When Night Falls (16 page)

Loving Liam.

If she really wanted to help him, she needed to quit longing for the feel of his arms around her, the warmth of his body pressed to hers. She needed to realize she wasn’t the magic potion he needed, a match to his darkness.

She needed to quit all that silly female stuff and do what she’d promised him she would. Find his daughter. Instinct warned that the past had finally caught up with them all. Tomorrow she would ask Carson Manning for a list of Heather’s friends, find her father’s old files.

Jess stood abruptly and strode to her kitchen, where she made a cup of hot cocoa. They were overlooking something, she couldn’t help but think, a key piece to the riddle. It was a damn good thing she’d never encountered a puzzle she couldn’t solve, not even the new ones where she didn’t know what picture she was trying to create until she created it.

A noise jarred her out of deep concentration. She jumped, realized someone was knocking on her door. Pounding.

“It’s me, Jessica. Open the damn door.”

Chapter 12

«
^
»

H
e stood on her doorstep, a man in a pair of jeans and a worn leather jacket, all tall and strong and alone. The sight of him hit Jess like a shot of whiskey straight up. Her body surged to life. Thoughts jumbled.

After the way they’d parted that afternoon, he was the last person she’d expected to see. With her heart raw and exposed, he was the last person she
should
see. But with need tearing through her, he was the only person she
wanted
to see.

She couldn’t shut him out.

Standing in a pool of porch light, he looked tired, lost. The pain in his eyes knocked the breath from her lungs. It blazed and burned and beseeched, and Jess knew a fire could not rage so fiercely unless it came straight from the heart. The soul. He reminded her of a magnificent sequoia tree, but with the bark stripped away one painful ribbon at a time. Still standing, but depleted. Tortured.

If the wind blew hard enough, he might just topple.

Caution crashed up against longing. Instinct told her to open her arms and let him in, give him the embrace he so clearly needed. Prudence kept her standing on the inside of her condo, where it was warm, staring at him on the other side of the partially open door, where it was cold.

“Liam?”

A moment passed before he answered. A moment when he simply stared at her as though searching for the answer to some riddle on her face. Then he released a ragged breath.

“Am I still welcome?”

She heard the raw need in his voice, felt a like need tear through her. Everything inside her that was female reached for him, for this man who didn’t know how to accept comfort. Her heart strained against better judgment.

Judgment lost. “Always,” she said, opening the door wider and stepping into the cold night. “Always.”

He reached for her. She reached for him.

They met somewhere in the middle.

His arms crushed her against his body. Strength was the first sensation, heat the next. The rich smell of sandalwood mixing with the leather of his jacket washed through her in a dizzying wave. She was acutely conscious of the feel of her face against the softness of his bomber jacket, her legs against his. She wanted to hold him like that but needed to see him even more.

Tilting her head to look, she barely had time to brace herself. The kiss was hot, all-consuming. His mouth took hers in a heady swirl of need and desire. A river could only be contained for so long, she realized in some hazy corner of her mind. Man-made constraints could only withstand so much pressure.

Nature always won.

For too long the force had been crashing against restraints, steadily chipping away. The intensity built. The urgency. The need. Now it broke through the barrier, everything else crumbled away, and the surge of inevitability overrode all else.

Jess knew no emergency patch job could tame this river.

She didn’t want it to.

His need cratered her. She was a strong woman. She’d faced down angry gang members and cold-blooded killers; she hadn’t thought twice about storming a crack house. But Liam’s need penetrated her defenses like nothing she’d ever experienced. His big body she could handle. His shield of anger didn’t faze her. But his need … the depth of it, the rawness, made her feel like a rookie inching along a slender ledge at the top of a skyscraper, trying to talk a lost soul into not jumping. Drawn yet terrified at the same time.

“I thought you said no more late-night visits.” She managed to speak against his demanding mouth. Part of her mourned saying the words, certain they would jar Liam to reality and end the passion between them. But no matter how easy it would be to lose herself in his kiss, she couldn’t let desire override the obvious.

