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Colleen swallowed.
Ellen Forbes had gotten pregnant, and Lucas married her. That was completely in keeping with his sense of honor and responsibility...and the fact that he was a family man.
And she knew without him speaking the words what the loss of that baby must’ve meant to him. Lucas, who would have made the best father. He never would have left Ellen, not after that kind of shared sorrow.
“Did you love her?” she asked.
“Yes. Of course.”
He never had said that to her—“I love you.” The thought came unbidden, and it filled her throat with tears. Lucas looked at her, his dark eyes liquid. He reached out and wiped her cheek because it seemed a tear had slipped out.
“Then why did you get a divorce?” she whispered.
He looked at the floor, then up at her. “Because I didn’t love her enough,” he said.
She kissed him then, of course she did, because those words, they broke her heart, sliced it in a sweet, hot cut. The kiss was soft and tender and almost shy, as if she was kissing him for the first time again. His heart had been broken, too, she realized, if not by her, then by that sad, helpless loss. And Lucas had lost so much in life.
Her hands slid through his hair, that gorgeous, thick, waving hair, and her mouth opened. He dragged her across his lap to hold her, one hand cupping her face. His arms were safe and strong, pulling her against his solid chest, and the kissing changed now, harder and less sweet and more wonderful, because it had always been like this between them, that raw heat that practically lifted her off the ground with its force. All she wanted was this, and she wondered how she’d lasted so long without him, without the hot, red force that made her heart shudder. The scrape of his cheek, the heat of his hands, the way they fit together, made her shake.
Slow down, slow down, slow down,her brain chanted.
She pulled back, her breath shaking out of her. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath coming hard, and he looked at her the way no other man had ever looked at her.
Mine.
“Not bad, Spaniard,” she said, and he laughed, that low, smoky sound. She always could make him smile.
“Oh,mía,what am I going to do with you?” he whispered, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Again with themía. I’m not yours. I’m a rental.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
The words caused a sunburst in her chest. “I’m definitely writing your name in my notebook.”
He smiled, but his eyes held a note of worry. “I’ll be going back to Chicago soon,” he said.
That dampened the moment a bit. “Right. I know.”
“But I can’t seem to stay away from you, either.”
“No.”
There was a pause; her heart counted out the beats.
“Should I leave you alone, Colleen?” he asked.
He was giving her a chance to back out, or at least, to stall. And yes, she felt as naked and vulnerable as a newborn kitten. She should ask him about the future. She should go slowly, make sure this time, not jump—
But last time, she’d had the whole future mapped out. The house, the kids, the plan. Maybe this time, she could just...be.
His black eyes were half-closed, and he looked more like a Spanish pirate than ever, about to claim his woman.
“No. Don’t leave me alone,” she said, and his mouth was on hers again, his hands sliding under her dress to her hips, pulling her closer, his tongue sliding against hers, and this was it. He was the one, and she knew it, no matter how scary it was, how big and deep and easy to get lost in, she was simply, undeniably his.
The door banged open, and there was Connor. “Coll, where have you— Oh, for the love of God.”
Colleen hurtled off Lucas’s lap and straightened her skirt.
