by Lori Foster
Dangerous. Very, very dangerous—most especially to her heart.
They reentered the kitchen just as the rain came in a deluge, washing over the windows and filling the house with noise. Jack whined and tucked himself closer to her legs, nearly causing her to stumble.
“I guess I won’t be patching the roof today.”
Liv wanted to comfort Jack, but leaks were a major priority. She put a hand to the dog’s neck and started for the hallway. “Don’t worry about it. I was going to hire someone next week, anyway.”
“Fibber.”
Affronted, Liv jerked around at the base of the stairs—and saw the gleam in Ham’s eyes. He always saw right through her.
She scowled at him.
He smiled crookedly and shook his head. “You can’t lie to me, Liv.”
“All right,” she grouched, stomping up the steps to avoid his astute gaze. “It’s a fib. Big deal.”
“Why tell it in the first place?”
“Because I don’t want to be indebted to you.” The second the words left her mouth, she felt the change in the air.
“Don’t push it, Liv.” At the top of the stairs, he caught her elbow and drew her around to face him. Jack looked between the two of them, alert to the new tension in the air, wary. “There’s something between us. It’s been there for years.” His voice lowered, his expression hard. “It will always be there.”
“No.”
“Yes.” To make his point, he backed her up to the wall, looming, imposing. He still held the buckets in his hands, so he used his chest, pressing in on her, keeping her immobile. His mouth grazed her throat, up the side of her neck to her ear, where his tongue gently explored.
“Ham…” Her protest came out a breathless plea.
“Anything you need, Liv,” he whispered, “anything you want, you can always get from me.”
Her heartbeat drummed and her mouth went dry. Against the hard muscled wall of his broad chest, her nipples drew tight. Her stomach bottomed out when his thigh pressed against her belly….
And he stepped away, not far, but enough that their bodies no longer touched. “This is a tough time, honey, I know that. Your world has just been turned upside down. And for that reason, as much as any other, I won’t let you keep your distance.”
Speechless, Liv stared up at him. With every fiber of her being, she wanted him. It didn’t matter that she knew firsthand how much heartache resulted from loving an officer. She well remembered her mother’s tears and prayers when her father was away. It had been awful then. It’d be ten times more so with Ham.
On the ridiculous hope that by not seeing him, she could distance herself a little from his emotional pull, her eyes sank closed. She sucked in several deep breaths to steady herself, to shore up her wavering resolve.
When she opened her eyes again, Hamilton was halfway down the hallway. As he sauntered away, apparently unaware of her inner turmoil, she stared at the long line of his back, the muscled length of his thighs. His too-tight tush.
Emotionally she wanted him.
Physically she craved him.
Mentally, she knew he could break her heart for good. But the yearning swelled inside her, almost unbearable.
Maybe, just maybe if she indulged her needs—all her needs—when he left again, it wouldn’t be so bad. She’d have memories to comfort her through the lonely years, memories to cling to if, God forbid, he never returned.
And maybe, if the worst happened, it’d also be a balm to Hamilton in his last moments. He’d always been there for her. He was here for her now. He’d always given to her, and now, she had the opportunity to give back.
The excuses sounded lame even to her, but deep down, she’d known what would eventually happen. And right now, she was just plain too weak to fight his appeal.
HAMILTON FELT HER STARE, her interest. Little by little, he was wearing her down. Soon, with any luck and continued patience, she’d admit to her true feelings. She’d tell him she loved him—and then he could tell her about their future, a future of compromise. A future he’d designed just for her.
A future that he felt sure would keep her content.
He glanced into the first small room, devoid of furniture but with a growing stain on the ceiling and a puddle forming on the floor. “I’ve got this one,” he called back to her, aware of her standing immobile right where he’d left her.
Shaken.
Aroused.
When he spoke, his voice was even, his tone level, but his calm was deceptive. The feel of her warmed skin, her stiffened nipples and fast breath had fired him in return. He had an erection that almost hurt, from months of celibacy and years of wanting. His muscles were stiff, his abdomen rigid with restraint.
Walking away hadn’t been easy, but damn it, he had his pride, too, along with his own share of fears.
Even as a child, Liv had been bright and observant, so she knew Weston was the closest thing to a father he’d ever had. His own parents hadn’t factored heavily into his life, more prone to ignoring him than caring for him. If it hadn’t been for Weston and the air force, Hamilton knew he would have been alone in the world, and probably more in trouble than out of it.
He loved Liv, more than anything life could offer, but the air force had become a vital part of him, harnessing the wildness and refining his leadership instincts. It gave him a purpose that meshed with the most intrinsic part of his personality. And flying fed his soul. It was as simple as that.
If Liv refused to see it…He shook his head, unable to abide the idea of leaving himself open to cold rejection. He knew, deep down inside, that she cared for him, too. But with her refusal to admit it, how could he possibly throw his heart at her feet? How did he know if she loved him enough?
He needed her to confide in him. He needed her trust. And then he could trust her in return.
After placing three buckets beneath drips that left large, dark wet spots on her ceiling, he reentered the hall. Liv was in the room across from him, another small bedroom with no furnishings.
