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It didn’t take as long as he’d feared it might. He hoped it was a good sign—that Cate had feelings for him, that she might someday love him as he loved her. But that wasn’t the most important thing at this moment. His gift to her didn’t come with strings attached.

“It’s okay, Cate,” he whispered when he finally brought her to the brink. When little tremors shook her body and she bit her lip in a last-ditch effort to control the sensations he knew were sweeping through her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let go. Just let go. I’ll catch you. I won’t let you fall.”

Then she did let go, a tiny cry of completion escaping her throat as her whole body shuddered, as her legs clamped tightly around his hand. Liam crooned wordlessly, his lips pressed against her temple as her climax took her beyond anyplace she had ever thought to go. She didn’t have to tell him—he just knew. He didn’t remove his hand right away, just continued to hold her, stroke her, extending her pleasure for as long as he could.

Cate was crying. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, soundless tears that gladdened his heart and also broke it. Because it killed him to think of her believing the worst of herself. Killed him to think that all these years she’d never known her body could respond the way nature intended.

“I didn’t know...” she whispered, almost to herself. She drew a sobbing breath, then turned ever so slightly toward him. “I didn’t know,” she repeated, placing her hand against his heart. “Oh, Liam...”

A wave of relief swept through him. Relief that he’d done it—he’d somehow found the way to banish her fear long enough for her to experience the beauty, the wonder. He felt like a man who’d climbed Mount Everest and stood triumphant on the summit—because he’d been the man Cate had needed him to be. And at the same time he felt humbled. It hadn’t been a conscious effort on his part. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to do each step of the way. He’d gone with his instincts, and somehow his instincts had been right. He’d always denied it when his brothers had teased him, but in this case it seemed appropriate—he was a knight in shining armor after all. Cate’s knight. And it felt damned good.

It hadn’t been easy restraining his own desires...and it still wasn’t. His body ached and throbbed, needing the completion he’d just given her and had denied himself. But this wasn’t the time. His needs weren’t important, not at this point.

But he couldn’t continue to hold her like this without doing something. So he waited until Cate’s eyes fluttered closed and her breathing told him she’d drifted off to sleep before easing himself out of the bed.

He stripped in the bathroom and stepped naked into the shower, letting the hot water pummel him. He was so primed it took him less than a minute to take care of his most pressing need. He toweled off quickly afterward, pulled his boxer shorts and T-shirt back on, then padded silently into the other room.

She was awake again already...and watching him as he came around the folding screen. He climbed into bed next to her as if he had the right, hoping she wouldn’t deny it. Then gently drew her into his arms, settling her against his shoulder. Not holding her prisoner, just holding her safe. Secure. Knowing she needed to get used to having him hold her in bed—just like the other night—if she was ever going to accept anything more from him.

After a minute, during which he counted her shallow breaths one after the other, she said, “Why did you do that?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “Because you’re not ready.” His voice was a deep rumble in his chest and his arm tightened imperceptibly around her shoulders. “I can wait until you are.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time, but her breathing quickened...and not in a good way. Liam knew that as surely as he’d known she wasn’t ready in the first place. “But...” she said finally. “What if it’s...never?”

“Then it’s never,” he said simply. She raised her head from his shoulder and stared at him in the light from the bedside lamp Liam had left on, disbelief written plainly on her delicately beautiful face. One corner of his mouth curved up in a deliberately understanding smile that invited her to believe him. Implicitly. “It won’t affect how I feel about you, Cate.”

“How can you know that?” she asked quickly. Almost sharply. “You’re a man, and I know how men—”

“Yes, I’m a man. But I’m not an animal.” Like him, he thought but didn’t say. He didn’t want to bring memories of Vishenko into bed with them any more than they already were. “I can control my desires, Cate. I want you so much I’m shaking with it at times—you already know that. But only when you want me too—just as much as I want you—will I ever do anything about it.”

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