Chapter Two

Sam sat back and watched Lucy with a faint smile. A small movement drew his gaze to her lap. Her left thumb rubbed at the palm of her right, a nervous habit he recognized from years ago. He frowned. Was she afraid of being alone with him? Just then, she stole a look at him under her lashes, and her face paled. She jerked her gaze back to the window, and her thumb dug harder into her palm. He remembered her frantic movements as she tried to push that jerk off her, how fast her breathing had been, and the trembling in her body as he held her. And now she was looking at him with that same expression.

Unsure what he’d done, he laid his palm over her hands, stilling the movement. They were icy cold. He cupped them, bringing them up to his mouth, and blew to warm them. Bright blue eyes widened on his, and soft pink lips parted in surprise, drawing his gaze like a magnet. The sudden and unexpected urge to lean forward and kiss her blindsided him, and he had to forcibly relax and shuffle farther back into the seat. Where did that come from? Here she was, looking at him all round-eyed and innocent, while his thoughts were the complete opposite. Disappointment in himself was an understatement. He’d worked hard to rein in that kind of thinking years ago.

He cleared his throat. “You don’t need to be scared of me, Lucy. I’d never hurt you. You know that, right?”

Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back and swallowed, hard enough he could hear her throat working. “I know.” She gave him a wan smile and pulled her hands out from under his in the pretense of smoothing her hair. So different from how it had been when last he’d seen her. Then it had been girlishly long and to her waist. Now it was short and layered around her face in feathery wisps. It suited her. She looked more womanly, more composed and sure of herself. Just one of the many subtle changes he’d noticed about her, but this one was a good one.

Arriving at his address, he paid the cabbie and led the way up the overgrown path bordered by half-dead rose bushes to his front door. As he jiggled the key in the lock, he caught Lucy studying the mess of weeds and neglect and gave a self-deprecating grin. “I know. It’s a good thing my clients don’t see this, or I’d never get any work.”

Amusement sparkled from her eyes. “Just like a builder’s home is forever a project.”

He snorted. “Exactly. I keep meaning to do something about it but can’t seem to find the time.” He pushed the door wide and gestured for her to enter, glad he’d thought to leave the lounge room light on. She made a beeline for it and stopped dead in the middle, her handbag dropping at her feet.

“Oh, wow.” She turned to face him, her smile so wide and unaffected his chest gave that funny ache again. There she was. The girl he’d known. He’d missed her. “That view is spectacular.”

“It’s pretty good, huh?” He stepped down into the sunken lounge and joined her before the picture window. The bay spread out before them, lights from houses on the opposite shore reflecting on the dark, calm water. They stood in companionable silence for a minute before Sam noticed the tension returning to Lucy’s body in small increments.

“Have a seat,” he offered, his hand going to her back. She stiffened under his touch, and he broke contact immediately, doing his best to keep his expression neutral even as his belly roiled and his hands wanted to clench into fists. Something was going on with her. The comment he’d overheard her make in the pub had set all his internal alerts off in a big way. What had happened to make a flinch her first reaction to an innocent touch? “I’m going to put some coffee on unless you want something lighter.”

“Got any whiskey?”

Now he allowed his frown full rein. “I think you’ve had more than enough for the evening, don’t you?”

“I was enjoying it.”

“A little too much from what I saw. There were a lot of empty glasses in front of you. The girl I knew would be falling over her own feet and uttering, ‘I love you,’ to everyone within spitting distance with half of what you must have consumed.”

Her eyes flashed, her mouth thinning. “Yeah, well. That girl you knew no longer exists, Sam. I’ve grown up some since then.”

“So I’ve noticed,” he murmured under his breath before raising his voice. “I’m hoping she still exists somewhere. I liked her.”

Before she could answer with the snarky comment he sensed brewing, he turned his back and strode to the kitchen. Coffee beans measured and ground, he poured them into the machine and switched it on. While he waited, he braced his hands on the cold marble and closed his eyes, letting his head drop forward between his shoulders.

