CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TWO DAYS LATER Ryan was on his way to deal with a problem at the marina when he saw Emily walking hand in hand with Lizzy toward the section of the harbor reserved for the boat tours. The child was talking nonstop, and Emily was listening attentively, occasionally nodding and interjecting.
He compared it to the first day when she’d sat in the Ocean Club staring at Lizzy as if she were a bomb that might detonate at any moment.
Instead of using the path down to the marina, Ryan diverted and joined them on the waterfront. “Taking a trip?”
“Yes.” Lizzy was so excited she was almost dancing. “We’re going on the boat. I swam on my own yesterday for the first time, and now Emily is taking me to see the puffins before they fly away for the winter.”
It was impossible not to respond to that excitement. Also impossible not to wonder how much of a treat it would be for Emily.
“Sounds like fun.” He cast a look at Emily and saw shades of pale under the bright smile. It was her skin color that made up his mind. “Why don’t I take you myself?”
Emily shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I know you’re busy.”
Ryan thought about the meeting he had scheduled with the multimillionaire yacht owner who wanted to negotiate the fee for using the Ocean Club facilities. He’d been looking forward to the cut and thrust of a negotiation that would end in him taking a generous chunk of the guy’s money, but the anticipation was clouded by the thought of what might happen if Emily had a panic attack while Doug was in the middle of the bay. “Doug crams as many people on the boat as he can to make money. Sometimes the kids can’t even see properly. You’d be more comfortable with me.”
“There isn’t—”
“I want to go with Ryan! Please?” Lizzy was visibly excited at the proposed change of plan, and Ryan drew Emily aside. He breathed in the scent of blossoms and lemons and wondered why he was doing this to himself.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“A boat trip? Yes. I promised.”
And she would never break a promise, he knew that.
“Then let me take you.”
“No, but thank you for offering.”
“Are you refusing because of what happened in the pool?”
Her gaze skidded to his and away again. “I’m refusing because this is a child-centered day, and you have better things to do with your time.”
He certainly had other things to do with his time. Whether they were better or not, he wasn’t sure. “I can manage one boat trip, Emily. I’ll make sure you’re both safe, and you can wear life jackets the whole time. You’ll be happier, I promise.” He saw her gaze flicker to the tourist boat where Doug was taking money from people as they boarded. The boat was filling up, and he knew that it was going to be at full capacity. “With me, if you discover you hate it, or if she hates it, we can turn around any time and come back to the harbor. You can’t do that with Doug.”
“I thought you sailed a flashy racing boat.”
“I do, but I’ll borrow Alec’s sloop. It’s a traditional wooden boat. You’ll love it.”
Her expression told him she didn’t think there was anything to love about boats. “Lizzy isn’t too young for that type of boat?”
“I took Rachel sailing for the first time when she was four. Spent a whole summer teaching her knots. Bowlines, hitches, figure of eights. By the time she was eight she was sailing a Sunfish by herself.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s a dinghy. It has a habit of capsizing.” Remembering made him smile and then he saw she’d turned green. “Alec’s boat is stable.”
“It doesn’t need a crew to sail it?”
“I can sail it alone. And I’d be happy to take a couple of passengers.” He saw her glance from Lizzy to the now heaving boat in the harbor.
“Well—if you’re sure. Thank you.”
Ryan glanced at his watch. “Can you give me an hour? I’ll meet you at the marina.” He figured that would give him time to part the multimillionaire from enough of his cash to ensure the Ocean Club had a good summer.
*
AN HOUR LATER Emily stood nervously at the marina, listening to the clink and creak of masts and the shriek of seagulls.
Was she crazy?
Learning to swim had given her a confidence boost, but not for a moment did she kid herself that swimming in a calm pool under Ryan’s watchful gaze would be anything like swimming in the choppy waters of Penobscot Bay. If Lizzy fell overboard, she doubted her ability to save her.
The only thing stopping her from backing out was the knowledge that this was her problem, not Lizzy’s.
Emily had spoken to the grief counselor regularly and been advised that outdoor activities were to be encouraged. Since Lizzy had started her swimming lessons with Rachel, there had been no more bad dreams, and she was sleeping in her own bed.