A man like William Armstrong wouldn’t just break through her barriers, he would break her heart.

He pulled back and took her face between his big hands. “This isn’t a visit.”

“What is it then?”

“The hell if I know.” He almost looked angry. “I tried to stay away from you, damn it. But I was home …
 
and it was too damn quiet. Dark. I kept wondering where you were.”

She swallowed. “You told me to stay away.”

His eyes took on a feverish glow. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, and knowing they’re wrong has never stopped me. This time I tried. So damn hard. But—”

“It’s okay,” she said, raising her hands to cup the back of his. “It’s okay to reach out, to need someone.”

He winced. “I’ve never wanted to.”

“Then it’s high time you start.”

That seemed to startle him. He was quiet for a moment, almost looking more inside himself then at her. Then those piercing eyes of his returned to hers, and his hands slid from her face, taking her hair with them. His thumbs stroked along her cheekbones.

“What do
you
need?” he asked.

Somehow she stayed standing, even though the question made her knees go weak. She thought about lying but realized now was no time to start being a coward. “The same thing I want.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, it’s not, is it?” The truth stunned her. She wanted to give this man all she had. Once, the thought of doing so would have made her cringe, feel depleted. But in Liam’s arms, she found that in giving of herself, he gave her even more.

“Then maybe this is.” She returned her mouth to his for a kiss that was more hers than his. A heady sense of power and inevitability rushed through her as she slid her hands along the roughness of his jaw and into his thick hair. She loved the feel of him, the taste, the texture. He held her to his body with a seductive combination of strength and gentleness, as though she were both vital and priceless.

As though he never wanted to let her go.

She pulled back and tried to catch her breath, found she couldn’t.

Confusion hardened his gaze. “Jess—”

“This, Liam. This.” She took his hand and urged him into the warmth of her condo, then kicked the door shut behind him.

“It’s cold out there,” she whispered. The husky clip to her voice spurred her on. “You need some heat.”

Awareness flashed in his eyes, sending a ribbon of female satisfaction unfurling through her. “It’s even warmer upstairs.”

* * *

Liam stood in the semidarkness. Across the room, the dim light of the moon filtered through gauzy, feminine curtains, providing enough illumination to see Jessica opening a drawer by the big bed. A second later he heard a faint scratching noise, then saw a flame flare against the darkness.

Candles, he realized. She was lighting candles. For him.

Get the hell out of here,
he told himself, but before he could, she turned to him and smiled. Her pajamas were old and obviously well-worn, some kind of green-and-blue tartan. The poets talked about a woman in silk, but nothing compared to Jessica in flannel. The V neckline bared her throat and collarbone, made him long to touch the creamy flesh there. Her thick, unruly hair tangled around her face. The light of the candle flickered in her bottomless eyes.

The sight stripped him bare.

She was so brave, so elemental. Like air and water. He found himself craving her smile, her touch, needing her like a tonic he could no longer go without.

He knew he should leave. Warning signs flashed everywhere. He should get the hell out of there while he still could.

“Liam,” she said, and extended her hand, just like she’d done when leading him up the darkened staircase.

His body tightened. He wanted to destroy the distance between them and take what she was offering, but didn’t. He wasn’t sure she’d still be there if he did. Too easily, she could be a trick of the shadows. A smart man, a safe man, would turn and walk away before he got burned yet again.

But Liam couldn’t do that, either.

He was so damn tired of standing on the outside looking in. He’d spent his whole life there, where it was dark. Cold. He’d seen the light inside, the warmth, but he’d never wanted to step over the threshold. Never known how. Until Jessica.

For the first time, he found himself wanting in.

He could still see her that moonless night not so long ago, facing him down at Braxton’s house. There’d been no fear in her beautiful eyes, only a steely determination and ageless awareness he’d responded to instinctively.

“Why are you doing this, Jessica? You’re a smart woman. You know you deserve better.”

