by Diana Duncan
Warmth curled through her as she poured coffee. Alternating sips, she lifted a gold filigreed paper bag from beside the coffeepot. “What’s this?” She pulled out a large brown and gold box and opened it. She choked on her coffee. “You ordered condoms from room service?”
“They’ll bring you all kinds of fun stuff that’s not on the menu.”
Gold script on the side of the box caught her eye. “Chocolate-flavored condoms?” Her jaw dropped. “Twenty-five assorted chocolate flavors from raspberry to hazelnut.”
“They might last the day.”
She laughed as the warmth turned to heat and flooded her from head-to-toe. “I’ll never again doubt you want me.”
“You’ll never have reason to.” Smiling, he patted the bed. “Come here. I’m starving.”
Leaning against the padded brown velvet headboard, they sat with the sundae dish propped between them. Inexplicably, the sundae for six had come with one spoon, so Liam alternated between feeding her and himself.
They’d nearly finished when his hand jerked, dropping sundae into the vee of her robe. She jumped as ice cream splashed the hollow of her throat. “Eek! Cold!”
“My bad.” His slow grin was evil and his irises twinkled. “I’ll clean it up.”
Looking at her intently, he slowly, deliberately untied her belt, slid it free and tossed it over the side of the bed. Desire shimmered inside her as just as deliberately, he parted her robe and slid it down off one shoulder, then the other. It followed the belt to the floor. His fingers roamed down her thigh, circled her knee, her calf, and then he snagged her ankle and tugged her prone. Fascinated, she propped herself on her elbows and watched him.
Still holding her gaze, he unfastened his towel and tossed it away. Naked, he prowled up her body like a big sleek jungle cat scenting prey. His glance dropped to the ice cream and chocolate at her throat, then wandered in a leisurely, arousing path down her body ... and back. A sensual smile slid across his incredible mouth. “Mmm,” he growled. “You look delicious.”
Need flared, hot and bright. She was still warm and ready from his gifted tongue. “Now,” she demanded, reaching for him.
He caught her hands. “I haven’t finished dessert.” He bent and licked the ice cream from her neck, making her laugh and wriggle. She expected fast and wild, but instead, he took his time, did a thorough job. She closed her eyes, tipped her head back. The sensual contrast of cool, creamy ice cream and warm, silky tongue soon had her writhing in pleasure.
Cold dribbled over her nipple. Her lids flew open. Holding the spoon, Liam grinned at her. “Oops.”
Her giggle trailed off into breathless hums as he proceeded to anoint and taste her, inch by inch. Who knew that the inside of her elbow, her wrists, the hollow behind her knees, her ankles, and each individual toe were spine-tingling erogenous zones?
The mouthwatering fragrance of chocolate floated in the warm summer air, hazed with sunshine and happiness. Arousal built from a slow simmer to an overpowering cascade of molten need. Liam showed her what her body was capable of when held in the right hands ... and the right heart.
He moved over her and wooed her mouth in a long, drugging kiss. She gloried in the rich taste of chocolate and the dark, heady essence that was his alone.
He tasted like paradise.
“Look at me, Kate,” he whispered against her lips.
Her lids drifted up, and their eyes locked. His knee grazed between her thighs, opened her.
Yes. Oh, yes.
Satiny heated steel pressed against her core. Nudged barely inside her—just enough to feel fantastic, make her yearn for more. Pulled out. Nudged again. Withdrew. And nudged again. Teasing. Tantalizing.
Her inner muscles contracted and her spine arched, wanting to capture—and keep—the glorious sensation. “Liam,” she moaned.
His hips pressed hers down and once more, he enticed her with shallow, provocative penetration. Once more he pulled back, wringing another moan from her throat.
“Remember when I was trapped in the pool?” His low question was husked with passion.
“I’ll never forget,” she whispered.
“When you breathed into my mouth, it felt like my very first breath.” He entered her in one long, smooth glide. Filled her. Healed her. “Like I was reborn.”
