Newbury Street. She was going shopping.

  “May I get you another drink, sir?”

  Liam gazed pensively down at the ice cubes in the glass in his hand, but shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m fine.” He was so tired, the single gin and tonic he’d already had was making his head buzz. If he had any more, he’d have to take a cab home.

  He glanced at his watch, moving off to the side of the ballroom, wondering how long he’d have to stay before he could duck out and head for home. Ten o’clock. Surely he’d be able to go home at ten.

  Marisala was at home.

  The image of her straddling his lap, kissing him, her bare breasts peaked tightly beneath his hands, brought heat and a solid heaviness to his body. Perfect. Nothing like having an erection the size of the John Hancock Building to really make his evening complete.

  He moved closer to the wall, hoping none of the society ladies who had set up this bash would spot him and pull him onto the dance floor. He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, praying for ten o’clock to arrive so that he could leave.

  He’d told Marisala not to wait up for him, but he had no doubt that waiting up for him was exactly what she was doing. He would go home, he would unlock the door, and he would find her curled up in a chair in the living room, completely naked, reading a book. She would look up at him and smile and…

  “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Liam opened his eyes and nearly fell over.

  Marisala wasn’t at home. She was standing directly in front of him, fully dressed.

  She looked incredible. Her hair was down, framing her face. She had on more makeup than he’d ever seen her wear, and it polished her wild beauty, making her look older, more elegant and refined. Her dress was simple—a plain, black, sleeveless sheath that hugged her curves and ended many, many inches above her knees. She wore high-heeled sandals on her feet and sheer stockings on her legs. Liam wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her wear stockings before. In fact, he was certain he hadn’t.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked stupidly.

  “My Cinderella gene must’ve kicked in. I had an uncontrollable urge to come to the ball.”

  He was staring at her—he couldn’t help himself. “God, you look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “I’m here to practice being good. So I’ll only tell you how much this dress cost if you ask.”

  Liam had to laugh. “Oh, yeah? What if I don’t ask?”

  “Then you’ll never know that I picked it up at a thrift shop for only nineteen dollars.”

  Liam felt his heart expanding so that it filled his entire chest. He felt light, almost giddy. He felt every cell in his body come alive as he let himself drown in Marisala’s laughing eyes. “Dance with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was a command, but she acquiesced prettily, lowering her eyes almost shyly.

  She let him take her hand, let him lead her onto the dance floor.

  Liam smiled as he took her into his arms. “Boy, I’m glad you came.”

  She gazed up into his eyes. “I am too.”

  He had to keep talking, because if he wasn’t using his mouth to talk, he was going to use it to kiss her. “I went to the hospital after the luncheon, but Inez was still sleeping.”

  She moved closer, slipping her hand up onto the back of his neck and gently resting her cheek against his. Her skin was so smooth, so soft. His pulse began beating in uneven triplets.

  “Hector was there.” He cleared his throat, but he couldn’t get rid of the huskiness. “He must’ve just come from work—his hair was still wet from his shower. He was just standing there, watching both Inez and his baby sleep. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look so happy and proud.”

  She smelled so good. Liam wondered if she could feel his heart pounding. He knew she could feel his body’s undeniable response to her as she moved even closer.

  She was so beautiful. He could see people watching them, wondering who she was. He could feel the buzzing interest of the men in the room—it was almost a palpable thing. Marisala seemed oblivious, though. Her full attention was on him.

  “I’ve spoken to both Inez and Hector.” Her breath was warm against his ear. “If they haven’t found a place to live that they can afford by October first, I’ve told them that they can temporarily move in with me.”

  October first. It was only a few weeks away, and those weeks were shrinking fast with every day that passed. On October first, Marisala would move out of his place and into her own apartment. He would be alone again.

  Liam didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to talk about it, so he did the only thing he could.

  He kissed her.

  She melted against him, parting her sweet lips and letting him greedily drink her in. He could taste her answering passion and her triumph, and he knew this was what she wanted. She’d come here tonight to seduce him, to conquer the last of his resistance.

  He was thoroughly seduced and more than ready to surrender. He had been from the moment he’d opened his eyes to find her standing in front of him. He had been from the moment he’d left his apartment this morning to find her standing on the sidewalk, next to his car.

  “I want to take you home,” he murmured, pressing her even closer to him, making certain she knew how much he wanted her. “I want to take off your clothes and make love to you.”

  Her voice was husky too. “Isn’t this where you say ‘but’ and tell me a thousand reasons why we can’t do that?”

  “No buts this time. I can’t fight this anymore. You win.” He laughed. “In some ways, I guess I win too.” He kissed her again, sweetly, slowly—a promise of the pleasure-filled night to come. He felt her catch her breath, felt her tremble in his arms. “I spoke to Santiago today.”

  Her eyes were wide as she pulled back to look at him.

  “I told him that I couldn’t be your guardian any longer. He guessed the reason why.”

  Somehow Santiago had known that he and Marisala were on the verge of becoming lovers. He had seemed pleased about it, even when Liam had rejected his offer.

  “Did he…” She had trouble saying it, and had to take a breath and start again. “Did he try to talk you into?…”

  “Yeah.” Liam nodded. “He offered me a rather substantial dowry to marry you.”

  Marisala closed her eyes. “Oh, no.”

  “I turned him down. I told him I didn’t need his money.” He took her hand and pulled her off the dance floor. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  The relief that flooded through her was laced with an odd disappointment. But what had she thought? That Liam would want to marry her? Surely she knew better than that. Besides, she wasn’t interested in marriage.

&nb
sp; Once outside of the ballroom, they went down the stairs to the hotel lobby much too slowly. Marisala forced herself to hang back, to let Liam lead. He’d told her that often enough—to keep from coming on too strong even in a conversation, let the other person lead. Let them set the pace and tone.

  Liam looked impossibly handsome dressed in his tuxedo. The jacket and pants were tailored to fit him perfectly, and the black color made his golden hair gleam in contrast. His eyes had never looked so blue.

  He led her across the ritzy hotel lobby at a pace that nearly made her scream with frustration. She wanted to get home now. Sooner than now! She wanted to run to his car and pull out of the parking lot with squealing tires. She wanted…

  Before they reached the doors, Liam took a quick turn and drew her with him off to the side onto a small balcony. No one else was there, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  His kisses were in direct contrast to his seemingly easygoing pace. They were possessive and fierce, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.

  “I want to throw you over my shoulder and run all the way home,” he whispered, “but if I do, everyone will know why we’re leaving so early.”

  “I think they probably know anyway,” she told him. There was not a single woman in that hotel who hadn’t given Liam a second glance and Marisala an envious look.

  Liam tilted her chin, studying her upturned face in the dim light as he led her back into the lobby and out the main doors onto the sidewalk. “God, I knew you were pretty, but when you go all out, you’re…Mara, forget about medical school. You could make a fortune as a fashion model.”

  “Ah, just what the women of San Salustiano need—a fashion model to lead them in their fight for equal rights.”

  He laughed. “Good point. But, you know you can’t live your entire life for other people. You have to do some things simply because you want to do them.” He started down the sidewalk. “I’m parked about a block down—right on the street.”

  “I do plenty of things for myself,” she countered. “Right now, for instance, I’m going home to do something entirely for myself.” She smiled. “With your help, of course. And you do get some fringe benefits.”