Years ago, he’d vowed to protect Lucy, but anyone with eyes could see she’d been hurt. Badly. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Overhearing her say to Suzie she could do with never having sex again made his jaw grind. It was just plain wrong. She’d been a passionate girl once. The memory of the way she’d thrown herself at him at Jordan’s funeral proved it. Her kiss had been full of heat and fervor. The way her whole body had strained toward him, demanding his response, had been at once innocent and unbearably seductive. She’d been young and guileless, but she’d been anything but cold that day.

His body grew warm, his lower half stirring as it did every time he thought about that moment, and his eyes snapped open. Cursing under his breath, he pushed off from the marble and straightened. Once already he’d failed Jordan. No way was he going to let that happen again. No matter how uncomfortable it made him, now she was back home, he would be there for her, just as he’d promised.

Taking a tray from a cupboard, he placed the carafe, coffee cups, milk, and biscuits on it and carried it through to where she sat on the couch, her legs curled up underneath her, gazing out at the view. She looked so right in his lounge that his step faltered. Hearing him, she turned her head and gave him a soft smile.

“You remembered I don’t have sugar?”

“How could I forget? You’ve always been sweet enough.”

Their gazes caught, and she bit her lip. Her cheeks blushed a rosy pink, and she ducked her head. He grinned as he passed her a cup and sat next to her, not too close, but enough he could make out the faint echo of the freckles that had dotted her nose. She brought the mug to her mouth and took a sip. Her eyes closed momentarily, then smiled into his.

“Real coffee,” she sighed. “I’d forgotten how much of a coffee snob you were, but boy, am I glad. Mum still drinks that instant crap. You know, the kind you can still taste in your mouth the morning after.” She shuddered, then lifted her cup in salute. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured and took a sip of his own, enjoying the slide of caffeine down his throat, the slight buzz as it hit his bloodstream. A comfortable silence descended. He glanced over at her and smiled. Totally relaxed, her eyes held the dreamy quality one gained from being pleasantly sloshed. As casually as he could, he broached the subject that had been eating at him all night. “So what was with the conversation you were having with Suzie when I interrupted? It sounded interesting.”

Like an animal caught in headlights, her eyes widened, and her cup froze midway to her mouth. Then she blinked, and it was as if a curtain had come down over them. “Oh, that.” Her laugh, which would have sounded natural to anyone who didn’t know her, sounded brittle and false to his ears. It was a little too loud, too careless, and ended too abruptly. “It was nothing. I just didn’t want Suzie to think badly of her cousin. He’s a good man.”

He quirked a brow and let the silence grow until it bordered on uncomfortable, a strategy that had worked multiple times in the past. As he knew she would, she squirmed, trying to appear nonchalant, and he held back a grin at the telling reaction. It still worked.

“Fine.” She placed her cup on the coffee table with a thud, hugged her legs into her chest, and rested her chin on her knees. “So it wasn’t nothing—but I don’t want to talk about it—especially with you. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Oh, come on, Lucy,” he cajoled. “You can trust me. Let me help you.”

The blue of her eyes darkened as they leveled on him, the mixture of sadness and resignation in their depths stopping him in his tracks. The lazy grin dropped from his face as his gut clenched.

“You can’t. And you need to stop playing big brother with me.”

Big brother? That was the second time tonight she’d made such a comment. He straightened and turned more fully to face her. “What?”

“Come on, Sam. I know you feel obligated to Jordan since he’s dead and all, but I’m telling you now, I don’t want your protection, and the last thing I want is for you to treat me like your little sister.”

Acutely aware of his heart thumping hard against the wall of his chest, he stared at her. Feeling like he was navigating dangerous waters, he spoke softly, his gaze never leaving hers, willing her to trust him, to share the pain he clearly saw in her eyes. “I don’t think of you like that, Lucy. I never have. Yes, I promised Jordan I’d look out for you, but I’d do that anyway. You’re special to me. It kills me to see you hurting.” At the negative shake of her head, he clicked his tongue. “Don’t pretend with me, Luce. You forget I know you. You’re hurting. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from whatever happened, but maybe I can help you now.”

Her beautiful eyes filled up with tears, and this time, they were too plentiful to blink away. It didn’t stop her from trying, though, and his heart broke a little at the effort she made. Even though she pressed her lips together hard enough to turn them bloodless, it wasn’t enough to prevent the first sob from escaping.

