Chapter One

“He did what?”

“Ouch.” Lucy Caldwell winced as the screech reverberated in her head before lodging behind her eyeballs. She squinted across the bar table to bring her best friend, Suzie, into focus, then closed one eye. Nope, still two of her. “Dumped me. Apparently I’m cold. Frigid, I think his exact words were.”

Indignation spread over Suzie’s face, and Lucy raised her glass in a mock toast before knocking back the amber liquid. Shuddering as it slid down her throat in a fiery burn, she signaled to the barman for another couple of shots, then stared down morosely into her empty glass. If she were being honest, the fact he’d dumped her wasn’t what hurt. After all, she couldn’t really blame the man when she hadn’t invested much of herself into the relationship. No, it was his words that cut to the quick—and the paralyzing suspicion that he was right.

With her defenses so low, she’d been powerless to resist the force of nature that was Suzie on a mission when she announced she was taking her out to cheer her up. Which was how she found herself half-smashed at the local bar, slugging back whiskey, shot after shot. Before she knew it, she’d unburdened herself of the whole sorry tale in an alcohol-fueled confessional, and she had to admit, it had felt great. She felt lighter than she had in years. Coming home had been the right thing to do.

Blinking back tears that came too often these days, she glanced down. Her order had appeared in front of her as if by magic. Huh. She held the amber liquid up to the light, then took a swallow to ease the blockage in her throat. Would the remnant of shame that clung to her like a second skin ever be as easy to distill?

A snort of disgust sounded from across the table, and her head jerked up, her eyes meeting Suzie’s. They blazed with fire.

“That dirty, rotten bastard. How dare he treat you like that? This was what—your fourth date with him? I swear if he wasn’t my cousin and lived across the Tasman, I’d be over there and giving him a swift kick in the balls.”

Feeling the telltale quiver to her bottom lip, Lucy bit down on it and bent her head, forgetting for the moment the long fall of blonde hair she used to hide behind was no longer. Her friend’s cat-eyes narrowed into dark slits, and Lucy closed her own. She’d never been able to keep much from her.

“Screw it.” Suzie’s voice was as hard as diamonds. “I might just go and do that anyway.”

Mildly alarmed before, Lucy’s alarm grew as her friend fished around in the voluminous handbag she carried around. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving him a piece of my mind, that’s what. If you could have heard the begging he did to get your number in the first place. Then he goes and says that, just because you wouldn’t put out. What a pig. If he only knew what you’ve been through.”

Horrified, Lucy stared as the cell phone was unearthed and her friend started swiping the screen, muttering under her breath. Leaning across the table, she snatched the phone out of her hands.

“Hey! Give it back.”

She shook her head. “Don’t call him, please. It’ll just make everything worse, and I really don’t want him knowing that ugly stuff about me. Besides—” She broke off and took a deep breath. “He kind of had a point.”

Suzie sat back in her chair, one finely plucked brow raised, her arms crossed over her chest.

God. How uncomfortable was it to discuss the finer points of a relationship when the cousin of the significant other was the receptor? Excruciatingly so, that’s how. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. Instead, she picked up her glass and knocked the remainder of her drink back in one gulp. The whiskey burned down her throat, delivering its desired effect, warming the inside while numbing the out. Her vision swam, and she blinked to clear it, her surroundings blurring around the edges.

The impatient tapping of fingernails on wood drew her attention from the pleasant fog, and she glanced up to find Suzie’s steady green gaze on her, her glossed-pink lips pursed with expectation.

Lucy sighed and rested her chin in her hand. Not for the first time, she found herself captivated by her friend’s delicate dark-Irish good looks. The two girls couldn’t have been any more polar opposites. “God, you’re so beautiful it’s disgusting.”

Suzie’s arched brow rose higher. “Thanks—I think. I’ll ignore the fact you’re horrendously drunk and take it as a compliment.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now stop trying to change the subject and talk.”