Bodies and souls joined in complete harmony, he went still, holding her close. Their breaths mingled. Their heartbeats danced the same wild rhythm. Blazing intimacy permanently reforged the fateful bond that’d formed two years ago and then been torn apart.
The best of both of them merged into one perfect creation.
She caressed his familiar, beloved face. He was her missing half. The one man with whom she could be real. She never had to hesitate before sharing her feelings with him, good or bad. She no longer had to protect her emotions.
He was her haven. She stared into his loving green eyes and entrusted her heart to him, forever. “You don’t just restore houses ... you restored me. Made me whole again. I trust you, Liam. With everything I have. Everything I am. Mind, body, and soul.”
“My sweet Kate.” One big hand cradling her face, the other her damaged hand, he began to move, and she moved with him, as easy and natural as breathing. Each long, exquisite stroke ignited glittering sparks throughout her system. “I saved your life, so that means you belong to me now.”
“And I saved yours,” she whispered. “So you belong to me as well.”
“Always.” Liam saw golden lights flare in Kate’s soft brown irises, watching him like he was her greatest treasure. He was drowning in her taste, her fragrance, in the liquid heat of her body. In the unconditional love she freely offered him.
He’d waited a lifetime for her.
With every moment, every kiss, every beat of his heart, he showed her how precious she was to him. His eager mouth sought hers again and again. She rocked her hips in a rhythm that pounded in his blood, a siren’s call that seduced his senses. He discovered the inner melody that belonged only to them, and spun out the dance, each sensation growing more and more intense.
Her defenses were gone, her heart and mind fully open to him. He released his long-leashed desires, and possessed her. Claimed her. And received back far more than he took. Flickering flames exploded into an inferno as their erotic waltz whirled into a scorching tango. As long as he lived, he’d never get enough of her.
She whimpered, close to the edge. He clenched his teeth. Trembling, she arched beneath him, accepting him as deeply inside her as he could go. His pulsed hammered in his ears. He wanted it to last forever, but her slick, silken warmth gripping him so tightly ignited an all-consuming blaze.
Every muscle in his body constricted and shook. Finally, he surrendered, and let the conflagration roar over him. He succumbed to the thundering crescendo. Rejoicing in the moment when tremors rippled through her and into him as she clung to his shuddering body and joined him in paradise, when she cried out his name.
Shaking, he buried his face in her neck and wrapped his arms around her. Kate was The One Pop had promised. Finally his.
He would cherish her as long as he lived.
* * *
Liam unlocked the door to the suite. Kate had been asleep when he’d left. They’d laughed and talked, napped, and made love all afternoon and into the evening. The artist in her nourished the creative part of him he’d never shared with anyone else.
He grinned. His sensual artist had proven to be far more imaginative than he could’ve possibly dreamed.
He tucked the key card into his jeans pocket. He’d engaged in his fair share of sex. But he’d never made love. Never felt the way he did with her. Each time they bonded on that deeply intimate level awestruck him as much as the first. No other woman would ever trip his pulse. No other woman would ever weaken his knees. No other woman would ever hurtle adrenaline though his system with the same thrilling rush he got when he disarmed a bomb.
Just Kate ... his very own personal incendiary de
vice.
His grin softened into a tender smile. Their connection wasn’t merely physical. They shared a perfect union of body and spirit that filled every empty corner of his heart. She knew who he was, knew what he was all about ... and loved him unconditionally.
She completed him on every level.
Phil Collins’s mellow voice beckoned him down the short hallway. Ah, she was awake. Good thing he’d left a note saying he was going to visit Murphy and then run an errand afterward.
He sauntered into the living room. Lurched to a halt. Kate was wearing one of his shirts ... and nothing else. The sleeves of the sapphire-blue dress shirt were rolled up, her long shapely legs and slender feet bare. Shiny brown hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head, with wispy tendrils caressing her cheeks. Her phone blared music from beside a half-eaten dish of unwrapped, fragrant gourmet chocolates on the coffee table.
Annnd just like that, he was hard. Damn, he was ruined for life. He’d never again get near chocolate without becoming aroused.