She lifted her chin, inviting the hair to fall from her face. “Better than what? A man capable of deep emotions and fierce loyalty? One who tries to do the right thing, even when that means denying himself what he wants most?”

She wore only flannel pajamas, but in the flickering light of the candle, she looked every bit as sure of herself as if she held a gun outstretched in her hands, as she had that first night. She might as well have, too. Her words pierced as deeply as a bullet.

He hated to be the one to shatter her illusions. “That man only lives in fairy tales, sweetheart.”

“That’s not true. He’s standing right in front of me. He’s the only one who could make me do this.” Defiance flashed in her eyes as she raised her hands to her pajama top and slipped the top button through the fabric. Then the next. The next.

“Damn it, Jessica,” he snarled, storming toward her.

She looked up and smiled. “What’s the matter, granite man? Scared?”

He stopped dead in his tracks. For the first time in his life, he knew how a rock must feel when someone took a jackhammer to it. Shards, debris, dust flew everywhere. Jessica just kept right on looking at him with those defiant eyes of her, her fingers working on the gold-covered buttons.

And then she flicked the fabric off her shoulders and let it slide down her body to pool at her feet.

Liam felt his knees go weak, his body stiffen.

That night in the bar, when she’d taken a fist meant for him and lay sprawled in his lap, dazed and unguarded, he’d realized she hid more under her boxy jackets than he’d thought. But even that insight hadn’t prepared him for the sight of her standing in the flickering light of a candle, nude from the waist up.

Her beautiful shoulders gave way to her collarbone, inviting him to look lower. Her breasts … took his breath away. They were full and heavy with large dusky nipples. Nipples that were hard and puckered. Nipples he wanted to taste.

On a muffled oath he looked lower, down her beautifully flat stomach to where the pajama bottoms hung on her hips, just below the indentation of her waist. In one flick of his wrist he could have them down her long legs, see all of her at last.

He knew Jessica Clark in the nude would be a sight like none other.

And he wanted none other. Just her.

Jessica.

The woman with the tough talk but big heart.

She crossed to him, the moonlight streaming in behind her and making her look ethereal, every bit a goddess straight out of his most erotic fantasies. Her chin was lifted, her hair flowing over her body, her movements sure.

She stopped before him, close enough to touch, to feel each breath she expelled, to smell the scent of baby powder and apple that was all Jessica.

He held her gaze a moment, then when she let hers dip, he did the same, to where her breasts almost brushed against his jacket. He wanted to skim his fingers across them. Close his mouth around them. He wanted to suckle, to lave his tongue round and round, to feel her writhe in pleasure. To hear raw moans tear from her throat. He wanted to taste her until neither of them could stand another second without falling over the edge.

The thought made him go even more rigid.

She fingered the leather of his bomber jacket, then slipped her hand inside to the T-shirt beneath. Her touch seared through the cotton, fueled the fire burning lower.

Point of no return
took on a whole new meaning.

“Damn it, Jessica,” he said almost angrily. He didn’t know where this burst of honor came from. He’d never been plagued by it before. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t need to forfeit yourself like some damn virgin sacrifice at a volcano.”

A strange light glinted in her eyes. “A virgin sacrifice? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it?”

She held his gaze just a heartbeat before a slow, provocative smile curved her lips. “Who are you trying to stop, Liam? Who are you trying to protect? Me? Or yourself?”

He looked at her standing there and knew he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. “You’re one of the most innately good people I’ve ever known.”

“And you think good girls don’t do what you want to do right now?”

He almost laughed. “I’ve never known one to.”

“Then you’ve never been with the right woman, or I’m not so good after all.” She pressed closer to him, slid her hand down to where his erection strained against his jeans.

A lesser man would have lost it right then and there.

“I want, Liam,” she said huskily, still looking directly at him. His fearless Jessica backed down from nothing, even when she should. “I want you to keep that promise I see in your eyes.”