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As he answered the call, she listened to his monosyllabic words of acknowledgement. His gruff thanks and the click as he replaced the receiver.
‘Arrangements for your flight?’ she asked at last into the silence.
‘Yes,’ Liam answered.
And then, when she couldn’t bear the stillness any longer, ‘When?’
‘Tomorrow morning.’
A whoosh of breath escaped her.
‘So soon,’ she managed.
He didn’t reply. But, then, she supposed, what was there to say? And that truth twisted inside her even as she could feel the inferno building from the pit of her belly, hot and needy, and enough to burn her from the inside out. He was leaving and all she could think was that she wanted him one last time. And that a perverse part of her almost welcomed the pain of closure.
So why not put it all on the line?
* * *
He needed to move. At the very least, he needed to step back away from the bed, away from the temptation of Talia.
He did neither. He simply stayed where he was, and he had no idea how long he stared at her, watching a host of emotions chase through her lovely, expressive eyes. He was only aware of the furore raging inside him. Devouring him from the inside, then threatening to burst out of him at any moment, wild and unrestrained.
He still hadn’t fully processed the fact that he’d talked to her about his father. Telling her things he had never dreamed he would tell anyone. It ought to have alarmed him enough to send him out that hotel door instantly.
Had he forgotten how Talia h
ad left him three years ago? Or how long it had taken to piece himself back together?
Another person abandoning him. Discarding him.
Breaking all his rules could only be deleterious; it only proved that he really was as damaged as he’d ever feared. Worse—as much as his father had always told him.
But the worst of it was that even through everything he said to her, and the fact that he was trying to push her away, the only thing he really wanted to do was to pull her closer than ever.
He wasn’t aware of moving or approaching the bed, but suddenly there he was. He reached out and moved a stray curl off her damp cheek.
But, Lord, he wanted to do so much more.
Haltingly, she pulled her head back, her lips parted and her breathing shallow, betraying the fact that she felt the same way.
‘We agreed no more.’ His voice cracked.
‘You said no more.’ She eyed him steadfastly. ‘I didn’t. I asked you to stay. So it’s up to you, Liam. I’m not the one waging some kind of internal war.’
‘You just told me how you regret what happened with your mother. You lost sight of yourself because of me.’
‘I regret that I didn’t pay more attention,’ she concurred. ‘And that I was self-absorbed. But I didn’t lose sight of myself because of you. And, even if I had, I know who I am now. Just as I know what I want. Even so, if you want to finish this once and for all, I’ll go now.’
And even though he knew he should, he found he couldn’t. He didn’t have the mental strength to do it again, not knowing that in twenty-four hours he would be gone. That he would never see her again. Or touch her. Or taste her.
He’d pushed her away too many times. This time was different. And as he reached for her, admiring her grace as she knelt up on the bed before he hauled her back into his arms, Liam thought that she’d never looked so soft or at peace.
She was right, she was no longer that girl he’d known in North Carolina—and he was no longer that man.
But he still wasn’t enough for her. That hasn’t changed, Liam reminded himself.
But he wasn’t listening.
