by BETH KERY
“What happened?” Natalie wondered.
“I wanted to know that myself, so I took an awful slow walk to the locker room. My dad reamed Bragg out. Nothing physical happened, but it seemed to come close to blows a few times.” Liam shook his head as if to clear it. “I never saw my coach the same way after that. I used to be intimidated by him, but the memory of how scared he looked while my dad let him have it changed that forever. He never got rough with any of us kids again. I can only imagine what my father threatened him with, if he did. Legal action, probably.”
“You remember it so well. It must have made a big impact on you.”
“I’m thinking Coach Bragg remembers it a hell of a lot better than me,” Liam said wryly before he ate a slice of roasted potato.
“I can imagine. Your father seems bigger than life.”
“He made friends wherever he went. My mom used to say he could have charmed the devil into doing good deeds.”
Natalie smiled as she buttered a steaming roll. “Sounds like a true Irishman.”
Liam’s angular jaw slowed in its chewing motion. Natalie paused when she saw the way his stare speared her.
“Why don’t you just go ahead and ask it, Natalie?”
“Ask what?”
“Why don’t you just ask whether or not my father was a true Irishman in another stereotypical sense? You want to know about his drinking habits.”
Natalie carefully set down her ice water, acutely aware of penetrating dangerous territory without intent. Well, she was here now. Might as well deal with it.
“Eric told me that during the hearings, your mother testified that your dad was merely a social drinker. She insisted she never saw Derry drunk.”
“And you don’t believe her?” Liam asked with what struck Natalie as forced neutrality.
“I would believe it if you told me that was true.”
He glanced up sharply. Their gazes held. Natalie realized muted live music was trickling in from the bar area of the restaurant—a piano, a drummer and a saxophone.
Liam was the first to break their stare.
“I try to give my mom the benefit of the doubt, even if Deidre never has. I think my mother believed what she said in court was true.”
“Deidre doubts your mother’s opinion on the matter?” Natalie asked, referring to Liam’s eldest sister.
“Yeah,” Liam said broodingly. “That’s why Deidre never comes back to Harbor Town, or at least that’s what my brother, Marc, has insinuated. Deidre has never spoken to me about it, but I guess she holds my mom responsible for being in denial about my father’s drinking.”
Natalie sat back in the booth, stunned. “What do you think, Liam?”
He jabbed at a chunk of chicken but he didn’t eat it.
“I remember him drinking regularly when he came home from work. It mellowed him, made him more cheerful. He seemed to need it to unwind. I never even thought about it, until after the crash. I never saw him drunk, but the truth is…”
He set down his fork abruptly and looked across the table at her. “One of my dad’s closest friends at the end of a hard day was a bottle of whiskey.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she said quietly after a strained moment. He nodded and picked up his fork.
Natalie exhaled with difficulty. She could tell by the tension in his face it hadn’t been an easy admission for him to make. It might have even been the first time he’d ever admitted it out loud.
And he’d done it in front of her—a Reyes. She resisted an urge to reach across the table and place her hand on top of his in gratitude.
In compassion.
“So…” she began shakily, determined to get them back on steady ground. “We can safely say that, although your father was no stranger to drinking, his behavior on the night of the crash was unusual. He was bitter and surly that night, when he was usually the essence of charm. He typically drank socially, or at home, but you never saw him heavily intoxicated. He likely drank alone at some point that night. Well past his normal limit.”
“He wanted to get smashed,” Liam stated bluntly.
“Yeah,” Natalie whispered. “But why?”
Liam shook his head, obviously frustrated at not knowing the answer. “Most people get totaled like that when they’re upset about something—breakups, sudden deaths…stuff like that.”
“Right. Nothing like that happened in your family, though?”
“Nothing that I know of.”
“Your mother and father…were they getting along okay? Did you ever hear any fighting?” she asked hesitantly.
“No. I was only fifteen at the time, I know, but I’d say the same thing now as an adult. My mom and dad seemed to have a great marriage. They were like kids together sometimes. My mom has never really gotten over my dad’s death.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment as Natalie tried to incorporate this information into what she already knew.
“The fact that he came to Harbor Town on a Tuesday—that’s got to be relevant. He must have learned about something or found something out in Chicago and that was what upset him,” Liam said, breaking the silence.
“Something about the Langford investigation, maybe?” Natalie wondered.
Liam shook his head. “No, like I said, he knew no charges were going to be pressed in regard to the SEC’s investigation.”
“Maybe he found out some other insider secret at his company, some wrongdoing that no one knew about. And it upset him.”
Liam grimaced. “Maybe, but that doesn’t seem to fit.”
“Why?”
He paused, as if searching for the right words. “You had to know my dad. The way he acted on the night of the crash—it wasn’t like a ‘business’ thing. It seemed…personal.”
“You were really struck about what Roger Dayson said about coming upon your dad that night on the beach, weren’t you?” she asked quietly.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Liam admitted gruffly. “I can’t even fathom it, to be honest. I can’t picture it in my mind, my dad standing on that beach sobbing.”