Kate hummed in a clear contralto as her left hand confidently stroked colorful swaths on a vivid canvas. The painting was a wild, exciting display of color and movement.
His heart stopped, then bucked into a joyous gallop.
She was painting!
“Who let Picasso into our room?”
She squeaked and whirled. “You’re back. How’s Murphy?”
“Better. The doc says he’ll make a full recovery.” He inclined his head. “Where’d you get the art supplies?”
She chuckled. “You’re not the only one who can wheedle fun stuff from room service.” She sobered, bit her lip. “I call it, Love with an Improper Stranger. What do you think?”
“Magnificent!” He grinned. “And the painting is fantastic, too.” He moved beside her and studied the mind-blowing canvas. “You said you couldn’t paint with your left hand.”
She put down her brush and turned to him. Yellow paint decorated her nose, and green streaked her temple. “You showed me it was safe to let my feelings out. You brought warmth and color back into my world.” She rested her palms on his chest. “I’m no longer afraid to try something new. Something risky and freeing and completely different from my black-and-whites.”
A lump jammed his throat. He hadn’t thought he could get any happier. He wrapped his arms around her. “Je t’adore, mon coeur.”
She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling. “Your love gave me the courage to soar to new heights.”
He could barely speak. “You humble me.” He kissed her, long and deep. “Put that masterpiece on display, pronto.”
“I’m offering it at the auction as an example of Renée Allete’s brand new style, and I’ll accept consignments for future works. One way or another, I’ll beg or borrow the rest of the money for Aubrey’s transplant.”
“Zoe will be thrilled to drum up publicity for you.” He handed her a cashier’s check. “And this will help.”
She goggled. “Where did you get this kind of money?”
He shrugged. “Investments.”
“Liam Michael O’Rourke.” She frowned. “What have you done?”
“Aubrey needed money, I got money. No biggie.”
“No way you could reach a broker on such short notice. And on a cop’s salary, you—” She blanched. “You sold the Mustang.”
Hellfire. His lady was too smart not to catch on. He reluctantly confessed. “A high roller on the Strip gave me top dollar.”
“Oh, no! No!” She tried to return the check to him. “That car means the world to you.”
“I don’t need it anymore.” He set the check beside the chocolates. “Pop always had a spooky way of ‘knowing’ things. Maybe the car was his gift to us ... for this exact purpose.”
Tears dewed her lashes. Her emotions now surfaced easily, and he loved that she finally felt secure enough with him to express her true feelings. “Oh, Liam.”
“It’s okay, honey. Pop’s not in the car.” He tapped his head. “He’s in here.” Tapped his chest. “And here.” He held her gaze. “As long as you’re beside me, I’ll be happy. I’m done hiding from the past ... and firmly focused on the future.”
Before she could protest again, he swooped her off her feet. He kissed away her tears and wiggled his brows at her. “Those chocolates are making me ravenous!”
“Again?” She giggled. “We’d better call room service.”
Epilogue
Ten days later - 8:00 p.m.
Kate waited for Liam in front of the Bellagio fountains. They’d planned to meet for dinner after he’d visited Murphy at the vet clinic and she’d visited Aubrey in the hospital. The fountains played a breathtaking ballet of water, music, and pure white lights, and she hummed along.
So much had happened in ten days. Using Zoe’s information, Interpol unearthed Daniel’s real history. At his grandfather’s urging, he’d firebombed his parents’ car at age twelve. But instead of being sent to live with Marché, he was placed in a foster home. So he’d killed his foster parents in a house fire. After that, Marché got custody and raised such a committed, cold-blooded terrorist, Daniel had eventually killed him, too. Daniel had been using her father’s company as a resource lab and excuse to travel while furthering his development of a new explosive—hoping to make millions off his terrorist pals. Police profilers theorized that Daniel had been able to hide his sociopathic nature until Kate’s refusal to lean on him after her injury. Her insistence on an independent recovery combined with discovering Aubrey wasn’t his child had triggered his psychotic break.