“Aw, brat. Come here.” Scooting closer, he pulled her into a hug. As if by osmosis, his chest ached with the pain he felt coming off her in waves. Shudders racked her body, and he held her tight, stroking a palm up and down her back, as if he could take the pain away by touch alone. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he inhaled, and his nostrils filled with a delicious smell, one that tugged at his memory, and he closed his eyes to better concentrate on it. Pomegranate, blackberry, and amber—her signature scent.

For her thirteenth birthday, he’d gifted her with a basket of body lotions from one of the natural stores in town that were all the rage, telling her that now she was a teenager, she should have a scent signifying that. He remembered the look of adoration on her face when he gave her the gift, the blush that had stolen over her cheeks, and in that moment, he’d gotten a glimpse of the woman she was destined to be. It both thrilled and scared him shitless. Not that his teenage self had any clue why, he just knew it did. Little did he know how he’d grow to associate that scent with her. Just a hint of one of the undertones would have him distracted from whatever he was doing, lifting his head to find the source.

And she was still wearing it. Funny how many small details he’d locked away about this woman. It only took seeing her, breathing in her scent, to have them all come tumbling out again.

Slowly, her sobs subsided, and she pulled away to dab at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He cleared his throat at the gruffness. “Want to talk about it? A problem shared and all that.”

“Oh, Sam.” Her chin wobbled, but she bit down on her bottom lip until she’d regained control, then gave a little nod, as if affirming something to herself. “I’m scared I’m never going to be normal again.”

He huffed out a laugh and gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze. “Normal is seriously overrated.” His attempt at levity fell flat and unnoticed at the space between them, and her chin wobbled.

“How am I meant to find a partner, have a family, and settle down if I can’t bear a man to touch me? I’m broken, and I don’t know how to fix myself.”

Cold fingers of dread iced his heart, radiating outward as her words registered. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been afraid of nothing. Ten-foot tall and fearless. Only one thing could have happened to cause this abrupt change in personality, the fear shadowing her eyes. As he watched, she bit down on her lip, stilling the telltale tremble.

A red mist of rage built, melting the ice in a second, sending fire through his veins and curdling his thought processes. Forcing air through his nose, he inhaled slow and deep. Lucy needed him calm. He concentrated on relaxing one muscle at a time, his fingers unfurling from clenched fists, until finally the red mist disappeared, leaving a slight pounding at his temples.

When he could trust himself to speak, he settled her back against his chest, his arms loose about her waist. Maybe it would be easier for her to unburden herself if she didn’t have to meet his eyes. God knew it would be easier to hear, and maybe then he’d have a shit-show in hell of keeping control of his emotions. He forced gentleness into his tone. “Tell me.”

Her chest lifted in a deep breath. She held it for a few seconds, then let it go on a shuddering exhale. “I was so stupid. So naïve when I first moved to Aussie. I thought I knew it all. I trusted people at face value. Until I learned some people hide their true selves, to lull you into a false sense of security to get what they want.” A shudder went through her body, rattling her teeth. “And then if they don’t get it, they just take it instead.”

She lapsed into silence, lost in reflection, and Sam fought to remain calm. He concentrated on the dual sound of their breathing. His was deliberately slow and measured; hers quick and shallow. He let the silence stretch out and stroked a hand through her hair over and over, soothing them both. Her scent rose to his nostrils as his fingers riffled through the short strands, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Who was he and what did he do?” Keeping his voice level was proving difficult, and he cleared his throat to remove the growl that seemed to have lodged permanently at the base.

For a moment, her body stiffened, but he continued stroking, easing her with a gentle touch. The sigh, when it finally came, seemed to come from her very soul.

“He was a friend of my flatmate’s. One of those quick and witty guys everyone loves. The life of the party. We became friendly, and soon he starting coming around when my flatmate wasn’t around to see me. I didn’t think anything of it—just thought we were friends. I’d never given him any hint I thought of him as anything more.” She made a self-depreciating noise through her nose and shook her head. “He obviously thought otherwise.” Her arms wrapped tight around her middle before she continued with her story. “One day, he sat down next to me, closer than normal, so I shuffled over, but he only closed the gap. When I turned to ask what he was doing, he pushed me back onto the couch, and suddenly his hands were everywhere.”