Seeing her on her knees, mopping up a spill before placing the bucket beneath it, brought out all his protective instincts. Ham rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve his tension. “Liv?”
She went still, then glanced up. Eyes wide and watchful, and full of some indefinable emotion, she waited.
“It occurs to me,” Ham said, “that you only have one bedroom.”
Slowly she came to her feet. A look of expectancy replaced the wariness in her expression. “Yes.”
Not yet, Ham cautioned himself. If she wanted him physically, it’d help to ease her into an emotional commitment. “I can camp out on the couch.”
She said nothing to that.
“But is it all right if I store my stuff in this room? I don’t want to leave it cluttering your foyer.”
“All right.”
So enigmatic. Ham crossed his arms over his chest. “You sleep downstairs?”
“In the only furnished bedroom, yes.”
Close to the couch. But close enough?
She said abruptly, “Jack is spooked.” Moving past Ham, she led the dog back toward the stairs. “When I sit with him, he feels better.”
But rather than follow her, Jack paused at Ham’s side and whined.
“Come on, Jack,” Liv said, but still the dog hesitated. Ears back, head low, he whined again.
At least the dog was on his side, Ham decided. “I guess he wants us all together.”
Liv opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Hiding his smile, Ham patted the dog. “Let’s go, boy. The lady is waiting.”
Jack followed Ham downstairs, then back upstairs again as he stored his things in the spare room. “I should change your name to Shadow,” Ham teased the dog. But when he saw Liv standing at the window, watching the pouring rain, his heart went out to her. She appeared so dejected, so…alone, that he felt guilty having her dog’s attention.
A loud boom of thunder shook
the house, and in a flash, Jack was at her side. Liv’s nurturing nature took over and she spent several minutes calming the dog. Ham absorbed the picture she made, gentle and sweet and patient. He could easily see her with a classroom full of kids, relating, guiding, teaching.
He could also see her with a baby in her arms—his baby. She would be a phenomenal mother. He imagined the four of them, himself and Liv, Jack and a toddler, settled into the cozy little house in Colorado Springs. She’d be happy there, because he’d make it so.
He’d only seen the house in Internet ads, but as soon as he’d been approached with the offer to be a permanent professor at the academy, he started weighing the pros and cons.
God knew he’d miss being squadron commander, but he’d be promoted to colonel. He’d stay on active duty longer, but they’d never have to move away from the Air Force Academy. The two years it’d take for him to get his Ph.D. would be trying, but he’d stay on full pay during that time, and if Liv knew the end result, that they could be the kind of family she wanted…
Once he convinced Liv, they could check out the house together. She’d enjoy buying new furniture, or planting flowers.
The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of their food and releasing Ham from visions of a perfect future. He answered the door while Liv got out dishes and drinks. She knew him well enough that she automatically poured him milk with his dinner.
Jack curled up beneath the table, determined to stay close but mannered enough not to beg or make a nuisance of himself. The entire setting felt cozy, especially when the lights flickered and then went out. At the dinner hour, it normally wouldn’t have been so dark. But the storm-filled sky, thick with black clouds, lent the sense of midnight.
Liv stilled with her glass of iced tea near her mouth.
“Do you have any candles?”
She swallowed her bite of fried cabbage and nodded. “In the drawer by the sink. Matches are there, too.”
Ham located a fat scented candle and set it in the middle of the table. Liv watched him as he lit it. Soft illumination danced across her features, and he felt prompted to say, “Does this remind you of that time in California, when an earthquake took out the electricity?”
Memories surfaced, and she gave a small smile. “Daddy was off somewhere, but you came over to stay with me until the worst of it was over.”
Ham remembered that he hadn’t wanted to leave at all, even hours later when things were again calm. But she was young then, and he’d had too much respect for her and her father to ever overstep himself.
“You denied being scared.” He grinned. “You were what? All of eighteen then—a woman, but still so young. Cute as hell. And so damned independent I thought you were going to throw me out in the middle of the quake just to prove you didn’t need me there.”
Chagrined, she rubbed away her smile. “I didn’t want you to know how nervous I was. Daddy didn’t like it when I gave in to fears.”
Reaching across the table, Ham took her hand. “Everyone gets afraid sometimes.”
“Not you.”
He half laughed until he realized she was serious. Then he shook his head. “Hell, honey, I live with fear.”
Her somber eyes filled with sympathy. “Because of the danger in what you do?”
“No.” Being totally honest, he said, “When I’m in a plane, instincts kick in. There isn’t time for fear, because I’m too busy reacting. I’m well trained, the air force has seen to that, and there’s a level of arrogance in knowing how qualified I am, sort of a feeling of invulnerability.”
She watched his face and her fingers tightened on his. “You love it, don’t you?”
Not like he loved her. “It’s hard to explain, Liv. What I do…It’s a calling to protect and serve my country, a calling I’ve felt compelled to follow since I was a kid. Just as you feel the need to teach. The air force is me, and I’m the air force.”
He felt her need to understand. It was there in her gaze, in the way she clutched at his hand, the sadness in her eyes. “I guess I have enough fear for both of us.”
