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."
Luke frowned. "But we've had the site surveyed," he said. "And the architect already designed cabins that will blend in with the countryside. The workers are scheduled to break ground at the end of September. If the architect has to start over with a new location, it would delay the project until next spring."
"That won't be a big deal to Avery," Lib said. "He'll be sitting on that cool million he just got from you. It's the workers who are going to suffer — the guys you've lined up to build the cabins. They're going to be laid off before they even start. If you want the project to go ahead, if you want Avery to lease your land, if you want those guys to stay employed, you're going to have to bust your chops to make it work."
Luke stood up, and his sudden movement made the porch swing rock crazily. Lib braced her feet against the wooden floor in order to stop the swinging as Luke crossed to the porch railing. He stood, looking out at the dark night sky.
"You don't think I should buy back the land," he said, with his back to her.
"I've told you what I think," Lib said quietly. "I think you already own that land because you own a share in the corporation."
He turned toward her, but his face was shadowed. "I don't know what to say to make you understand how I feel—"
"I know how you feel," Lib said, standing up and crossing to him. "I do understand. I just happen to disagree with you. I think you still own that land, and I think it's valuable as a part of the resort — more valuable than it'll ever be standing on its own."
Luke was looking back out into the darkness, and Lib had to wonder if he'd heard anything she'd said.
"I should go," he said abruptly. "It's getting late."
He kissed her lightly, distractedly, then started down the steps.
Lib ached to call out to him, to beg him to come back, but he didn't turn around to look at her or even to wave before the darkness swallowed him up.
She shivered, more from the chilliness of Luke's good-bye than the cool night air.
* * *
Luke couldn't sleep.
His digital clock clicked down every minute from two to three a.m., and still Luke lay awake, staring up at the ceiling.
He wasn't really worried about the sale of the video stores. Sure, there was a chance that it could fall through. But worrying wasn't his style.
So why couldn't he sleep?
Because he couldn't stop thinking about Liberty.
All evening long, he'd been looking forward to kissing her good night. All evening long, he had longed to feel her arms around him, pulling him close as she met his lips hungrily, as she matched each of his kisses fiercely.
So what did he do? He walked away without properly kissing her good-bye.
He could still see the flash of hurt confusion in her eyes as he turned away from her.
He'd hated the fact that she had disagreed with him about buying back the Fulton land. It bothered him, and he wasn't really sure why. It wasn't as if they'd never disagreed about anything before.
Maybe it was because buying back that land had consumed his every waking thought for the past five years. It had become his reason for living, his motivation to succeed.
Before
he met Liberty Jones, that is.
For so long, he'd never looked past the five year deadline that was now so rapidly approaching. For so many years, he couldn't see beyond that September 15th date — he didn't bother to look further.
But now he did.
Lib was his future now, and that future was looking pretty damn good.
Provided that he didn't go and blow it...
He owed Lib an apology. And he'd be a fool if he left without giving one to her. He'd be a fool if he left without seeing her, without saying good-bye.
He sat up suddenly, looking over at the clock. Quarter after four. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and went quickly into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
If he hurried he'd have enough time...
* * *
Lib's front door creaked as Luke pushed it open. The house was quiet and dark. He closed the door behind him and went up the front staircase, his shoes sounding loud in the hushed stillness of the early morning.
The door to Lib's bedroom was open and the shades hadn't been pulled, letting in the soft light of the moon.
Luke stood silently in the doorway, listening to Lib's steady breathing, watching her sleep.
She was lying almost sideways on the double bed, her sheets tangled around her, her hair spread out across her pillow. She slept on her stomach, one arm tucked under her head, the other thrown out wide, as if she were embracing the entire bed. One of her legs was bent, and the other was outstretched, her foot dangling off the side of the mattress.
She was wearing... Lord, she was wearing a man's white cotton racer-back undershirt and a very brief pair of white panties. Luke swallowed. Lord knows he'd seen more than his share of fancy lingerie in his time, but nothing he'd seen, no matter how expensive or lacy, had ever come close to turning him on the way Lib's makeshift nightwear did.
He knew he should go. If he woke her up, the way he'd intended to, if she smiled at him, if he touched her, he'd never leave. Never. But instead of turning around and walking down the stairs, his legs took him further into Lib's room.
Luke stood next to her bed, looking down at her. Her eyelashes looked about a mile long, lying against her sun-kissed cheeks. Her mouth looked so soft and moist, so inviting.
He felt the last tenuous bonds of his self-control straining, and he forced himself back, back toward the door. But before he'd even taken two steps, she stirred, rolling onto her back and gazing up at him with sleepy eyes.
"Luke?" Her voice was thick with sleep. She sat up and Luke realized that the T-shirt she was wearing was old and worn and virtually transparent. Her breasts were full, with large dark tips that showed clearly through her shirt. "What time is it?" she asked, turning to look at her alarm clock.
Twenty to five. Lib pushed her messy hair back from her face and looked at Luke. He was standing in the middle of her room, dressed to the nines in a black, well-tailored suit. Instead of a traditional white shirt, his shirt was also black, as was his tie. The effect was outrageously attractive, emphasizing his dark good looks.
"You came over to say good-bye," she said, correctly guessing the reason he was in her bedroom. "I'm glad." She smiled at him rather wistfully. "I didn't get a chance to say good luck to you last night. So... good luck."