Neither of them spoke while Natalie finished her dinner. An oppressive fog seemed to have settled around them. One haunting thought kept echoing around in her mind.
She was the one responsible for putting Liam through this ordeal. What right did she have, to make him suffer for his father’s mistake?
“To hell with this,” Liam said so abruptly she started. He hitched his chin and grabbed her hand where it’d been resting on the table. “Let’s go dance.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“What? You’re not going to try and tell me you don’t like dancing,” he said, a small smile flickering across his mouth.
She couldn’t tell him her like or dislike of dancing wasn’t what was causing her to hesitate. It was the idea of being in Liam’s arms.
She let him draw her out of the booth, but she shoved on her glasses first. The bar and dance floor might be crowded.
He didn’t let go of her hand as they walked through the intimate dining room toward the bar. Natalie breathed a small sigh of relief when she saw there were only two other couples slow dancing to a jazz classic on the small dance floor. Liam turned and slid his left hand along her waist, his body instantly shifting to the beat of the music.
He pulled her closer, his hand spreading along the middle of her spine. Their bodies brushed together.
It was just a dance. Natalie knew this.
Her mind knew it; yet her body seemed to be screaming that it was something much, much more.
She stared blindly at a spot just below Liam’s shoulder while the band played. Her heart began to beat erratically when she felt him lower his head. His chin turned, nuzzling her, his short goatee whisking across her temple.
“It’s like holding on to a dream, feeling the way you move.”
She glanced up—couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d tried. What he’d said didn’t seem to match up to his expr
ession. He looked strange…like he was irritated…or torn?
“Don’t think I go around saying crap like that,” he added stiffly. “I mean…it…it wasn’t crap. It was the truth. Honestly.” She saw his strong throat ripple as he swallowed.
An uncontrollable wave of sensation went through her at the sight of Liam Kavanaugh looking uncomfortable.
Liam Kavanaugh.
She ducked her head. Natalie couldn’t decide what had stunned her more, the excitement caused by his warm breath and hoarse whisper in her ear or his unexpected revelation. His compliment had been undeniably sweet, but also electric somehow…erotically charged.
Why had that been?
Her heart fell to the vicinity of her belly when she realized why.
Because despite Liam’s reputation as a charming playboy, she’d believed every word he’d said.
Her body buzzed with sensual awareness. As if Liam knew this perfectly, he pulled her closer. Her breasts pressed tight against his ribs. Their hips moved together. The music flowed not just through her, but Liam as well, joining them…entwining them. She couldn’t decide where his heat began and hers ended.
She couldn’t help but consider in wonder what it would be like to move even more intimately with Liam, to be joined with him so deeply that she felt his heartbeat at her very core.
The shivery sound of the drummer’s brush lightly caressing the cymbals caused a tingling sensation to mount beneath her skin. The music ceased. She leaned her head back and peered up at Liam dazedly. His hand shifted as he drew off her glasses.
She peered up at him through eyelids that had gone heavy. His expression went hard. His nostrils flared. For some reason, his fearsome expression made her lips part in anticipation.
The saxophone wailed the opening notes to a new song. Natalie blinked. The two other couples were leaving the dance floor. Their faces were so bland, as if they hadn’t noticed the magic of the moment at all.
The thought penetrated her sensual lassitude. She started out of Liam’s arms. He didn’t say anything when she took her glasses from him, donned them and walked toward the dining room.
They hardly spoke for the next several minutes, the one exception being when Liam grabbed the bill from her when they returned to the table.
“You shouldn’t have to pay, it’s a business exp—”
She pulled up short when she saw the expression on Liam’s face. She’d been about to say the dinner was a business expense, but he’d halted her with a glance. He flipped a credit card into the leather folder. They waited in silence while the waiter returned, and the silence still hadn’t broken once they got in the car and reached the outskirts of Harbor Town.
Natalie wasn’t being silent to be obstinate. She was being quiet because her thoughts were coming too fast and chaotic to form a coherent sentence. Had she really been so keyed into him out there on the dance floor that she’d lost all sense of time, or purpose…or self? She’d known she was uncommonly attracted to Liam, but this was…unprecedented, in her experience.
And why was he so silent and somber? She wondered nervously as she gave him a sideways glance as he drove. His shirt showed up starkly white in the darkness, lit up as it was with moonglow. Despite all her uncertainty about the wisdom of her desire, she longed to ask him into her town house. But maybe—given his withdrawal—he wouldn’t be interested? Surely he was second-guessing his occasional moments of attraction toward her, as well.
Second-guessing it…regretting it?
Liam had turned on the air-conditioning, but the atmosphere seemed to froth and boil in the small confines of the car. At last, he pulled into her driveway and the car came to a halt. He remained turned in profile, confusing her even more.
“Thank you for dinner,” she tried to say, but her nervousness made her voice come out as a whisper. “Liam?” she asked when he didn’t respond, just repositioned his hands on the top of the steering wheel.
