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“Really? How can you promise that? Nobody can.”
He takes my arm and turns me toward him. “You don’t understand. I don’t just love you. I ache when I can’t see or touch you. I have ever since you kissed me in the bedroom at Christmas. Even the slightest touch soothes me because I somehow sense you love me, too.” He rests his fingers beneath my chin and kisses me softly. “I feel connected and complete.”
I sniff back the stupid tears that are unwarranted around Liam, the man who speaks from his heart to mine. Holding his face with one hand, I return his kiss.
Liam rubs away the tear that touches his cheek. “The idea of anything or anyone hurting you—especially when I see Craig upsetting you—triggers something like anger, but worse. The need to protect you flashes through me and I can’t think straight. I want to wrap you both up and keep you safe.”
Liam, the laid-back guy with a big heart, hides another man beneath. I know this Liam; he’s the dominant and possessive man who I often experience in our bed. But the fact I arouse this uncontrolled side of him concerns me. I’m not afraid Liam will hurt me, but I am worried about his reaction if anybody else does.
“I love you and I want to take care of you,” he says. “I want to always be there for you and Ella, and whatever happens, I will be.”
“Thank you.” Slipping my hands around his neck and digging my fingers into the back of his hair, I look into the eyes of a man struggling with how he feels. The connection we have through a look or a touch is strange, the unspoken communication finally allowing me to understand how two people are meant to be.
“So you’re telling me Liam Oliver is a lion and not a cute kitten?” I ask.
Liam grabs my backside and pulls me into his hips. “You don’t need to ask me that. You know damn well I am.”
I brace myself for one of his hard kisses, but he tunes into my need for comfort and tempers the heart-thumping desire from our bodies touching. Gently holding my face, Liam reminds me how our intimacy goes beyond the physical, and how the slightest contact pushes him further into my soul. We’re not just a part of each other’s lives now, but a part of each other.
The trip back to the house from the beach is longer than usual, as we walk away from the dream.