Her breathing had sped up, and Sam stroked her upper arm, his fingertips gliding over her skin, trying to impart through touch alone that he was there. She was safe.

“I succeeded in pushing him off me enough to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, and he answered, ‘What we both want.’ ” She shook her head. “I kind of froze then. Why would he think such a thing? Had I led him on inadvertently? Then he started kissing me hard, like he was punishing me, his teeth grating on my lips.” Her fingers pressed against her mouth. “I remember tasting blood. I struggled. Told him to stop. That’s when he got nasty.” Her voice tapered into a husky whisper. “I’ve never heard such hatred in a voice before, never seen someone turn so ugly before my eyes.”

Sam pressed his lips to the top of her head, his eyes closed as her words and pain cut through him. Murderous rage simmered under the surface of his skin, the blood running through his veins molten hot. God knew he didn’t want to hear any more. Didn’t want to see the pictures clear as day in his head, but she needed him to. Needed to unburden herself. Her hand gripped his forearm, nails digging into his skin as if anchoring herself, to stop getting swept back into the horror of the past.

“Despite my screams to stop, to get off me, he didn’t listen. He didn’t care, just continued spitting awful words at me. I tried to get away. I really did, but he was too strong. In the end, all I could do was close my eyes and try to imagine I was somewhere else. Pretend the nightmare was happening to someone else.”

Tears dripped onto his forearm, and his heart broke for her all over again. Now that the worst of her story was over, her fingers loosened their death grip.

It took him a few moments to find his voice. To keep it low and emotionless. “What happened afterward? Did you phone the police?”

She shook her head.

“What?” His whole body tensed without his permission. “Lucy, why not? That asshole needed to be punished for what he did.”

“I know.” She pushed away and scooted to the end of the couch, drawing her knees to her chin. “But I couldn’t.” Her eyes darkened. “My flatmate, George, arrived home soon after. At first, he was horrified, but slowly, he sided with his friend. Told me if I reported him, he’d swear I’d led him on for months, asked for it.”

Air hissed out from between Sam’s clenched teeth as the control he’d been striving so hard for wavered. “What the fuck? He’s as bad as his mate.”

She shook her head sadly. “Almost, but I think he had something over him. I remember the glances between them. George’s was desperate and apologetic when I caught his gaze, but sheer panic when he glanced at his friend. His”—she spat the word—“was pure, smug certainty.”

“But surely the police would have investigated and found they were lying. There’d be all sorts of tests, photographs of your injuries to back up your statement.”

“If that had been the only factor, I would have, Sam. I hated the thought of him getting away with it. I wanted to slap that smug look off his face. But his father is high up in the police force, his mother a respected lawyer. He informed me they’re used to making his problems ‘go away.’ I believed him. Besides, I didn’t want to go through what would have been a circus in court to find out. I’d already been through one nightmare. I didn’t think I could survive another.” She shrugged, the jerky movement making a lie of nonchalance.

Wordless, he stared at her. She said she’d been through one nightmare, but in reality she hadn’t come out the other side yet, thanks to the perpetrator not suffering any consequences. That made him wild.

He vowed to find the bastard and make him pay. No one hurt his Lucy and got away with it. Not while he still breathed. It didn’t matter that it had happened years ago; the fact it had happened at all and still affected her today did. He remembered the fearless girl of her youth. Knowing some of that zest for life had been stolen from her in an unpunished act of violence enraged him.

“You don’t think I’m a coward, do you, Sam? Please understand—I just wanted it all to go away. I carried on and got on with my life. Moved to another city and found another job. It was the only thing I had control over.”

His gaze sharpened at the smallness to her voice. Big blue eyes were glued to his face, watching every nuance. Worry etched her forehead.

Idiot. She thinks you’re angry with her. She needs your reassurance.

In slow increments, Sam forced locked muscles to relax. He reached across the short distance between them and gathered her once more into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. In a few seconds, she softened and laid her head on his chest, her ear directly over his heart. The embrace was as much for her as it was for him. The wild anger receded into the background, his pulse returning to normal as the familiar feel and scent of her grounded him. Yes, the bastard needed to be punished, but he was out of reach for now. He’d keep. Lucy on the other hand was right here, and she needed him now.