Ham wanted her love and loyalty. Perhaps he should start by giving to her first. “So you want to know what does scare me?”
“What?”
He leaned closer. “You.”
“Me?” Her laugh was nervous and self-conscious.
“Yeah, you. You’re the most important person in the world to me, Liv, don’t you know that? You’re my family, and my friend. You’re the woman I think about when missiles and antiaircraft fire are thick. I fear leaving you alone. I fear never seeing you again.”
Her bottom lip began to quiver, and tears again threatened, breaking his heart. She was so precious to him, and she didn’t even realize it.
Damned emotion clogged his throat and he paused to swallow. Deliberately lightening the mood to spare her, he said, “Look at all this good food going to waste. Let’s finish up because I have something I want to show you.”
She accepted the change in topic gratefully. Pulling her hand away, she bit her lip and nodded. But then she paused, raising her face to his. “Ham?”
His heart pounded. “Yeah, baby?”
The seconds ticked by, and the tension grew.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “for being here with me.”
“Always.” He touched her chin, smoothed her jaw.
Her smile wavered, softened. With reluctance, she gave her attention back to her food.
When their plates were almost empty, she asked, “So. What are you going to show me?”
Another touchy subject, but one that couldn’t be avoided. “Before we see the funeral director tomorrow, I wanted to go over your dad’s belongings with you. I took some photos off his desk that might be nice to have at the ceremony, some commendations, too. The photos might be nice to display.”
“Daddy would like it to be a big event.”
Ham nodded. “Regular military funeral. Bugler, twenty-one gun salute…”
“The works.”
“Yeah.” He watched her face, and felt her pain. “You’ve been to military funerals before.”
“Too many.” She gripped her hands together. Knowing that many military members would attend the service, she said, “Whiteman is an eight-hour trip, at least. Will that cause a problem with the funeral set so soon?”
“A tanker will bring the wing commander and most of the men from your father’s office. The word will get around, so there’ll be others, too. Those he’s served with who are at other bases, and local retired military and their families—they’ll all want to pay their respects. Military folks are tight, you know that.”
“Yes.” She drew a breath. “I’ve never handled a funeral before.”
Hating to see her tension, Ham reached for her hands, drew her up from her seat. “Weston died on active duty, Liv, so the air force will provide funeral benefits and arrange the burial ceremony.”
She turned her face up to his, brave and beautiful and his—if only she’d realize it.
“Even now, the air force plays such a big role in his life. But this time, I have to admit that I’m grateful.”
More thunder rumbled. Rain lashed the windows and lightning flickered. He cupped her cheek. “I told you, we’re one big family.” And then he kissed her—and he didn’t want to stop.
CHAPTER FOUR
LIV KNEW SHE DIDN’T WANT to sleep alone that night. Ham was right—it didn’t matter if she admitted how she felt or not because no one would ever replace him in her heart.
She made up her mind as Ham struggled to rein in his hunger. Not once in the many years she’d known him had he ever shirked what he considered his duty. He was honorable to the core, dedicated to caring for others, driven by a deep and patriotic love of his country.
How could she not love him?
His forehead touching hers, he whispered, “I shouldn’t keep doing this.”
“This?” Liv stroked her hands over the soft cotton T-shirt he wore, across his ch
est, up and over his shoulders.
“You aren’t thinking straight.”
She laughed, feeling lighthearted for the first time since he’d arrived at her classroom. “Does that mean my thinking is bent?”
He squeezed her. “It means I picked a bad time to keep coming on to you.”
“I think it’s the perfect time.” And she went on tiptoes to kiss him again.
Ham groaned, taking control of the kiss, pulling her into the hard lines of his body. Their breathing soughed in the quiet night, vying with the violent storm.
He wrenched away. “Liv, wait….”
“Why?”
He caught her face and held her still. Eyes smoldering with heat, he asked, “Do you love me?”
Liv recoiled from the idea of giving away so much. If she told him her deepest feelings, that she’d loved him forever and probably always would, there’d be no going back. She knew Ham, knew how he thought and how determined he could be.
She licked dry lips. “I want to make love with you.”
Something in his expression chilled and became distant. He stepped back. Every bit the officer, he held himself straight and proud—yet somehow wounded. “Let’s sit down and I’ll sort your dad’s things with you.”
“Hamilton…”
“You need time,” he insisted. “Time to deal with your loss and to come to grips with your feelings. You need sleep. You need…” Unblinking, he stared at her, then shook his head. “You need me to stop pressing you. Come on.” He picked up the candle with one hand and reached out for her with the other.
Given that she had electric heat, the house had quickly begun to cool during the power outage. The spring storm had brought with it chilly temperatures and window-rattling wind. She wore a sweatshirt, but Ham wore only a T-shirt. He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable though.
The moment they left the table, Jack scooted out from underneath and chased after them. Candlelight danced and spread out, leaving dark shadows in her small family room. Once Liv sat on the couch, Jack dropped across her feet with a lusty doggy sigh. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but she enjoyed his nearness as much as he enjoyed being near.