Horrendously drunk? Lucy’s elbow slipped off the table, and she jerked herself upright. Squinting down at the table, she noted with detached interest the empty glasses littering the surface. Most of them were right under her nose. Hmm. Perhaps she was sozzled.

She gripped the edge of the barrel table to stop it from spinning. “It was all my fault, so don’t blame Jarrod. I led him on.” She blew out a breath, lifting wispy bits of fringe. “I thought I was ready to have sex with him. I mean, he’s hot, and he made no secret of the fact he wanted me. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t want to sleep with him?”

The sound of gagging made her break off on a laugh. “It’s true and you know it, Suze. He’s in demand with the ladies. Always has been. Must be something to do with those bedroom eyes of his. Course, it doesn’t hurt he’s good with his hands.”

“Oh, ugh. I’m so going to have to bleach my brain after tonight,” Suzie muttered with a wince.

“I meant, being a mechanic and all. Get your mind out of the gutter.” The wicked smile faded, and the familiar feelings of shame and inadequacy flooded her head instead. She turned her attention to the tabletop and squinted. When did that drink get there? She didn’t remember ordering it. Shrugging, she picked it up and knocked it back, no wince or shudder this time. It was getting as easy to drink as water. She placed the glass on the table with a satisfying clunk and sighed. “It didn’t matter what he tried, how he touched me; I just couldn’t get into it. The more he tried, the worse I’d get. Uptight and the total opposite of horny. I doubt it was much fun for him either.” She shrugged. “Maybe he was right and I’m just frigid. I swear I could never have sex again and not even miss it.”

“What a shame. Sounds like you just haven’t found the right partner yet.”

Lucy’s eyes widened at the deep, throaty voice behind her and spun around. Her head seemed to lag behind the rest of her body. The whole room swirled into a kaleidoscope, and she tilted out of her chair. A large hand shot out to steady her, the heat in the touch making her knees weak. Or more likely the whiskey, she corrected herself firmly as her gaze connected with a pair of smoky-gray eyes that had haunted her dreams more years than she cared to count. He still wore his dark hair a little long, and her fingers itched to push back the stubborn lock that flopped forward over his forehead, giving him a rakish look.

“Sam,” she breathed, helpless to stop the silly grin spreading over her face. The chair clattered to the ground behind her as she stood and reached up to hug him for all she was worth. With his arms closing around her, she buried her nose in his chest and inhaled. God, he smelled good. Warm, masculine, familiar. Such a delicious combination, she had to fight not to take a bite out of him.

“Hey, brat.”

She looked up and bit back a sigh instead. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed down at her, those beautiful lips she remembered so well curving with amusement mere inches from her own.

A flash of white teeth interrupted her reverie, and she blinked. Had she been staring at his mouth a little too long? She jerked her gaze away. The sudden move made her stumble, and Sam’s arm tightened around her waist. For a moment, she closed her eyes and savored the feeling, her body wanting to melt against him. Even after all these years, he still felt like home. Belatedly, she came to her senses.

“Whoopsy-daisy.” She forced a laugh and pushed against his chest, taking a step back at the same time. “I’d better let the barman know about the floor. It’s wonky.” She pointed at the offending spot. “Someone could hurt themselves.”

“Is that right?” The corner of his mouth twitched in the same way she remembered when he was trying not to laugh. But it always seemed to be at her, and right now was no different.

A flush prickled her cheeks. “Jeez, that didn’t take long to fall back into familiar territory.” She fisted her hands on her hips and cocked her head to cover the sharp edge that had found its way into her words. “I’m glad to see you still find me so amusing.”

His expression softened, and he smiled. “It’s good to see you again too, Lucy. I’ve missed you. You look great, even if you’re a little pissed.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” she protested, her tone deadpan, doing her best to ignore the thrill his words brought. “It was the whiskey.” His bark of laughter made her belly flip-flop. She indicated the empty chair next to her friend. “Want to join us?”

“I’d love to. Hi, Suzie.” He grinned, his gaze warm and appreciative. “You look beautiful as always.”