“No, honey. You’re no coward. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” Her body went limp against him, and his arms tightened in response. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, so don’t you dare be thinking along those lines. I’m here, and I’m going to help you through this, okay? Whatever you need, just ask, and I promise I’ll be there for you.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Her voice was soft, the vibration of it echoing through his veins in a pleasant buzz. He could stay like this forever, just breathing her in, holding her, protecting her. Suddenly her whole body tensed, and she lifted her head off his chest. “Actually, there is something you could help with.”

He glanced down into her upturned face, puzzled at the hesitant tone. Curiously, her cheeks flamed bright red. She bit her bottom lip, his gaze followed, and there was that urge again.

What the hell, man? Stop it! He gave himself a mental slap in the head. She’s hurting. The last thing she needs is another man pawing at her right now.

“What is it, brat?” He used the nickname deliberately, hoping to remind his subconscious of their relationship. She squirmed slightly against his hip and released her lower lip. He grimaced as her soft curves pressed against his side, awakening the animal side of him that didn’t care about impropriety, and he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

She opened her mouth to answer, then ducked her head. The blush had spread to the tips of her ears.

He suppressed a smile and gave her a gentle nudge. “Come on. Whatever you need, remember?”

“Yeah.” She opened her mouth again and then shut it so hard her teeth clacked.

Sam couldn’t restrain his grin this time. Whatever the request, it must be a goodie. The only other time he’d seen her face this particular shade of red was just after she’d kissed him and he’d shut her down. The grin faded as a strong wave of inevitability washed over him. Looking down into her flushed face, listening to her accelerated breathing, he suddenly knew what she was going to ask of him. He sucked in a breath and racked his brain, thinking of a kind way to turn her down gently, but she got there before him.

“I need your help to find a man.”

“Lucy, it’s not a good idea we…wait— What?” The breath wheezed out of him as her words sank in. “Why?”

She was biting her lip again. The poor thing would be bloody and raw if the abuse continued. Lifting a hand, he brushed the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb until she released it. Her eyes closed, and her chest lifted on a deep breath. On the exhale, she opened her eyes, pinning him with a determined look. Uh, oh. There she was again. The old Lucy he knew so well. The look he associated with trouble.

“At the bar tonight, Suzie suggested it’s time to work on getting over my fear of intimacy, and I can’t help thinking she’s right. It’s been two years since I was with a man. She suggested I have friends and family set me up with decent men they trust. The more I thought about it, the more I like it. It’s perfect, don’t you think? I can move on in the relationships knowing these men have already been vetted. It’s a safe bet they’re decent.”

“Are you crazy?” The words exploded out of him before he could tamp them down. “You’re seriously contemplating going through with Suzie’s scheme? There are so many flaws and dangers in her plan I don’t know where to start listing them. She’s not a therapist for God’s sake.” Hoarse from yelling, he cleared his throat. So much for keeping things calm, but in the face of her crazy plan, he couldn’t help it.

“I know that, Sam. Better than anyone.” Her voice was fierce. “But the more I thought about it, the more the idea had merit. I don’t want to be labeled frigid all my life. I don’t want to be frigid all my life. And you know what? I don’t care if it seems extreme to you or anyone else. No one knows what it’s like to be in my shoes. It’s something I need to do.” Despite her obvious embarrassment, her gaze was resolute and didn’t waver. “If I don’t do something now, I’ll never be normal again. I can feel it.”

“But…” His mind filled with images of her making love with a string of unknown men. They paraded around, smug smiles on their faces as they eyeballed him—taunting him. Blood roared in his ears.

She glanced at his face and grimaced. “I know. It’s weird, and I’m sorry to ask you, but who better? You’re one of the few men I trust.”

Her eyes bored into him, practically willing him to her way of thinking. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on what the situation merited—he knew her well enough to know once she’d made up her mind about something, there was little anyone could do to dissuade her.

“I’m not asking you to find me a husband or anything,” she continued, blissfully unaware of the inferno currently roaring through his entire system. “Just someone kind and patient. I want to be able to enjoy sex again like a normal person, but I need help to do that. I don’t trust my own instincts anymore.” Her hand gripped his forearm, fingers tightening almost painfully as she implored him with her eyes. “There is no one I trust more than you, Sam. Please.”