Luke's mouth was dry, and he couldn't for the life of him remember one single thing he'd intended to say to her. Apologize, he thought suddenly. That's right. He'd wanted to apologize.
"Lib, I'm sorry about last night," he said, and even though he knew he shouldn't, he sat down next to her on the bed. The springs sagged and moaned underneath his weight. "I wanted you to know that it's okay with me if we don't agree about me buying back the land." He looked down at his hands, tightly clasped in his lap. "I also wanted you to know how very important buying this land is to me. It's been the focus of my entire life for nearly five years. When I sold the land, I swore to myself that somehow I'd get the money and I'd buy it back. I've got to do it." He glanced up at her, and for several long seconds he forgot everything, lost in the beautiful violet color of her eyes.
"I know that," she said gently. "I just wanted to be sure you'd thought it all through, you know, considered it from more than just an emotional angle." She smiled at him suddenly, a quick, bright flash of sunshine. "Man, you smell good. And that suit... " She gave him a once over and then a thumbs up. "It works for me. You look great—"
"You do, too." There was no mistaking the heat in his dark eyes. "Your outfit works for me, too." He leaned forward and kissed her lazily. "It works extremely well."
He kissed her again, and Lib looped her arms up, around his neck. His dark hair was still damp from his shower, and his freshly shaven cheeks were smooth and soft against her face. She could taste toothpaste as he kissed her harder, the laziness of his earlier kiss replaced by an urgency that took them both by surprise.
Lib pulled him back with her, back onto the bed, and still he kissed her, deep, passionate kisses that sent rockets of heat soaring through her.
He was on top of her now, murmuring her name as he kissed her again and again. His hands swept her body, touching, caressing, and Lib heard herself moan. Oh, she'd waited so long for him to touch her this way. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close to her, and that seemed to drive him wild.
"God, Lib," he said. Breathing hard, he pulled back to look down at the woman in his arms. Her eyes were smoky with desire, and she lifted her mouth to be kissed again, as if the few seconds that had passed since he'd last kissed her were way too long.
So he kissed her. "Lib, I want — Can we...?"
"Yes," she said, smiling up at him. "Definitely, yes."
Luke had planned to take Lib out to dinner on the night he bought back his land. He was planning to ask her to marry him that night. If everything went according to plan, she would say yes, and then he'd bring her home, only this time when she went inside, he would go with her. That was how he'd imagined they'd make love for the first time. It wasn't supposed to happen this way, but Luke was beyond caring. He wanted her — no, it was more than wanting. It was need. He needed her. Lord, he loved her so much
He pulled off his jacket, turning the sleeves inside out in his haste. He kissed Lib again, hungry for the taste of her mouth as he loosened his tie.
And then she was sitting up, helping him with his shirt, her fingers deftly unfastening the row of buttons and pushing the soft cotton off his shoulders.
The sensation of her hands on his bare skin was excruciatingly sensual. She kissed him, her mouth warm and moist against his neck.
She was up on her knees, and he pulled her tightly to him. She rubbed against him, along the length of his erection, and he knew without a doubt that this was it. He was going to make love to her. There'd be no stopping them now.
But, Lord! Maybe they'd have to stop... "Lib, I don't have a condom," he said. His voice was hoarse in the stillness.
Her fingers found the buckle to his belt and quickly unfastened it. "I do," she whispered. "In my purse." She gazed up at him with a smile.
It was the sweetest, sexiest smile he'd ever seen, and it damn near took his breath away as she held his gaze. But then her eyes flicked down and she unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the straining zipper. Luke pulled away.
He kicked off his shoes and his pants followed close behind. Then he rolled back onto Liberty's big bed, pulling her down with him. The sensation of her legs tangled together with his was nearly as delicious as what his hands found, exploring up underneath the thin cotton of her shirt.
Lib closed her eyes as Luke kissed her, gasping at the pleasure that flooded through her at his touch. Making love to him felt right, so very right. Sure, they'd been waiting, but for what? They'd been waiting for right now — for a perfect moment, for this perfect moment.
His hands pushed her shirt up, and she helped him pull it over her head.
"Oh, Lib," he said. There was a catch in his voice and Liberty opened her eyes and looked u
p at him.
He was gazing at her with such heat in his eyes, she felt certain she would go up in flames.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, touching her with his eyes and then lightly, almost reverently, with his hands. "You don't know how much sleep I've lost, lying awake at night, thinking about making love to you."
Lib had to laugh. "I think I probably do," she said. "You're not the only one who lost sleep, you know. All those hot summer nights... knowing you were just a short walk down the street... I'd lie up here, with the fan turned up high, thinking about you kissing me all over..."
The heat in Luke's eyes burned a shade hotter. "All over," he said. "Like... here?"
He lowered his head to her breast, touching her nipple lightly with his lips and his tongue.
"Oh, yes," Lib breathed.
He drew the tip of her breast further into his mouth, sucking, pulling, and sending arrows of pleasure shooting through her.
Lib heard herself cry out as she tried to pull him closer, even closer to her. His muscular thigh was between her legs and she gripped it tightly, pressing herself against him, wanting more, wanting it all right now.
But Luke was taking his own sweet time.
He kissed his way to her other breast, and then down, all the way down to her belly button. Lib's fingers dug deeply into his hair as he kissed and explored that sensitive area with his tongue.
"Luke, please—" she gasped, and he looked up at her, a fierce smile on his handsome face. His dark hair was a jumble of waves and his eyes sparked and burned.
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