“There’s Ryan! And he brought Cocoa.” She sprinted toward him before Emily could stop her.
“Lizzy!” Her heart rate doubled, but she saw Ryan lengthen his stride and scoop the child into the safety of his arms.
“No running by the water. You might fall.”
“Yes, Captain Ryan.” Lizzy was grinning and wriggling like a fish in a net. As soon as Ryan put her down, Cocoa was in her arms.
Emily watched as dog and child greeted each other with mutual adoration. “The dog has her own life jacket?”
“Everyone does. Let’s start with Lizzy.” Once Lizzy was wearing a life jacket, he turned to Emily. “You’re going to wear this the whole time, and if you don’t feel safe or you want me to turn back, tell me.” He secured the jacket with strong, sure hands, and she thought to herself that feeling safe had more to do with the way he made her feel than a flotation device.
“If Lizzy falls in—”
“She’s not going to fall in.” His hands were firm on her waist, his gaze holding hers. “Do you trust me?”
It was hard to focus on anything when he was standing this close to her. She dropped her gaze, but that move gave her an eyeful of his chest and biceps.
“Yes, but even you can’t control the sea.”
“But I can ensure Lizzy’s safety.” He tightened the life jacket “And yours.”
“You have to sail the boat, and if she falls in—”
“No one is going to fall in. Unless you’re planning on stripping down to that red swimsuit, in which case it will be a case of man overboard, and you’ll be rescuing me.” Beneath the mild humor, she heard male appreciation and felt her stomach drop.
He was the only man who had ever made her feel this way, and she had no idea how to handle her feelings.
He whistled to Cocoa who clearly recognized it as some sort of signal because she wagged her tail enthusiastically and sprang onto the boat.
Next he scooped up Lizzy and put her safely on the deck with instructions to sit down and not move until he told her what to do, and finally he held out his hand to Emily.
The rise and fall of the boat mirrored the feeling in her stomach. “I could have spent the afternoon painting or making jewelry.”
“Which would have been a thousand times more boring than going to see seals and puffins.” Letting go of her hand, Ryan picked up a short length of rope from a bag he’d put on the deck.
“We’re going to see puffins!” Lizzy was finding it hard to keep her bottom on the seat.
“Yes, but first you’re going to learn to tie a knot, because all good sailors learn knots.” He squatted down in front of the child with the rope in his hands. “Watch closely. First you make a rabbit hole—“ he formed a loop with the rope “—out comes the rabbit, around the tree, back down the hole.” He showed her again and then handed the length of rope to Lizzy, who copied it perfectly.
“Like that?”
“Great job.” He stood up. “Keep practicing.”
He maneuvered the boat skillfully out of the marina, guided it through the markers and out into the bay. He stood easily on the deck, loose-limbed and relaxed as he absorbed the rise and fall of the boat. As they left the sheltered harbor of the island, Emily felt the wind pick up and gripped the seat, but there was something undeniably magical about being out on the water with the sunlight dancing over the surface of the sea.
She decided that if he was relaxed, then maybe she could be, too. She forced the tension from her muscles and took a few breaths.
Ryan pointed the boat into the wind, and it rocked gently while he hauled up the sails, first one, then another. Then he returned to the wheel, adjusted the angle and worked the lines until the wind filled the sails, and the boat seemed to come alive in the water. And then they were moving, skimming the surface of the water at a speed that took her breath away. It felt like flying, and Emily felt a sharp stab of anxiety. Then he turned his head and shot her a smile, and anxiety gave way to exhilaration. The wind whipped at her hair, and the spray of the sea showered her skin, and in that brief moment she understood why so many considered sailing to be the ultimate adventure. There was a rhythm to it that she hadn’t expected, a beauty to the curve of the sails and the gleam of sunshine on the polished wooden deck.
Ryan stood at the wheel, legs apart and braced against the rise and fall of the boat as he judged tide and wind. He sailed along the rocky coast of Puffin Island, past the lighthouse that guarded the rocks by Shipwreck Cove, and across the inlet. They saw large houses tucked along the shoreline, children exploring the mysteries of the tide pools. From here she could see where the forest touched the sea and rocky outcrops that provided home to a variety of nesting seabirds.