His body ran hot and cold as her request filtered in and all the ramifications raced through his mind in a nanosecond. She wanted him to find her a man to help her rediscover the pleasure of sex. To teach her to enjoy intimate touch, the right of all human beings, to supersede the painful memories and keep her with him in the present when the disgusting memories threatened to steal her joy. It made him feel like a pimp. The idea made him want to vomit.

“No.” He knew his voice was ragged and harsh, but he couldn’t soften it for the life of him. “How could you ask that of me? Even if I knew of someone I could approach about that, there is no way in hell I’d trust anyone enough to treat you the way you should be. Finding a good lover is not like ordering a pizza for God’s sake.”

She paled, and her hand dropped to her lap. “Do you know how hard for me this was to ask you, Sam?” Her throat moved in a hard swallow, and she tried to turn her head away from him to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes, but he curled his fingers around her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“No, Lucy. You’re not hiding from me. Look at me.”

He waited until her gaze rose from the vicinity of his chin, and muttered a curse as a lone tear escaped over her lower lashes. Something stirred in his chest, and he swiped at the moisture with his thumb before it could track down her cheek. “You’re going to do this with or without my help, aren’t you, Luce?”

Her jaw set under his fingers, and she gave him a defiant nod.

He ground out another curse and opened his mouth. “If this is what you really want, what you think you need to get past this, I will be your lover. Me. No one else. Got it?”

Her eyes grew wide, and her pretty pink lips parted as she stared up at him, her expression dumbstruck. Exactly how he felt when he heard the words trip out of him. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t exactly been planning to say that. But no matter that it was a spur of the moment thing; the steady beat of his heart and the sudden clearing of his head assured him it was the right thing to do. It was the only way he could guarantee her safety. Too many things could go wrong while she was so delicate, and he’d have no way of knowing until it was too late. No way was he risking that—risking her. Not when he could stop it happening altogether.

His grip on her chin loosened, and his thumb caressed her jaw. “God knows, you deserve to have the world at your feet, Lucy, and you deserve better, but if you’re determined to go down this path, know the only man I’ll be offering you is me.”

****

Lucy stared at him.

Had Sam really just said that? Had he really just offered himself up to her?

His words echoed in her head, imprinted on her soul. Her heart leaped into her throat, then beat hard against the wall of her chest before her eyes dropped to the small smile playing across his lips, and ugly suspicion formed. It was a joke. A cruel one and one she’d never have associated with the Sam she’d known. She tried to ignore the disappointment slamming through her.

“Are you drunk?” She cringed at the sharp tone to her voice.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he threw his head back in laughter.

God—that laugh. Yet another thing she’d always loved about him. It was the kind of deep and dirty laugh that urged her to join in. That made her want to share funny anecdotes with him just to hear it slide along her senses in a dark velvet caress again and again. She stared at the strong column of his throat, mesmerized by the urge to lick where his pulse visibly thrummed just under the skin.

“No. I’m not drunk—or on any other mind-altering drugs before you ask. What makes you think that?”

Snapping back to reality, she realized how close they sat together and tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her. She stiffened, pushing at his chest, and he glanced down, his expression quizzical. Something in her face must have alerted him to her building tension because he loosened his hold. His gaze, warm and engaging, waited for her answer, watching her closely.

Slowly, she became aware of the heat from his body radiating into hers. From solid chest to muscled thigh, he was like a furnace warming her chilled bones, and all she wanted to do was sink into his heat. Before the desire to do so swallowed the rest of her pride, she sat up and held herself aloof. The last thing she wanted from Sam was pity.

“Why would I think that? Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because I’ve always repulsed you?” An underlying shadow of bitterness edged her response, and she bit on her thumbnail, hoping he hadn’t heard it, but she’d never been that lucky.

The humor dropped from his expression in a nanosecond, a frown replacing it. “Repulsed me…?” His lips flattened, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a sharp breath. “God, Lucy. Where do you get these ideas from?”

Lucy’s brows shot up at the hurt in his voice. He was upset? Angry, she pushed away from him, and this time he let her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You never had to say the actual words, Sam. You were always pretty good at spelling it out for me.”