“Yeah?”
“Are you…are you going to tell me about the meeting with your mother?” Natalie asked, suspecting the topic was partially responsible for his strange mood.
His face was cast with shadows, but she could feel his stare when he turned his head. “There isn’t much to tell. I told her I was trying to gather information to better understand what Dad was going through when he caused the accident. I asked her about him coming home from the city on the night of the crash. She essentially told me I was being disrespectful to my father’s memory and that I was a huge disappointment to her for agreeing to investigate the matter.”
“Oh, no,” Natalie whispered.
He laughed mirthlessly and reached for her hand. He pulled it into his lap.
“It’s okay. She was just taken off guard. I breached her defenses unexpectedly, if you know what I mean, so she had to let go with the heavy artillery.”
“Still…I’m sorry. It was never my intention to alienate you and your mother.”
“I know that,” Liam replied. Natalie became highly aware of the side of her hand resting on his muscular thigh and the way he stroked her wrist and thumb with warm, calloused fingertips. “Truth is, I’m mad at myself.”
“Why?” Natalie asked.
“I should have asked her years ago. I’ve been a coward, colluding with her silence.”
“No,” Natalie protested warmly, leaning forward. “You’re not a coward. That’s ridiculous. It’s like you said—families keep this stuff close. It’s normal that you and your brother and sister have followed Brigit’s lead in that regard.”
His low grunt sounded doubtful, but Natalie knew she likely wasn’t going to talk him out of his opinion.
“And so you told her that it was me who had asked you to do the investigation?”
“Yeah,” he said. He seemed preoccupied as he watched himself stroke her hand. She, too, was distracted. It was hard to concentrate while Liam touched her.
“Your mother couldn’t have been very thrilled about that.”
He looked up. “No. She wasn’t. That was about when she accused me of agreeing to investigate my father just because you were pretty. Apparently my mother thinks you charmed me into it, and I was too helpless to refuse.”
Natalie gave an uncomfortable laugh. “I know that made you mad.”
“It did.” He turned her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Natalie responded naturally and closed her hand, holding him. Her heartbeat started to throb against her eardrums.
“But like I told you yesterday, she was partially right,” Liam continued.
Natalie searched out his features in the dim light and saw the moonlight gleaming in his eyes.
“I do want you, Natalie,” he admitted with disarming honesty. “I have since that night I saw you on the beach.”
A swooping sensation occurred in her belly. She couldn’t identify it as nervousness or excitement. He wanted her…as in wanted her in bed.
Liam Kavanaugh. Wanted her.
Awkward, self-conscious, inexperienced, scarred Natalie.
He gave a small, incredulous laugh. Natalie realized several taut seconds had elapsed while her brain had tried to compute Liam’s words.
“You’re not going to say anything, are you? About the fact that I just said I wanted to make love to you?”
“I’m not so sure it’d be…wise,” she finally replied in a cracking voice.
“Yeah, I’d figured out that much myself, believe it or not. Knowing doesn’t seem to be quieting the need any. Not a bit,” he added wryly under his breath. For a few seconds, the silence stretched.
“But this has got nothing to do with wisdom,” Liam said suddenly. He released her hand only to bury his hands in her hair. Natalie sat in the car seat, frozen as he furrowed his fingers through the long strands. She couldn’t see his face, but she sensed his intensity.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all night. It ought to be made illegal for you to hide your hair. It’s so soft.”
Something swelled in her chest at
the sound of awe in his deep voice.
Her hair slid through his fingers as he released it. His hands settled on her jaw, bracketing her face. The gesture struck her as tender…cherishing even. His head lowered over her and he spoke a fraction of an inch next to her lips.
“Tell me that you feel it, too.”
She couldn’t squeeze a word out of her throat, so she just nodded once.
And then he was kissing her, and everything faded away—her inexperience, their history, the tragedy, the hurt…the unanswered questions.
Nothing existed but Liam’s hungry mouth and her own erupting need.
Chapter Seven
He felt her heat beneath him; he felt her soften. The wholehearted consent of her body was even sweeter to him than her small nod of agreement had been.
Desire roared through his veins when she put her hands on his shoulders and caressed the muscles, making it the hardest trial of his life to keep a tight reign on himself. He couldn’t stop his hands from moving, though. As he discovered the secrets of Natalie’s mouth more thoroughly, his palms and fingers explored the mysteries of her body. She was like magic made into flesh: all taut, delicious curves and supple straight lines. He ran his hands from the indentation of her waist to her hips, finding the swell intoxicating. He settled on those curves and caressed them softly.
Her taste was like lust double-distilled.
When he realized he was quickly getting drunk on it, he sealed their kiss with effort. Her kisses were so sweet, but her occasional hesitance made him suspect she wasn’t all that experienced. He should go slowly with her or he’d risk ruining things. He couldn’t stop himself from plucking at her damp, warm lips, though. His hands moved, seemingly of their own accord, sweeping up the sides of her body.