It was a clear day, with not a hint of the fog that had a habit of shrouding the sea in the summer months.
As they sailed away from the island toward Puffin Rock he pointed out Castaway Cottage and Shell Bay.
He allowed Lizzy to steer the boat, an offer that resurrected Emily’s anxiety until she saw him put the little girl between himself and the wheel and cover her hands with his.
They dropped anchor in a little cove, and Ryan pointed out a seal pup and its mother lying on a sunny ledge.
“Take a look at the puffins.” He helped Lizzy adjust binoculars. “Puffins only come on land when they’re breeding.”
“They live on the sea?”
“Yes. They’re skilled divers, and, here’s the coolest thing of all—” he crouched down behind her, helping her focus in the right place “—when they’re flying, they beat their wings up to four hundred times a minute and reach speeds of around fifty miles an hour.”
“How do you know?”
“Because biologists study them.” Ryan took the binoculars from her, and Lizzy peered over the side of the boat.
“My mom said I should be an actor or a ballerina, but I think I might want to be a biologist or the captain of a boat and do this every day. Can women be captains?”
“Women can be anything they want to be.” Ryan handed the binoculars back to her, and Emily thought again that for a man who didn’t want the responsibility of children, he was remarkably good with them.
Ryan opened the cooler, and they ate a picnic of delicious sandwiches he’d ordered from the kitchen of the Ocean Club, and then sailed the boat farther out into the bay before giving both of them a brief lesson on tacking.
It made her happy to see how much Lizzy was enjoying herself. She was swift and nimble in the boat and a fast learner.
Emily found it more exciting than she would ever have imagined. It was impossible to picture anything bad happening while Ryan was in charge, so she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of spray on her face, the warmth of the sun and the smell of the sea. By the time they arrived back at the marina, she’d decided that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to move to Wyoming.
Ryan sprang off the boat, secured it and then reached for Lizzy. “How does pizza sound?”
“I’m going for a sleepover.”
“It’s the twins’ birthday,” Emily explained as he glanced at her in surprise, “and she really wanted to.” And she was trying hard not to show how nervous she was about it. One of the hardest things about parenthood, she was discovering, was not transferring her own hang-ups to Lizzy.
“You’re not meant to call them ‘the twins.’” Lizzy grabbed Cocoa. “They’re separate people.”
“You’re right. Thank you for reminding me. It’s just that ‘twins’ is so much quicker to say than ‘Summer and Harry.’”
“We’re going to eat pizza, birthday cake and then watch a movie in our pajamas.”
“Sounds like a perfect evening.” Ryan strolled across to Emily and took her hand as she stepped off the boat. “So, you’re on your own tonight.” The way he said it made her heart beat faster.
“Yes.”
“Have dinner with me.” He spoke quietly, checking that Lizzy was still occupied with Cocoa. “I’ll book a table at The Galleon. Fine dining. Candles. Lobster. Adult company.”
The invitation took her breath away.
The three years she’d spent with Neil hadn’t prepared her for the intensity of feelings, and she wasn’t naive enough to think that an evening with Ryan would end with dinner.
“You wouldn’t be able to get a table at this short notice in the summer.”
“Are you looking for an excuse to say no?”
“No, but people book months in advance, the moment they know they’re coming on holiday.”
He simply smiled. “So, is that a yes?”
“I’m covered in sea spray and I’m a mess.”
His gaze traveled slowly from her hair to her mouth. “Option one,” he murmured, “is for you to shower at my place.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Ryan—”
“Option two is that you go back to the cottage and change.”
“Or there’s option three,” she croaked, “which is that I stay home alone.”
His eyes were hooded. “I didn’t give you an option three.”
They’d reached a crossroads. A point where a decision had to be made.
Feeling as if she were plunging into the deep end of the swimming pool, she took a deep breath. “I’ll take option two.”
As she dropped Lizzy off with Lisa and the twins, she felt like a teenager on her first date, and the nerves increased as she drove back to the cottage to shower and change. By the time she walked up the steps to Ryan’s apartment, she felt slightly sick, and the feeling intensified as he opened the door.