“Well then, if that was the answer you came up with, you weren’t putting the letters in the right order.”

“Unbelievable. How can you say that?” she scoffed. “Every time I came near you, you’d put on that bored, blank face of yours. I hated that face. And at Jordan’s funeral, when I kissed you, you practically shoved me away as if you couldn’t get rid of me soon enough. I can still hear the disgust in your voice when you told me ‘no.’ ”

“Disgust?” He gave a humorless laugh. “Hell, Lucy, you couldn’t be more wrong. Allow me to set the record straight. If I hadn’t pushed you away when I did, you would have felt for yourself just how far from disgust I was actually feeling.”

Her eyes widened. Surely he couldn’t mean what she thought he meant? Her stomach fluttered, and she swallowed nervously.

“Yeah, that’s right.” His eyes glittered dangerously, and her stomach went into freefall at the raw sound to his voice. “I was far from disgusted—with you anyway. But I was furious with myself.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving strands sticking up all over his head. “It was my best mate’s final farewell, a guy I thought of as a brother, and there I was having dirty thoughts and pawing his little sister. The very one I’d sworn to protect if he wasn’t around.” Eyes darkened with pain met hers. “He hadn’t even been in the ground ten minutes, and I’d already broken his trust.”

She blinked as the world as she knew it tilted on its axis. After all those years, could she really have read the situation so completely wrong? “It wasn’t your fault, Sam. Emotions were high, and I’d thrown myself at you after you’d come to find me after running off. What were you meant to do?”

“Keep my hands to myself that’s what, instead of letting it get out of hand. It was a selfish moment and one I’m not proud of. And then I made it worse by hurting you. It kills me to know that I did.”

Lucy bit her lip as tears pricked her eyes. “So it wasn’t because you couldn’t bear to be around me, then?”

His laugh was a strangled sound in his throat. “No, brat. That part you got right.”

She swallowed the gasp of pain his words caused and waited, even though everything inside her wanted to weep. The tension in every line of his body told her there was more to come.

When he continued, his voice had deepened into a sultry growl. “I tried to keep you at a distance because I couldn’t trust myself around you. Everything in me screamed to taste you again, to ignite the passion I suspected would explode under my touch after that brief encounter. I wanted that more than I wanted my next breath.” He broke off and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, his voice was once again under control. “But I couldn’t. You were Jordan’s little sister and off-limits. The best thing to do—the only thing—was keep my distance.”

Silence, hot and heavy, blanketed the room after his confession, and Lucy shut her mouth with a snap. Waves of heat curled through her body, prickling her skin. Her nipples tightened, pushing against the fabric of her shirt. Sam’s gaze dropped to the betraying reaction. When he lifted his gaze to hers, she shivered. Dilated pupils had turned his silvered eyes almost black. She didn’t know if she were excited or terrified that he was finally looking at her like that.

His hand lifted, his forearm brushing against the outer swell of her breast on its way to cup her jaw. “But staying away only kept you safe from me, not the other animals out there. I won’t chance anyone hurting you again. And this time, I can and will prevent it.”

His eyes grew heavy-lidded as he lifted her chin, bringing their mouths closer until they were just a breath apart. Was he going to kiss her? She caught and held her breath, the sweet suspense making her heart leap into her throat.

With a wicked grin, he lowered his head and bypassed her tingling lips. Her huff of disappointment turned into a breathy sigh when he nuzzled her neck instead. At the feel of his mouth on her skin, she closed her eyes, automatically tilting her head to give him access as his lips travelled in a slow sensual path to her ear. Warm puffs of breath lifted the fine hair at her nape, and she shivered as her limbs weakened in response.

“I think you’re far from frigid, Lucy. You just need someone to show you.” His whisper was a low growl. A hot lick to her earlobe followed the statement, sending already heightened senses into overdrive. Her eyes popped open, and a groan slipped from her lips.

The heat from his body beckoned her closer, to recognize and submit to her body’s needs. To straddle him and press her aching center to the impressive bulge in his lap. For a few precious seconds, she teetered on the edge, her body urging her brain to let go and surrender, to overcome the paralyzing fear that was her constant companion. Before she could act on the alien feeling, he moved away, leaving her skin cooling at the loss of his heat.