The thrill died. Lucy swallowed hard as the whiskey curdled in her belly, watching as her best friend glowed under Sam’s attention. Not that she blamed her. She’d seen the effect Sam had on women over and over during her teens. He’d been gorgeous then, but now those gangly arms and wiry body had filled out.

The promise in his wide shoulders had come to fruition and then some. The casual black T-shirt he wore defined the impressive muscles of his biceps and chest, earned through the hard, physical work his job as a landscaper demanded. He sat in a relaxed pose, legs outstretched and strong thighs splayed slightly. Realizing her gaze was in dangerous territory, she jerked her head up, fighting the magnetic pull his lower body encased in jeans worn in all the right places had on her senses.

Turning her eyes back to his face, she bit back a sigh. Reasoning to herself that there really was no safe place for her gaze to rest, she gave in and let it drop to his mouth. God, those lips. She could never be sure if it was the top lip with its perfect cupid’s bow in the middle, or the fuller sensual bottom lip that attracted her so much. Separately they were tempting, but put together, they were a knockout combination. Dirty thoughts invaded her brain every time she looked at his mouth, which was why she’d always tried to avoid it. It didn’t help that her brain flashed back to the memory of how they’d felt against her own that one unforgettable time. It was probably a good thing she was the only one who seemed to remember it.

She lifted her gaze to find him studying her, a slight frown marring his brow. Under his scrutiny, her body heated in a slow simmer, causing a flush to rise to her cheeks. Their eyes connected, his sparking for the briefest of moments with some indecipherable emotion, and her pulse leaped.

With that one look, she finally understood what it was that set him apart from the boy she’d known. Sam the man smoldered with an air of dangerous sexuality.

She swallowed to ease a suddenly dry throat, and it made a funny clicking sound. “What are you doing here, Sam? I’ve never known you to come to the pub by yourself.” She glanced around belatedly. “You are by yourself, aren’t you?”

He leaned back in his chair, an amused tilt to his mouth at her awkward attempt at conversation. His booted foot nudged her calf, and she pulled her legs back at the contact, crossing them at the ankle.

“Your mother told me you were back in New Zealand.”

His words confirmed her growing suspicion, and her eyes narrowed. “And she asked you to keep an eye on me, didn’t she? And just like the old days, you trotted out to do her bidding, to look after the baby.”

His silence and crossed arms told her she’d hit the nail on the head. Apart from the slight tick beside his right eye, he remained impassive. Once upon a time, her prodding would have caused a reaction. Yet another thing that marked the passage of time.

Frustration boiled out of her in a hiss. Frustration, and the thought that he wasn’t here voluntarily. “God! I’m twenty-five years old, Samuel Merrick. I’ve been living in a whole different country for the past six years all by myself and did just fine. I don’t need a babysitter. Or another brother. I already had one of those.”

As soon as the sharp words left her mouth, she wanted to slap herself. Pain flashed in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned down. The whiskey she’d been throwing back churned in her gut, threatening to make a reappearance, and she excused herself from the table, her chair scraping back with a loud screech. Sam rounded the table in a flash, but she held up a hand and shrank away from his touch. “I’m going to the bathroom. Unless your babysitting duties include wiping my butt, you can stay here. Why don’t you make yourself useful and order me another whiskey, huh?”

“I think you’ve had plenty enough already,” he said, his mouth tightening a little in that disapproving line she remembered so well. He’d worn this look around her often—when he wasn’t laughing at her, that was.

Rolling her eyes, she marched to the ladies’. At least she thought she marched. It was hard to tell when her vision swam and her head was so cloudy. Slamming the door behind her, she stood before the mirror and placed cool hands on overheated cheeks. She closed her eyes and groaned. Yet again, she was making a spectacle of herself. Was she doomed to repeat such behavior when he was around? What was it about him that made her revert back to a child? She glared at her reflection, berating herself for thinking even for a moment that he was here just because he’d missed her, that he’d sought her out just for the pleasure of her company. And even worse, she was letting her hurt feelings that he hadn’t show. “How will he ever see you as anything but a child if you keep acting like one? You stupid twit.”