This wasn’t an afternoon with Lizzy as the focus. It wasn’t a swimming lesson where the objective was improving her stroke and confidence in water. This was a date. Just the two of them. Man and woman.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Don’t tell me—you’ve spent the last two hours thinking of all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake.”
“Maybe.” He stood to one side to let her in. “But most mistakes don’t smell the way you do, so I’m willing to take that chance. I have champagne in the fridge. Hopefully that will numb your panic.”
Was it panic? She wasn’t sure. It felt more like excitement with a heavy dose of nerves. It was the first time she’d been in his home, and it took her breath away. Acres of glass offered spectacular views over the bay, and the setting sun sent slivers of gold across the darkening ocean. The place was designed to make you feel as if you were part of the scenery, not just an observer. You could almost smell the sea and feel the wind in your hair. It should have unsettled her, but didn’t. Maybe it was because she was slowly getting used to the sea, or maybe it was because from up here it felt as if they were suspended above it, safe from the dangerous lash of the waves.
As for the apartment, the decor was exactly as she would have predicted: sophisticated, minimalist and masculine, everything chosen for its clean lines and simplicity. The kitchen area was a gleaming run of polished steel, sleek and practical. The walls that weren’t glass were lined with bookcases, and in one corner a spiral staircase wound its way up to a sleeping shelf.
“What’s up there? Your bedroom?”
“No. An obscenely large TV and my state-of-the-art sound system.”
She laughed. “It’s amazing.” It was also the least child-friendly apartment she’d ever seen. “It has the feel of a loft. This will probably surprise you, but I could sit and look at this view all day.”
“Me, too. Sometimes I’m tempted to do just that. Then I remind myself that if I don’t get off my butt and earn money, I won’t be able to afford to look at the view.” He stood next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. “When I was in the hospital, I thought about this place all the time. Even as a kid I knew these buildings had potential. I used to lie there, planning what I’d do with it. It took my mind off the pain.”
“You’ve built a successful business.”
“Winters are still lean, but even they are picking up since we started to pull in the winter outdoor crowd. And a few artists have shown interest in renting these apartments for the winter months. North light. I’m lucky to be able to build a life here.” He strolled across to the fridge, removed a bottle and scooped two slender stemmed glasses from one of the cabinets.
“What are we celebrating?”
“The fact that you’ve learned to swim? Your first boat trip? Your first night without a six-year-old sleeping in the room next door? Adult time? The list of possibilities is endless.” Under his gentle persuasion the cork came free with a gentle pop, and he poured the champagne and handed her a glass. “Or maybe we should drink to courage.”
“Courage?”
“Swimming, sailing and sleepover. Knowing how hard all of those things must have been for you, I think it’s an appropriate toast.”
Remembering the vicious scars on his shoulder she decided he wasn’t low on courage himself. “I loved the sailing. And you were so patient with Lizzy.”
“She’s a great kid. Gutsy, funny—she reminds me a little of Rachel at the same age. Were you scared to let her go tonight?”
“Yes. But she wanted to do it so badly, and I trust Lisa.”
“Does she know the truth?”
“About Lizzy’s identity, yes. She had a bad experience with journalists herself, so she was sympathetic.” She wondered if she’d been tactless given his past profession, but he shook his head, reading her mind.
“I’m not about to defend the actions of the guy you told me about.”
“It’s been almost a month. Do you think they could still come?”
“It’s less likely with every day that passes.”
She stared down into her glass, watching the bubbles rise. “It’s weird. This is the first time I’ve been on my own for a month, and instead of feeling free, I miss her.”
“Kids have a habit of sneaking up on you. Before you know it, they’ve hooked you and you can’t get free.” He finished his champagne. “We should leave. They’re holding our table.”
The Galleon restaurant was situated a short walk from the harbor, with views over the ocean and the passing yachts. Despite the island location, or perhaps because of it, they’d managed to secure themselves a reputation as one of the top restaurants in Maine. They operated six months of the year, and during the winter months the owner and chef, Sallyanne Fisher, spent time traveling the world on the hunt for new recipes. As a result the menu was eclectic and interesting.
Sallyanne herself greeted Ryan with a kiss and showed them to a secluded table in the corner of the restaurant with a view over the water.
