Besides, it’d be living out a childhood fantasy to spend the night in the Myerson cottage.
“Okay. I’ll stay,” she said.
His head swung around.
“You will? Just like that?” he asked.
Natalie nodded, thinking of how they’d both just acknowledged how complicated things were between them. And yet, what was life without the occasional risk?
“Yeah,” she replied, a smile shaping her lips as she registered Liam’s pleased expression. “Just like that.”
Chapter Ten
He couldn’t sleep for hours, thinking about the investigation and what he’d learned that day about his father.
But mostly, he couldn’t find rest because he kept replaying in his mind what had happened in his bed with Natalie earlier—what she’d told him about being made into an outcast by her peers after the accident, the fury he’d experienced at the full comprehension of her suffering…
What it felt like to hold her in his arms while she shook in pleasure.
That was definitely the memory that made him lose the most sleep.
He wanted her in a way he’d never wanted another woman. The knowledge that she slept just feet away from him both tortured him and calmed him at once. The paradox only made sense in light of his self-doubt. What he’d said to her earlier was true. He really did get an odd sort of satisfaction about Natalie being there in the house with him. His desire to make love to her was equally as strong, as natural and essential as the need to draw breath.
The truth she’d revealed hurt, though. It made him realize how selfish he was being for saying their pasts didn’t matter. His father had already caused Natalie a lifetime of pain. How fair was it for him to risk hurting her more, all because he couldn’t stop wanting her?
Might as well face it—Natalie Reyes was a beautiful, desirable woman. She was also unlike any other woman he’d ever been with. She was different…on so many levels. Liam had a feeling how he handled this situation was a test of his character, and he was suddenly afraid he was going to fail.
His doubt and fear had him tossing and turning until three in the morning. He lectured himself on the necessity for restraint, schooled himself to strike the right note with Natalie between caution and warmth. By the time he fell asleep to the sound of a summer storm, he was sure he’d taken command of his unruly desires.
He was sure, that is, until he woke up to a room filled with pale gold sunlight, his mind sharp and focused on the target of Natalie resting down the hallway, his body rigid and aching with desire.
He stood and threw on a pair of jeans. He’d just look at her while she slept. That’s all he planned to do, he promised himself.
He pushed open the guest room door and saw the empty, made beds. He charged down the hallway.
Where had she gone? Had she changed her mind about staying with him and walked home?
Some instinct made him swerve off target and enter the empty upstairs room—George Myerson’s old saloon. For a moment he stood motionless at one of the windows, watching as Natalie paused in the shallows of the lake, gathering her long, unbound hair and restraining it at her neck. Her movements held him spellbound. He recalled how he’d been so entranced by her hands when he’d first seen her dancing on the beach.
She began to walk deeper into the water. Her rib cage and waist were so narrow, so graceful…such a striking contrast to her feminine hips. He recalled in graphic detail what those curves felt like filling his palms.
Idiots. All those guys her age must have been witless fools not to see how beautiful she was…how glorious.
He turned and left the room, determination and desire hastening his steps.
The dawn-chilled water provided the brisk slap of distraction Natalie required. She’d slept solidly for five or six hours, strangely content in the embrace of the quiet old house. She’d awoken early, though, and fallen prey to her worries.
Not to mention her memories.
Those things Liam had whispered roughly in her ear last night while he’d played her flesh like a maestro—illicit things, exciting things…but sweet things, as well.
So sweet.
Every recalled word was like a heated touch as she lay there, alone and sweating in bed.
She’d crept downstairs to find her swimsuit. The frigid lake water would help her to quench the burning in her body.
It took her a moment to realize that a current had caught her as she swam. She straightened in the water and tried to break free of the push of the flowing undertow while treading water. A cry of frustration left her throat when she realized the current was stronger than she was. She’d been caught in a current a few times and knew she wasn’t supposed to fight it. The force of the water usually diminished after a short span.