The door to the restroom pushed open a crack, and Suzie’s face appeared in the sliver of space. “Okay to come in?”

She nodded and shuffled over. “Sorry about that.” She grimaced as Suzie stepped beside her and their eyes met in the mirror. “I’m just sick of Sam treating me like his kid sister. I’m a grown woman, damn it. I thought after these years apart he’d have noticed.”

Suzie’s eyes rounded, and then her face lit up in a delighted grin. “You’ve still got the hots for him.”

Lucy opened her mouth to deny it as she’d been doing for years, then remembered her recent promise to act like an adult. Her shoulders drooped. “Is it that obvious?” When Suzie nodded, she closed her eyes. “God, how embarrassing.”

Her friend’s laughter echoed in the small room. “Don’t worry.” She patted her arm. “Your secret’s safe with me. If it’s any consolation, I doubt he’s noticed. Men are hopeless like that. But since he’s here and you fancy the pants off him, why don’t you make the most of it?”

Lucy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, take the bull by the horns.” She bumped her shoulder and waggled her eyebrows. “And take that as literally as you like. Make him see you in a different light. You never know where it’ll lead.”

The image of going up to Sam, pulling his head down, and kissing him played in her head. Her heart thudded in her chest, her breath caught, and her lips tingled. And then the memory of the time she’d done just that superseded it. Heat crawled up her throat in remembered humiliation at his less-than-enthusiastic response.

“No.” She shook her head and smoothed her hair into place. “I can’t. You’ve just heard me tell you what happened between me and your cousin. Even if he didn’t push me away in disgust, what if I froze with him? I couldn’t bear it. It would ruin our relationship, and he’s too important to me to risk it.”

“Mind if I give him a go, then?”

Lucy recoiled as if she’d been slapped, her stomach dropping as she stared at her best friend in horror. Everything inside her froze. Suzie was everything she wasn’t. Sleek, elegant, and effortlessly sexy. When she wore her long, black hair loose as she had tonight, she’d walk into a room and all male eyes followed her. Within minutes, she would have an endless stream of suitors wanting to buy her a drink, ask for a dance or her number. It had never bothered Lucy before, until now when her sights had settled on Sam. Her hackles rose, and she straightened her shoulders, ready for battle.

And then Suzie laughed. “Easy there, Luce. Just testing.” She stood back from the mirror, a satisfied smile on her face, and cocked her head. “Doesn’t your reaction tell you something? You need to do something about it before he’s snapped up. A good-looking man like that, it won’t take long. I’m going to head home, leave you two to catch up.”

“Wait—you can’t do that.” Panic momentarily dulled her responses, and Suzie took advantage, slipping away before she could make a grab for her.

“Yeah, I can. I’m gone. Talk to you tomorrow,” she added over her shoulder with a waggle of her fingers, and the door slapped closed behind her.

Lucy took a couple of deep breaths, then squared her shoulders again. Her stomach swirled with nerves, but now the alcohol in her system was her friend, lending her courage. What was she so worried about? This was Sam. He’d seen her at her best, and he’d definitely seen her at her worst, and he was still here. So what if it was at the direction of her mother? No one could push him around or manipulate him to do something he didn’t want to do. He was here for her, and that meant something. Besides, he was still one of her most favorite people in the world. Why was she wasting time sulking in a pub bathroom when she could be spending time with him?

She opened the door and stepped back out into the crowded bar. The music throbbed through her veins, the wooden floors vibrating under every step from the scores of dancing feet. Her gaze cut through the crowd and located Sam at their table, Suzie bent close to his ear. Jealousy flared briefly as he grinned at something she said in parting, then faded as his chin lifted, his eyes searching before locking on hers. The grin disappeared, and Lucy’s stomach clenched as they stared at each other across the room.