“Who did she have to disappoint to give you this table?” Emily slid into the chair with the view, noticing that they were partially hidden from their neighbors.
Ryan smiled. “I fixed her boat last summer. She’s been grateful ever since. And on an island this small it’s impossible not to know your neighbors and your competition.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it? The quality of the food here is attracting foodies from everywhere. It’s good for all of us.”
It certainly was good.
They ate sautéed jumbo shrimp with roasted garlic and baby spinach, followed by fresh Maine lobster washed down with a Californian white that was cool and so delicious, Emily drank more than she’d intended to.
They finished off by sharing a blueberry cheesecake. As she took the last mouthful, Emily moaned and closed her eyes. “This is so good. I’m going to tell Lisa to find a way to make this into an ice cream.”
“It’s generous of you to help her.”
“I’m doing it for selfish reasons. After everything that has happened lately, I need to feel competent at something.”
He picked up his glass. “You’re competent at a lot of things.”
“Not swimming or parenting.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your parenting skills. Just your confidence. But you’re pushing yourself out of your comfort zone on a daily basis. And you’re loving it.”
She put down her glass. “How do you know that?”
“It shows on your face.” He glanced at the dress. “It shows in everything.”
“It isn’t just about Lizzy. It’s about me. I never did these things. I never sat on a beach and tried to eat ice cream before it melted over my fingers, I never pushed my fingers into a heap of flour and made my own pizza base, I never made necklaces out of flowers. Lisa showed me how to make the perfect pirate map. You soak paper in tea, dry it out and then burn the edges.”
He smiled. “So ballerina is definitely off her list.”
“Seems that way.” She put her spoon down. “The thing about kids is that they make you pay attention to the small things. Things that as an adult you rush past on your way to something else.”
“That’s exactly what drove me crazy as a teenager. I wanted to rush past it on my way to something else.”
She nodded. “You were at an age when everything was changing radically. You were trying to work out who you were, and suddenly you were expected to be responsible for other people. That’s scary, but also rewarding. Lizzy’s reading is coming on so fast. Agnes has been reading to her, too. She gave us lots of Rachel’s old books.”
He sat back in his chair, studying her across the table. “Still worried you can’t love her?”
“She’s very easy to love.”
“And that scares you.”
“Yes, but lately I’m doing everything that scares me, so I guess this is just one more thing.”
“You’re an impressive person, Emily Donovan. You took on a child you’d never even met and agreed to live a life you didn’t think you wanted. Most people in your position would have put her in foster care.”
“I don’t think so.” She took a deep breath. “I think most people would have done what I did. Spending time with Lizzy makes me wish I’d tried harder to have a relationship with Lana. I blame myself for that.”
“How was that your fault?”
“I keep wondering whether if the accident hadn’t happened, or if I hadn’t reacted so badly to it, maybe things would have been different. Maybe we would have been closer.”
“Or maybe she was never going to be the sort of person who wanted that.”
Emily thought about her half sister and the uncomfortable similarities to her mother. “She was so beautiful, and yet she seemed to need to have that confirmed all the time. Maybe that was my mother’s fault because looks were the only thing she valued.”
Maybe it was because he was such a good listener, but suddenly she was telling him everything, about how she’d been teased in school about her body, how she’d tried to disguise her shape, how she’d mistrusted relationships.
The conversation wasn’t all one-sided. He talked a little about how he’d felt stifled by looking after his younger siblings and about how guilty he’d felt leaving his grandmother to cope when he’d taken up a place at college.
“She wanted that for you.”
“Didn’t stop me feeling guilty.”
“But by then the children were older. And the fact that you wanted to leave doesn’t change the fact that you loved them.”
“Like the fact that wearing black doesn’t disguise the fact you’re the sexiest woman alive.”
The shift in the atmosphere rocked her off balance, and she felt her pulse quicken. “How much of that wine have you drunk? Your brain is malfunctioning.”
“My brain has been malfunctioning since you wore those pajamas.”
She stared at him across the table. He was sensationally attractive, those eyes dark as flint in a face where every line and angle spoke of strength and masculinity. The air was alive with a tension she had only ever experienced around this man.
The sexual energy was palpable, and by the time they returned to his apartment, she was feeling light-headed from a heady mixture of wine and anticipation.