After learning what Daniel had done, Janine dissolved into a record-breaking self-pitying hissy fit. Kate realized they weren’t doing Janine any favors by enabling her, and gently but firmly confronted Janine with the fact that her selfishness had nearly cost her everything—including her child. She pointed out that Janine was now Aubrey’s only parent and her fragile daughter needed her more than ever.
Nobody was more surprised than Kate when Janine snapped out of her funk. Janine booked a series of appointments with a counselor, and the sisters had made tentative steps toward reconciliation. Rebuilding their relationship would take years of hard work, but hey, progress. The healthier their interaction, the better it’d be for Aubrey.
Kate smiled. Fate again blessed them when a generous donor’s organs became available three days after she and Liam beat Daniel at his sicko game. Aubrey’s surgery went perfectly, and her niece would live a long, healthy life. When she was stronger, counseling would help her deal with the death of the man she’d believed was her father. Janine intended to tell her the truth about her parentage when she was old enough to understand. Perhaps someday, she’d want to find her biological father.
One step at a time.
Etienne was thrilled to be taking over Kate’s Paris studio, after he oversaw the rebuilding. He’d more than proven himself capable of handling the responsibility.
She was painting every day—her creativity on fire. She’d even made enough money with her new work to buy back Liam’s Mustang. The guy who’d bought it was reluctant to sell, but armed with blackmail—er—intel from the petite but damn-scary-when-she-was-on-a-mission Zoe, Kate had convinced him. Ha.
Awareness prickled over Kate’s skin. She pivoted to see Liam striding down the sidewalk toward her with his easy, confident lope. As he smiled, her pulse kicked into double time. Her heart would always leap at the sight of her Irish charmer. Her treasured friend. Her lover. Her soul-mate.
He reached her and tugged her close for a kiss. “I missed you.”
“We’ve only been apart three hours.”
“Feels like longer.” He grinned. “Hungry?”
“Starving.” She chuckled. “Can we have dessert first?”
“As long as it’s chocolate.” Emerald Isle irises sparkled with joy. “I have a surprise for you.” He whistled, and Murphy trotted around the corner. The dog’s eyes were bright, his head high, tail up and wagging.
; “You bailed him out of the hospital!”
Liam nodded, turning serious. “Because we have our most important mission to complete.”
The dog ambled up to her, carefully carrying something between his teeth. A small black velvet box.
Liam knelt at her feet. Her breath hitched as tenderness welled in her chest.
Still bearing the box, Murphy went down on all fours beside Liam. Liam gathered her hands in his ... and anticipation swooped on fluttering wings.
“Kate.” Two earnest gazes implored her, one brilliant green, one deep brown. “As bomb techs, Murph and I have always relied on Lady Luck. But now we want a sure thing.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “Your hands saved Murphy’s life. Saved my life. I want only your hands to make love to me. I want only your hands to ease my sorrows and comfort me through the years.”
She was shaking from head to toe. His thumbs caressed her palms. “I want your hands to hold and rock our children ... and our grandchildren.”
Poignant tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. She swallowed hard.
Liam inhaled unsteadily. “And when I depart this world, an old, old man, I want your hands to be the last to touch me.” His lips trembled. “Kate, will you marry me?”
Rapture.
Jubilation.
Exaltation.
No adequate words to describe the effervescence soaring through every cell of her being. Crying, she flung her arms around him. “Oh, yes!”
Grinning broadly, he gestured, and Murphy brought the box to her and daintily set it on her open palm. Liam rose to his feet in front of her. He opened the box, then slid a glittering marquise cut diamond onto her ring finger.
At that moment, the fountain lights burst into spectacular rainbow colors. They jetted toward the heavens and began to swoop and sway in time to Phil Collins’s “Dance into the Light.”
She stared at the waltzing water, then at Liam. “How—?”
He laughed, and Murphy barked and cavorted in happy circles around them. Liam opened his arms. “Dance with me, Just Kate.”
Spirit soaring with the music, Kate nestled into him, moving in perfect rhythm. She looked up at the man who held her future so tenderly in his embrace, and smiled. “For the rest of our lives.”