Shaking off her earlier negative thoughts, she strode across the floorboards.

“Hey, baby.”

She jerked to a halt as a handsome, dark-skinned man stepped in front of her, halting her progress. His hand on her elbow tugged her closer so her hip pressed into his thigh. Someone jostled her from behind, pushing her forward, and he took advantage, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her full-length against him. Instinctively, her palms flattened on his chest and pushed, trying to create some distance.

“Let me go,” she demanded as her body went rigid. A ripple of fear started low in her belly as he gave her a squeeze, his hands roaming low on her back and his eyes lost in her cleavage.

“Eventually.” He grinned, his breath sour with stale beer. “I just wanted to know first, do you have any Maori in you?”

“What?” Distracted at the strange question, she frowned. With her short blonde hair and pale skin, she didn’t think there was anyone less likely to be mistaken for a Maori woman. “No.”

He leered down at her. “Want some?” His hips thrust against hers in case she mistook his meaning, then he bent his head and licked her from the base of her throat to chin.

She reared back from the waist, shock and disgust leaving her speechless, and then the panic that had been idling since he touched her flared to life. Before she could raise her knee in a move designed to emasculate him, he was pulled away with great force.

Clothing bunched at his throat, the man gagged, his hands flying to his neck as his eyes bulged. Sam towered behind him, his face menacing and teeth bared. Twisting the material tighter in his fist, Sam lowered his head to the man’s ear. “I see you put your tongue anywhere it’s not wanted again and I’ll rip it out, understand?” The words were a snarl, and at the man’s frantic nod, Sam released him with a shove. Reaching out, he drew Lucy against his side, his touch possessive. “Apologize to her.”

The man sucked in air and massaged his throat. Like an obedient child, he turned his gaze on her, his naturally tanned skin now a sickly shade of gray. “I’m sorry, miss. If I’d known your boyfriend was here, I’d never have touched you.”

A growl reverberated from Sam’s chest. “Not good enough.”

The other man fled, and Sam lunged as if to give chase.

“No.” Lucy snagged his wrist and pulled him back to her side. “Guys like that just don’t get it, and they certainly aren’t worth it. I’m sure to him that was an apology.” She smiled up at him, then ducked her head quickly when it wobbled a little around the edges.

“Hey.” His eyes sharpened on her. “You’re shaking.” Gentle fingers under her chin forced her to meet his concerned gaze. “Did he hurt you?” His body tensed as he waited for her answer, only relaxing fractionally when she shook her head.

“No. But can we get out of here? I’ve had enough.”

“Right away.” Without another word, his hand closed over hers and guided her through the throng of people and out onto the street. After the door closed behind them, the world hushed. Crisp air slapped her cheeks, reminding her winter was once again approaching. The season of death. A reminder that life wasn’t guaranteed and it certainly shouldn’t be wasted.

Sam hailed a taxi as it came toward them. It slowed, then pulled into a U-turn to park next to them.

“I don’t want to go home just yet,” she blurted, her hand halting him as he bent to address the driver. “Can I come to yours instead? It’ll give us a chance to catch up on the years we’ve missed with each other.”

He stared at her for a few beats, one brow raised. Then as if he’d seen something on her face to his liking, a smile ghosted his lips. “Sounds good.”

He held the door open for her, and she scrambled in, expecting him to close it after her and get into the front with the driver. Instead, he followed her. Biting down on her lip to prevent a squeak, she shuffled over until her hip hit the door.

He gave her an amused look. “Relax, Luce. It’s just me.”

She tried. Lord, did she try, but that was the problem. It was him. Then he leaned forward, his hand resting on the space between them as he gave instructions to the driver, fingers inches from her thigh. Her throat convulsed with that funny dry click again. When he sat back, his hand remained there. To stop from staring at it, to curb the fantasies that jumped into her head, she turned her gaze out the window, pretending interest in the shadows and light blurring like warp speed past the glass.