He found his keys, opened the door and flicked a switch that turned on a couple of lamps and sent a warm glow over the spacious room.
“It’s late,” she murmured. “I should probably go home.” Because she was nervous, she walked to the window, and he threw his keys down on a small table near the door and followed her.
“Is that what you want?” He stood behind her, and his hands closed over her arms.
She closed her eyes. “It would be sensible.”
“And do you always do what’s sensible?”
“Always. I like order and predictability. I’m only interested in things I can control.” She kept her eyes forward, staring into the darkness of the bay. Lights from boats sent a warm glow flickering across the water. “With you, I feel out of control. As if I’ve lost my balance.”
“Good.” He moved her hair aside gently, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck. “I’m pleased I unbalance you.”
“I’m worried the reality will be a letdown.”
“It won’t be.” He turned her to face him. His gaze was slumberous, and all she saw in his eyes was liquid desire that mirrored hers. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes. I don’t feel any of the right things when I’m in bed with a man. It’s as if something inside me isn’t switched on.”
His smile was slow and sure. “Maybe it’s a question of knowing where to find the switch. Why don’t you leave that part to me?”
“I think there might be something wrong with me.”
“Honey, there’s nothing wrong with you. I have surveillance footage that proves it.”
She thought about that night in the pool and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I thought you said it would be wiped.”
“After sixty days.” His fingers gently massaged her hair. “So for the next few weeks I have visual evidence that you’re not who you think you are. Or we could try a different way to prove the same thing.”
Her heart was pounding so fast she felt sure he must be able to feel it. “Are you always so sure about everything?”
“Not everything.” He lowered his head so that his mouth was a breath away from hers. “But this I’m sure about.” His hand slid to the nape of her neck, and he held her head while he kissed her slowly, taking his time as he explored her mouth, her jaw, the hollow of her neck until the urgency inside her was a primal, desperate beat.
She wrapped her arms around him, felt him haul her close so that she was anchored against hardness and strength. And still he kissed her, his mouth exploring hers with leisurely skill until all she could hear was the soft thrumming of her own pulse in her ears and his murmured words of encouragement. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have sunk to the floor in a pool of molten desire. She was dizzy with it. Disoriented. All she knew was that of all the things that had happened over the past month, this felt the most right. Her hands were in his hair, her mouth responding to the erotic rhythm of his kiss.
She slid her hands down his back and tugged at his shirt.
She pressed against him, feeling the rigid thickness through the thin fabric of her dress.
“Steady.” He whispered the words against her mouth. “We have all night.”
She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t going to last five minutes, let alone all night, but at that moment his hand slid from her hip to her rib cage, and she felt his fingers brush the underside of her breast. It was such a relief that she moaned, but then he drew his hand away and smoothed her back instead, leaving her body vibrating with frustration.
“Ryan—” She’d never felt this desperate for anything in her life before, but even her pleading didn’t persuade him to alter his pace.
He continued to kiss her, long and deep, until she was trembling and shivering, until thick syrupy pleasure spread through her body. She was wondering what would happen when he finally touched her, when he slid the zipper on her dress and she felt his fingers slowly trace the length of her spine. His hands moved to her shoulders, and the dress slithered onto the wooden floor in a whisper of silk, leaving her standing in her underwear.
He eased her away from him, and the look he gave her from under those thick, dark lashes sent a lick of fire burning across her skin.
She trembled with arousal. “I wish—”
“You wish?” His voice was husky and deep, and she lifted her hands to the front of his shirt and started undoing the buttons. Because she was shaking, she fumbled, but he didn’t help her, just stood and waited, holding himself still while she struggled to get him naked.
In the end she gave up and ripped at the last few, sending buttons bouncing across the floor.
She heard him laugh, and then he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her across the room, through slivers of dark and moonlight, to his bedroom. She saw briefly that it had the same incredible view, the same canvas of sea and stars, and then he was lowering her onto the bed, the muscles of his shoulders bunched as he supported her weight.
Clumsy, she fumbled with his belt, but her fingers were useless, and instead she gave up, frustrated, and covered him with the flat of her hand. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and finished what she’d started. She stroked her hands over his powerful shoulders, lingered on the rough texture of his scar and slid lower. She felt the roughness of his thigh brush against the softness of hers, and then he shifted, giving himself full access to her body.