“Wha—” Dazed, she blinked back to full awareness and fought through the lethargy lingering in her veins. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to grimace as the action brushed erect nipples. God, they ached. Instinct told her they’d feel better if he’d cover them with his hands. His eyes darkened even more as if he could read her thoughts, and she glared at him to cover the reaction. “I didn’t peg you for a tease, Samuel Merrick. Why did you stop?”

“Don’t worry, brat, we’ve got all the time in the world. I just don’t want you to have any excuses or regrets. And I want to make certain you’re ready for this step. There’ll be no blaming whatever happens between us on alcohol.”

She snorted. “I wouldn’t do that.”

His face was the picture of skepticism. He didn’t speak, but then he didn’t need to, just sat there staring at her, one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed over that impressive chest. Her fingers itched to explore the intriguing dips and bulges that lay underneath his shirt. The years they’d been apart had only improved the man. She still struggled to compute that she might actually get to see the improvements in the flesh, to feel those muscles under her fingertips, and soon.

“Okay, I might,” she conceded. “You know, it’s not fair you know me so well.”

He chuffed out a laugh. “More like, lucky that I do.” In one smooth movement, he stood and held his hand out to her. “Come on. I’d better get you home. You need your sleep. We’ve got plans, starting tomorrow.”

Placing her hand in his, she let him pull her up, wariness entering her tone. “What kind of plans? Will I like them?”

A slow, wicked smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and she blushed as her imagination took flight. “Oh, yeah. I’m betting you’re going to love them.” Without further comment, he rested a firm hand on the small of her back and guided her out the door.

A new and alien tension hummed at a low frequency between them on the silent drive home. Not uncomfortable, it was nevertheless noticeable. Taking the opportunity while he concentrated on the road, Lucy snuck peeks at Sam’s profile and repressed a sigh. He was so beautiful.

Long fingers loosely gripped the steering wheel, his thumb stroking the leather. Square, clean nails gave no hint to the fact he spent most of his day outside working with earth and heavy machinery. The only clues to his profession were the calluses on his hands and the year-round tan he sported.

Captivated by the mesmerizing motion of his thumb rubbing over the wheel, her mind veered off, imagining it rubbing against her skin. What would the rough texture of his fingers feel like on her body? How would he touch her? Slow and gentle, or firm with barely-leashed control? Hot darts of arousal shot through her belly, ending in damp heat between her legs. God, who was she kidding? It didn’t matter how he touched her, just so long as he did.

She shifted uncomfortably and squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache that was slowly becoming unbearable. What had he done to her? Perhaps he was right to end the evening after all. It seemed the whiskey was having an effect. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she averted her face, hoping by the time they arrived home all traces of her uncharacteristic arousal would be gone.

“Told you.” His voice breaking into her thoughts made her whip her head around. The slow grin told her he’d noticed the restless movements of her body. “You’re not frigid at all.”

****

Sam wanted to punch something. The rage that had simmered from learning Lucy’s horror story had condensed into a thick soup in his belly until he’d seen her safely home, then the acrid taste had regurgitated, coating the whole of his mouth.

She might say it was ancient history and actually believe it, but her reactions told a very different story. She wasn’t over it. Not by a long shot. She should have had counselling to help her deal with the aftermath, but knowing her as well as he did, no way in hell would she have contemplated unburdening herself to a stranger. It had obviously been hard enough to unload to him as it was.

With great difficulty, he uncurled his fists, consciously ordering his fingers to loosen, and took a deep, steadying breath. That little bastard thought he’d gotten away with it. And why wouldn’t he? Three long years had gone by without repercussions, so as far as he was concerned, that chapter of his life was over. Little did he know the black moment of his life was yet to come, and Sam planned to make it as dark and as uncomfortable as he could.

For the next couple of hours, Sam scoured the internet, looking for any mention of the prick. But all he managed to unearth was the basic facts Lucy had already told him. His father was indeed a highly ranked policeman, but Google wasn’t able to delve any further, deepening his frustration. The family probably knew what a little bastard their son was, and with their connections, had managed to keep his name out of the archives.

Out of options, he opened up the search engine again to find someone who could help him get further, then picked up the phone.