She started to remove her underwear, but he stopped her, pressing her flat to the bed with a wicked smile.
“That’s my job.”
“But—”
“Be patient.” He kissed her throat, and then his mouth moved lower to the full swell of her breasts, now pushing hard against the supportive fabric of her bra. His fingers brushed against the thrusting tip, and liquid heat pooled deep in her pelvis. For a moment she wondered whether his patience and control signified a lack of desire, but then she saw the dangerous glitter in his eyes and knew he was balanced on the edge, just as she was.
And then he was kissing her again, and she felt him remove her bra, leaving her breasts full and exposed.
“With a body like yours it’s a sin to wear clothes— ever.”
Her hips shifted against the softness of his sheets, her body arched, and still he explored, tasted, teased until she was sobbing his name, her fingers digging hard into the powerful muscles of his shoulders.
“Ryan—”
“Not yet.” But his hand finally moved between her thighs, lingered there, stroked through the sheer fabric of her panties and then slid inside, parting delicate folds until she was gasping. When she didn’t think she could stand it any longer, he stripped off the last of her underwear, and his fingers explored her with slow, skillful strokes and then slid deep, touching her in a way that was new to her until sensation built with suffocating intensity. She felt the first flutters of her body, but instead of finishing what he’d started, he moved down her body, kissing her stomach and lower until he was settled between her thighs.
Desperation gave way to acute shyness. This was something she’d never done with Neil, and she tried to wriggle away, but Ryan held her firmly, urging her to relax, to just breathe, to trust him, and then she felt the silky stroke of his tongue and the warmth of his breath against exposed, slippery flesh. He held her there, trapped and helpless, while he explored and exposed all of her body’s secrets, until she could no longer keep still. Finally, when she was sobbing and desperate, she felt him pause and reach for something from the nightstand and then he shifted over her, hard and heavy.
“Look at me.” His soft command penetrated her clouded brain, and she opened her eyes, met the burning intensity of his and then moaned as she felt him enter her with a series of slow, deliberate thrusts. She felt her body yield to the invasion of his, felt her muscles ripple against the swollen thickness and moaned his name.
“Am I hurting you?”
She was drowning in pleasure. “No! I just— I need—”
“I know what you need.” His voice thickened, he lowered his mouth to hers and rocked into her, deeper, harder, until each stroke, each driving relentless thrust propelled her closer to ecstasy.
Inhibition fled. Her only fear was that he might stop, that he might once again delay the pleasure. But not this time. Instead, he shifted the angle so that the combination of masculine thrust and delicious friction finally opened the gate to that elusive peak.
Pleasure rushed at her like a wave, slamming into her, the intensity of her climax catching her by surprise. She heard him groan her name, and then he was kissing her, stealing every sob, every cry with his mouth as the ripples of her body tipped him into his own shuddering release.
Afterward she lay, eyes closed, shaken by the depth of her own feelings. He gathered her close, soothing her with gentle hands and soft words, and then she was dimly aware of him leaving the bed. In the distance she heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom, and then he returned to the bedroom, scooped her boneless, pliant body easily into his arms and carried her through to the steamy, scented heaven.
“I never take baths, just showers.” She slid into the water with a groan. “I might drown. I need a life jacket.”
“You’re not going to drown.”
She heard the smile in his voice and opened her eyes. Confronted by the hard planes of his body, her gaze lingered on the dip and swell of muscle, the strength of those shoulders, the board-flat abdomen and the hair-roughened length of his thighs.
Catching her looking at him, he raised one eyebrow questioningly, as unselfconscious as she was anxious and unsure.
“You cannot possibly be shy after what we just did.” His voice was deep pitched, roughened by desire, and she discovered that far from being sated, it was as if her body had woken from a deep sleep.
“Maybe. You could turn the lights off if you like.”
“Honey, your body is so perfect anything less than a spotlight is a waste.” He slid into the water next to her, and she silenced the voice that questioned why he’d installed a tub big enough for two.
Her hair hung damp and curling in the steam, the ends heavy and wet as they clung to her neck. He pushed it aside and brought his mouth down on hers.
“You’re beautiful.”
She straddled him, her skin sliding against his, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of his skin. She pressed her mouth to the rough texture of his jaw, felt the rhythm of his breathing change as her hands moved down his body.
By the time morning came they’d done everything except sleep.
They lay, wrapped up in each other, watching dawn break over an ocean as smooth and still as glass.
“I’ve never had a date like this one.” Her voice broke the sleepy silence, and she felt him stir and tighten his grip.
“It’s good to try new things.” His voice was husky, and he shifted her under him and looked down at her through lowered lids. “Still think there’s something wrong with you?”
“No.” She slid her arms around his neck. “You obviously have special powers.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, smiling against her lips. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even started. Any time you want another display of my special powers, let me know.”
She felt the weight of him on her, dominating and unbelievably arousing. “It’s dawn. I’m picking up Lizzy in three hours, and the thing about having children is that there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for sleeping in the day.”
“True. Sleepless nights suck. Unless the reason for it is sex.” He rolled on to his back, but he kept hold of her, locking her body against his. “I want to know more about you. Tell me something. Anything. Did you like school?”
“Mostly, yes. I liked the learning and the routine. There was a consistency that wasn’t ever present at home. Once I walked through those gates, I knew what was going to happen. The people behaved in a predictable way. I was never going to walk in and find them drunk or naked with a guy I’d never met before.”
“I’ve heard a lot of reasons for enjoying school but never that one.”
“Was there a teacher that stood out for you? For me it was Mrs. White. We used to wonder if she’d had her hair dyed to match her name, but she was the best math teacher. I was good at numbers. There was a beauty to it, a logic, that wasn’t present in anything else in my life. I had a gift, I think, and she saw it. She took me under her wing. I don’t know if she guessed what was happening at home, or whether she was just one of those people who are really good at bringing out the best in every child. Either way, she helped me. I was always the last kid in the building.”
“You didn’t want to go home.”
“To begin with that was the reason, but after a few years it was because I didn’t want to leave. School was a place full of possibilities. Mrs. White made me believe education was the key to another world. I wanted that key so badly. For the first time ever, the future looked exciting. I made it into college because of her. Every night when I left she gave me a new book to read, and every morning I gave it back and exchanged it for a different one.”
“You read a book a night?”
“I read from the moment I arrived home until I fell asleep. If the book was good, I didn’t sleep much. Sometimes I’d talk about the books with my stepfather, but mostly I just lived in my own world, and he respected that.”
“And your mom?”
“She didn’t care what I was doing.” She ran her hand over his shoulder, feeling the uneven texture of his skin under her fingers. “Does it hurt? And don’t lie to me.”
“It’s worse when the weather is cold and occasionally when I use it without thinking. But I don’t mind.” He hesitated. “At the beginning when I was going through the endless surgery and rehabilitation and taking the pain and frustration out on my family, I kept thinking of Finn. Every time I was tempted to feel sorry for myself, I thought about him. And the pain reminds me to live in the moment.”
“I wish I was more like that. I spend half my life—no, more than half my life—” she corrected herself “—worrying about stuff that hasn’t happened yet.”
“You’re not alone. Most of us go through life thinking about tomorrow, and we miss today. That was one of the things that made Finn such a great companion on our trips into dangerous territory. He noticed the small things that other people missed. It was also what made him a great photographer.”
“You don’t talk about him much. You don’t talk about any of it much.”
His fingers moved slowly up and down her arm. “The past is useful if it teaches you something about how you should be living in the present. Other than that, it’s just the past.”
Emily thought about her sister. “I think I’ve been living my whole life governed by the past. I didn’t think about it and didn’t talk about it, but it was there in everything I did. Skylar said that to me once and she was right. If it hadn’t been for Lizzy, I probably would have stayed that way forever.”
“And now?”
“Children have a way of making you live in the present. She doesn’t see further than the next meal or the next activity.” But she knew it wasn’t just Lizzy who was responsible for the change in her. It was Ryan.
He turned his head to hers, the gleam in his eyes telling her he knew what she was thinking. “If you need a suggestion for what the next activity could be, just ask.”